The magical flying boat glided through the twilight sky, carrying Mordek, Gorvath, Vexara, Lirith, Sylphie, Garrick, Darius, Kael, and Mr. Alaric. The vibrant hum of magic surrounding the vessel finally stilled as they arrived at a small, bustling campsite where Mr. Alden was waiting.
The moment Mr. Alden spotted the boat descending, he strode eagerly towards it. His face lit up with recognition as he called out, "Alaric!"
"Mr. Alden," Mordek said warmly as he disembarked, shaking the man's hand firmly.
Vexara offered a curt nod, while Lirith clung to her side.
Mr. Alden's gaze sharpened as he noticed Lirith. His brow furrowed, and he asked with a hint of concern, "Did those elders really permit you to take Lirith out of their sight?"
Before anyone else could respond, Vexara stepped protectively in front of Lirith, her voice firm, almost bristling. "No. I took her. I want her to see the world outside her confined room at least once."
Mordek placed a calming hand on Vexara's shoulder and said gently, "Don't be rude, Vexara."
Mr. Alden chuckled softly, waving off the tension. "It's alright. A sister protecting another is a familiar sight." His tone softened even more as he smiled at Lirith, who peeked out from behind Vexara. "By the way, where is Sir Valmire?"
Mr. Alaric's face darkened slightly. He muttered, "Don't mention him."
Confused, Mr. Alden frowned, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in mood. His gaze then shifted to Kael and his companions, Sylphie, Darius, and Garrick.
"And where's that other idiot?" he asked with a teasing grin.
Kael, Darius, and Garrick shared sheepish smiles, while Sylphie's cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.
Kael scratched the back of his head and replied, grinning, "He went to hunt some magical beasts for dinner."
"Oh?" Mr. Alden said, raising a brow. Then a sudden realisation struck him like a bolt of lightning. His voice shot up an octave. "Wait—he didn't drag Sir Valmire into this, did he?"
Kael gave him a guilty, lopsided smile. "Possibly."
Mr. Alden dramatically clutched his chest. "My dinner? My precious dinner? I have to go there—right now!"
Mr. Alaric chuckled, dryly adding, "You're already too late."
Just then, a calm voice called out, "Where are you rushing off to, Alden?"
Mr. Alden turned around to see Ronan approaching, his body visibly tired but his spirit unwavering.
"Good evening, Sir," Ronan greeted.
"Did you get it?" Mr. Alden asked eagerly.
Ronan raised a thumbs-up, a small smirk on his lips. "We got it."
Mr. Alden, overcome with sadness, grabbed Ronan by the shoulders and began shaking him wildly. "How could you do this to me?"
Mid-shake, Mr. Alden paused, finally feeling that Ronan's soul was damaged. His expression sobered instantly. "Wait... You're hurt. What happened?"
Ronan tried to brush it off. "I'm fine now. The injuries aren't serious."
"Not serious?" Mr. Alden growled, his concern overflowing into anger. "Do you have any idea how rare and precious soul recovery materials are? Soul injuries aren't like broken bones!"
Ronan could only bow his head, unable to meet Mr. Alden's furious, worried gaze.
"Hey!" Mr. Alden barked. "Look at me when I'm talking to you! How many times must I remind you to be careful? I'm at my limit with your recklessness. If you ever pull a stunt like this again, I swear I won't teach you swordsmanship anymore."
From the side, Mordek watched, thinking quietly, "Reckless? Ronan? If anything, he's the most calculated one among us during a fight."
Mr. Alaric interjected, trying to ease the tension. "Alright, alright. Ronan fought with a Hollowed Spirit. He got injured, but he's fine now. Ronan, go get some rest."
Sir Valmire appeared behind them, giving a firm nod. "We leave for the academy tonight. Mordek, Alden, we need to discuss something."
He turned to Ronan and the others. "Kids, go get some rest."
As the adults began talking in low, serious tones, Ronan sighed and nudged Darius. "Help me, man," he whispered.
Together, they headed into the kitchen area, rolling up their sleeves. Ronan started cutting up the Rock Eagle meat while Darius rinsed and prepared the pieces. Their laughter and easy banter soon filled the space. Kael and Garrick quickly joined them, turning the kitchen into a lively, noisy place.
Outside, Gorvath clenched his fists at his sides, bitterness boiling under his calm exterior. "Ronan's just a commoner. Why are they acting like he's some kind of hero? We fought too—and got less injured. Where's our recognition?"
Inside, Vexara and Lirith approached Sylphie, who smiled warmly at them. "I'm Sylphie."
"I'm Vexara, and this little one is Lirith."
Lirith looked up at Sylphie with wide eyes and said in her soft voice, "Ronan. Kitchen. Help."
Sylphie chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Lirith's hair. "Alright, let's go see what they're up to."
When they entered the kitchen, they found Ronan cutting unwashed meat while Darius diligently rinsed it. Garrick expertly sliced the cleaned pieces while Kael, rather suspiciously, was lounging in a chair, pretending to supervise.
Sylphie spotted an apron hanging by the door, slipped it on, and crossed her arms as she levelled a cold stare at Kael.
"Kael," she said sweetly—dangerously sweet. "You don't seem very busy."
Kael jolted upright. "N-No! I'm helping!"
Sylphie arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Helping? By sitting?"
Kael gave an awkward chuckle and glanced at Ronan for backup. "I was helping, right, Ronan?"
Ronan, not wanting to get involved, quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah, he was helping."
Sylphie huffed, clearly not convinced. She shot Ronan a glare—the kind that brooked no arguments. "Don't talk to me," she snapped at him, pulling out a basket of vegetables.
She shoved them into Kael's hands. "Wash these. Now."
Kael groaned under his breath but scurried to obey, while Darius and Garrick struggled not to laugh. Ronan only smiled sheepishly, feeling the warmth of the moment despite the day's hardships.
For a little while, amid the chopping of meat, the washing of vegetables, and the teasing laughter, the camp felt less like a battleground and more like a family.