Aldric's breath hitched.
"…Staboyonaz."
The name slipped from his lips like a curse.
He stared at the thin rod embedded in the soil, his jaw tightening.
Nothing happened.
No reaction.
No pulse.
Not even the faintest ripple.
His eyes darkened.
"I… was deceived."
His fingers slowly tightened around the rod.
"That bastard…"
His voice dropped, low and cold.
"That black market rat dared to sell me a fake?"
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
"Hmph."
Aldric tore the rod from the earth and crushed it in his hand until a faint crack echoed.
"So this isn't a Stone of Staboyonaz."
His gaze sharpened.
"I should have known."
The merchant's face flashed through his mind—
that confident smile,
that smooth voice,
those words that sounded far too perfect.
Genuine.
A fragment of the Stone of Staboyonaz, straight from the source.
Aldric closed his eyes.
"…Careless."
He let out a slow breath.
"I should never have trusted the black market in the first place."
