I felt the day’s exhaustion settle into my bones as Maya and I made our way back to the town. Our bodies were sore from the battles, and though we’d done our best to bind our wounds, the slow regeneration of our health didn’t do much for the aches.

  The town was quiet, bathed in the soft, flickering glow of lanterns as we approached. As we neared the town center, I spotted Mayor Thomas just locking his office door apparently headed home for the evening. His raised eyebrow told me he was surprised we were back so soon.

  “Back already?” he asked.

  Maya opened her knapsack to show him the grisly trophies. “We dealt with the beasts.”

  His expression softened as he looked at the severed tails, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over his face. “Well done,” he said, nodding in approval. “I’ll hear your story in the morning and also have your payment ready. For now, you’ve earned some rest.”

  Grateful, Maya and I made our way to the tavern. The familiar creak of the door welcomed us in, and the comforting smells of roasting meat and freshly baked bread filled the air. The low murmur of conversations and the crackling hearth created a sanctuary, far from the dangers we’d just faced.

  After cleaning up, we sat near the fire. As the warmth seeped into my tired muscles, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. The food arrived—simple, but satisfying—and as we dug in, I couldn’t help but glance around the room. Something caught my eye: a woman sitting at a nearby table, her blond curls catching the light of the fire. She was laughing softly with the man beside her. Something about them felt familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  I quickly looked away, embarrassed to have been caught staring, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw her wink before turning back to her companion. I shifted uncomfortably, focusing on the food as it arrived.

  Maya caught my glance and smirked. “Smooth,” she teased.

  “Didn’t mean to stare,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks flush.

  We ate in a comfortable silence, the warmth of the meal and the quiet relief of the moment helping us unwind. But just as we were finishing, the woman and her companion stood up and approached our table. I tensed, unsure of what to expect, but the woman’s easy smile eased my nerves a little.

  “Mind if we join you?” she asked, her voice casual.

  I glanced at Maya. She gave a small nod, and I gestured to the empty seats. “Sure.”

  “I’m Olivia, and this is Caleb,” she introduced herself, then glanced at us with a raised eyebrow. “Like us, you two don’t exactly look like locals.”

  I glanced at the clothes that Olivia and Caleb were wearing, and Maya and I shared a quick glance before I replied, “You could say that. I’m Ethan, and this is Maya. We’re just passing through.”

  Olivia studied us for a moment, taking in our clothing. I felt a little self-conscious in my plain tunic. “Interesting,” she said thoughtfully. “Where are you two from? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  Maya hesitated for a second, then gave a half-smile. “We’re not really sure how to answer that.” Her voice was guarded. “It’s… complicated.”

  Olivia nodded, tilting her head. “Fair enough. Caleb and I aren’t sure where to begin either. Let’s just say our journey here has been… unusual.”

  Caleb, who’d been mostly quiet up until then, spoke in a calm, measured tone. “I woke up in the woods a few days ago, no memory of how I got there or why. After a day of walking, I ran into Olivia.”

  “My story is similar,” Olivia added. “I woke up about a day’s walk from here, with no memory of where I came from or where I was going. I had just a small knapsack with a few survival items.”

  Maya leaned in slightly, her voice lowering. “You don’t remember anything? Not even what you were doing before?”

  Olivia’s smile faded, and she nodded gravely. “Nothing. It’s like… everything before two days ago is just gone. Caleb and I found each other, but that’s the only thing that makes sense so far.”

  I looked at Maya, and a flicker of recognition passed between us. “That’s exactly what happened to us,” I said, my voice cautious. “We woke up in the forest too, a few days ago. No memory of how we got there.”

  Maya’s eyes narrowed slightly as she processed this. I could see the concern in her face. It was the same feeling I had—the same nagging confusion.

  I nodded slowly, my brow furrowing as the conversation began to turn toward more unsettling ideas. “Same here,” I said. “Maya and I found each other pretty quickly, but the rest…” I trailed off.

  Caleb crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. “And the clothes,” he said, his eyes flicking between us. “They don’t exactly scream local. They’re… practical, almost like they were meant for traveling. But there’s nothing personal about them.”

  “You know,” Olivia spoke softly, breaking the silence, “there’s something else. You both look… familiar. Like I’ve seen you before, but I can’t figure out where.”

  Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. My eyes widened, my thoughts swirling. “I was just thinking the same thing,” I said, my voice quieter than usual. “It’s like there’s a connection, but it’s just out of reach.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. At least, for now, we had each other. But something about this felt wrong, and the more I thought about it, the harder it became to shake off the feeling that we were being led somewhere, like pieces in someone else’s game.

  We all fell into another contemplative silence, but it didn’t last long. A voice from a nearby table broke through my thoughts.

  “… the caravan’s been attacked twice already,” a man was saying, his voice urgent. “Wild beasts and bandits. The owner’s desperate for guards—he’s paying good money.”

  Another voice responded, skeptical. “Wouldn’t catch me risking my neck on that road. But if the pay’s right, there’ll be some takers.”

  Olivia glanced at me, then at Maya and Caleb. “A caravan heading to the capital,” she said, a thoughtful tone to her voice. “It could be a way out of this town—and maybe we’ll learn more along the way.”

  Caleb leaned in slightly, his expression calm but deliberate. “If we’re all looking for answers, heading toward the capital might be our best bet. And if they’re paying, even better.”

  I leaned back in my chair, considering the possibilities. “Could be dangerous, though.”

  “Everything’s dangerous here,” Maya said with a smirk, clearly not fazed. “But if the pay is good, and we get to head toward the capital, it might be worth the risk.”

  As we sat there, the conversation shifted to something that had been lingering in my mind ever since we arrived here: the strange system that seemed to govern this world. Olivia leaned back in her chair, swirling her ale thoughtfully.

  "So," she began, tapping her fingers on the table, "has anyone else noticed... the system? The one that tracks our stats and skills? Like... some kind of interface?"

  I exchanged a glance with Maya before nodding. “Yeah. I’ve seen it. It appeared after I made a spear out of a sapling. The stats popped up, and I’ve noticed that I gain experience after fights.”

  Maya’s voice came in next, low but clear. “Same here. I’ve seen my stats, too. Agility, strength, health—all tracked. I’ve even gained a few skills, like hunting and stealth. It’s odd, but... somehow it feels natural. Like I’ve always known how it works, even though I can’t remember where that knowledge comes from.”

  Caleb nodded, sipping his ale as he looked at the two of us with a calm expression. “It’s the same for me. After fights with a snake and some dog-like creatures, I got notifications about gaining skills and leveling up. But one thing that bothers me is I don’t have a class.”

  Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I noticed that too. No class. What does that even mean? Is it something we’re supposed to unlock, or are we just stuck in some… beginner stage?”

  I crossed my arms, deep in thought. “I’ve been wondering that too. It’s like we’re blank slates, just collecting experience and skills without a clear path forward.”

  Maya frowned, her gaze distant as she considered it. “Maybe it’s something we have to earn? Like, after enough experience, we unlock a class? Or maybe we have to do something specific to get one.”

  “That’s possible,” Caleb said, his voice steady. “But if this world has mechanics like some type of game, there must be a progression system in place. The fact that we’re all at the same level—no class, basic skills—suggests we haven’t reached the point where we can specialize.”

  Olivia spoke, and I couldn’t help but nod along. “Maybe the class system is tied to something we haven’t encountered yet. Like a trial or a test we have to pass. Or maybe we need to find a mentor, someone who can show us the way.”

  Maya’s eyes sharpened as she processed the thought. “A mentor… that could make sense. Someone who already knows how this world works, who can guide us into our classes.”

  I leaned back in my chair, contemplating. “Maybe. But there’s also the possibility that we’re supposed to figure it out ourselves. This place seems designed to push us—mentally, physically. Maybe unlocking our class is part of some test.”

  Caleb’s calm voice broke through the silence, cutting to the heart of the matter. “Either way, we need to pay attention to the skills we’re gaining and how we’re leveling up. If we don’t know when we’ll unlock a class, we need to be prepared for anything. The more we know about the mechanics of this world, the better off we’ll be.”

  I nodded in agreement, a surge of determination rising within me. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe the caravan we heard about will lead us somewhere with more information. And in the meantime, we keep leveling up and growing stronger.”

  Maya cracked a small smile. “Looks like we’re in this together, then. Let’s hope the journey to the capital brings more than just gold.”

  The mood shifted a little, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all. But as the night deepened, I pulled myself together and approached the bar. The tavern was quieter now, most of the patrons having retired for the night. I caught the eye of the tavern owner as he wiped down the counter, clearing my throat before I spoke.

  “Excuse me,” I began, leaning slightly against the bar, “I heard there’s a caravan leaving for the capital in the morning. Do you know where we might find the caravan owner? We were thinking about offering our services as guards.”

  The tavern owner, an older man with a thick, graying beard, raised an eyebrow as he studied me. “Ah, you’ve heard about Doran’s caravan, eh? Aye, they’re leaving at first light, but I’ll warn you now—it’s not the safest road. Been some trouble with bandits lately. Couple of caravans didn’t make it through. Doran’s been looking for extra hands to keep watch, but you best know what you’re getting into.”

  I nodded, taking the man’s words seriously. “We’ve faced some dangers already, and we can handle ourselves.”

  He paused for a moment, studying me with a steady gaze, before giving a nod of approval. “Aye, I’ve seen the four of you. You look capable enough. Doran will be glad to have you, I’m sure. You can find him down at the south end of town, where the wagons are parked. He’ll likely be doing the final rounds of packing tonight.”

  “Thanks,” I replied.

  The tavern owner leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. “I’ll send word to Doran for you, let him know you’re asking about guard work. But listen, lad—be careful out there. The road to the capital’s no joke these days. You and your friends watch each other’s backs.”

  I gave him a grateful smile and turned to rejoin the others.

  The next morning, we made our way to the south end of town, where the caravan was preparing for departure. As we neared the area, the sounds of hooves, creaking wagon wheels, and the bustle of workers filled the air. Twenty wagons were lined up, stacked high with crates and barrels, and the smell of livestock and hay lingered in the cool morning air.

  At the head of the caravan stood Doran, the caravan owner. A stout man with a weathered face and a thick leather coat, he looked like someone who had spent years on the road. He watched us approach with sharp eyes and raised a hand in greeting as we drew near.

  “You must be the ones Barlen mentioned,” Doran said, his voice gruff but welcoming. “Looking for guard work, eh?”

  I stepped forward, nodding. “That’s right.”

  Doran scratched his chin thoughtfully, sizing us up. “Well, we’re always in need of extra hands. We’re short-handed with only three guards, and another four would be safer. I’m paying five silver coins a day per guard, with a bonus if we reach the capital without any losses. It’ll take about a week to get there.”

  He waved over a tall man who was giving orders to some workers nearby. “This here is Garret, my senior guard. He’ll be in charge of you. You follow his lead.”

  Garret looked us over with a stern expression, his eyes sharp and calculating. “You lot look like you’re heading out on a stroll, not guarding a caravan,” he said, frowning as he took in our gear—basic weapons, no armor, and no bedrolls. “No decent weapons, no armor, and you don’t even have bedrolls for the nights ahead.”

  He paused for a moment, taking a long look at us. Then, to my surprise, his frown softened slightly. “But I’ve seen worse start with less and prove their worth. You’ve got the look of folks who can handle yourselves—maybe not polished, but determined.” He motioned toward the wagons. “Besides, we’re short on guards, and a willing blade is better than none. Gear can be fixed, but guts and grit? That’s harder to come by.”

  He led us to one of the wagons at the back of the caravan and opened it up to reveal a small cache of worn but functional gear. “Take what you need,” Garret said, his arms crossed. “It’s not much, but it’ll have to do.”

  I grabbed a leather vest and a short sword, pairing them with the spear I already had. The vest had some dark splatter marks on one side—it looked like dried blood. I didn’t mind; it was functional, and at this point, that was all that mattered. Maya found a pair of throwing knives and leather bracers, always quick to equip herself for close combat. Olivia selected a padded tunic and a short sword, practical but effective. Caleb, always prepared for a longer-range fight, picked a sturdy bow and a quiver of arrows. We each grabbed a bedroll, a welcome addition for the journey ahead. I couldn’t help but hope my bedroll wasn’t full of fleas—comfort seemed like a luxury we could barely afford.

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  Garret gave us a once-over, his gaze scrutinizing each of us. “Good enough,” he said, sounding like he was sizing us up one last time. “Now, I’ve got some horses for you as well. You know how to ride?”

  Maya nodded confidently. “I can handle a horse.”

  The rest of us exchanged uncertain glances, but I spoke up. “I’ve ridden before,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I’ll manage.”

  “Same here,” Olivia added with a light chuckle. “It’s been a while, but I think I’ll be fine.”

  Garret just shrugged. “Good enough. The wagons move slow, so if we run into trouble, the horses will give you an edge. Don’t fall behind. We’ll be leaving town within the hour so wrap up any business.”

  Maya and I exchanged a quick glance before turning to the others. "We’ll be right back," I said. "We need to meet with the Mayor for our reward."

  With that, we made our way down the street to the town hall. We entered through the front door, passing through the quiet waiting room, where I could see the Mayor’s office just beyond, its door ajar. Inside, Mayor Thomas sat behind a cluttered desk, papers scattered haphazardly, his attention focused on the task at hand. He looked up as we stepped inside, offering a welcoming smile.

  "Ethan, Maya," he greeted, waving us over. "Take a seat. I’ve been looking forward to your report."

  We moved to the chairs opposite his desk. For a brief moment, there was silence between us before the Mayor leaned forward, anticipation in his gaze. Maya didn’t hesitate—she began recounting everything: the beasts, the battle, and the aftermath. I filled in the gaps, mentioning the strategies we had employed and how the fight had unfolded.

  When Maya finished, the Mayor leaned back, folding his hands in thought. His eyes remained focused on us, as if carefully weighing every word we had said. After a long pause, he spoke.

  "You’ve done a great service to this town. It’s rare to come across individuals with the skill and determination you’ve shown."

  Maya shifted in her seat, her brow furrowed slightly as she waited for the Mayor’s next words. I felt a similar tension rising in my chest, knowing this moment would define the next step of our journey.

  "I’ve been authorized to offer you a reward for your efforts," Mayor Thomas continued. "But rather than just handing you a coin pouch, I’d like to offer you something more... useful. What you’ve accomplished shows me you’re capable of more than just a simple job in town."

  He leaned forward, opening a drawer in his desk. From it, he retrieved a small, weathered chest. The hinges creaked slightly as he opened it, revealing a collection of items. He slid them toward us one by one, explaining each.

  "This pouch," he began, "is enchanted. It’s a bit of a family heirloom, and it will hold more than it appears. Beyond that, it will protect your gear from the elements—keep your supplies safe when the weather turns."

  Next, he gestured to the map in the chest. "This map shows safe routes through the region. It’s been updated recently, but there are still dangerous areas marked. Use it wisely."

  Finally, he pointed to a small vial containing a faintly glowing liquid. "This is a healing elixir. A few drops are all you need, and it will help you recover more quickly from wounds. I don’t give it out lightly, but I believe it’s necessary for those facing the kind of dangers you’re likely to encounter."

  Maya and I exchanged a glance, the practical value of these items sinking in.

  The Mayor wasn’t finished. "There’s one more thing," he said, his tone becoming more serious. "I know you’re heading out with the caravan and making your way toward the capital." He reached into his desk and pulled out two small parchments, neatly scribed with formal text. "I’ve written personal recommendations for you both. It should help if you need assistance or introductions along the way."

  "Thank you," we said in unison. Maya gestured for me to take the pouch, and I carefully placed the map, vial, and the parchments inside.

  Mayor Thomas gave us a final nod, his smile warm. "Good luck out there. Stay sharp. And don’t forget—the town’s doors are always open to you."

  We left the town hall, the door closing softly behind us. Back at the caravan, we mounted our horses, adjusting to the feel of the saddles. The morning air was crisp, and the horses shifted beneath us, eager to start the journey. Garret gave us a few more instructions as we readied ourselves.

  "We’ll rotate positions throughout the day," Garret said, his voice gruff but clear. "Keeps you fresh, keeps you alert."

  He pointed at me. “You’ll ride up front with me for the first shift, keeping an eye on the road ahead.” He then pointed at Maya. “You take the rear for now—make sure nothing’s trailing us.” He glanced at Olivia. “You’ll cover the left flank, stay close to the wagons but be ready to scout ahead if needed.” Finally, he addressed Caleb. “You take the right flank. Keep pace with the caravan, but always be ready for trouble.”

  The day was quiet. The road stretched out before us, winding through peaceful meadows and lightly forested areas. The sound of the horses' hooves on the dirt road, the creaking of the wagon wheels, and the occasional command from Garret to keep alert were the only noises that broke the silence.

  About an hour into the ride, I noticed a faint glow in the corner of my vision. I blinked in surprise as the notification appeared.

  [New Skill Acquired: Riding]

  I didn’t expect something as basic as riding a horse to trigger a notification, but the words lingered in my sight for a moment before disappearing. “Riding, huh?” I muttered to myself. This place was keeping track of everything—every movement, every new skill learned. It was like we were being graded on everything we did.

  I glanced back at Maya, Olivia, and Caleb. I wondered if they were experiencing similar moments of skill acquisition.

  The first day passed without incident, the road remaining calm, and the journey mostly uneventful. By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, Doran signaled the caravan to pull into a small clearing by the side of the road. It was a familiar campsite, a spot large enough for the wagons to form a loose circle around a central fire pit. The mood shifted from the quiet intensity of the journey to a more relaxed atmosphere.

  The smell of roasting meat filled the air as the fire crackled to life. Small groups of travelers gathered around, sharing stories, laughing quietly.

  Garret called us together to assign the night’s shifts. There were seven guards in total: the four of us, Garrett, and two others, Jory and Bren.

  “Alright,” Garret said, his voice commanding attention. “We’ll split the night into three shifts, three hours each. Olivia and Caleb, you’ll take the first watch. Ethan, Maya, and I will cover the middle shift—that’s when we’re most likely to run into trouble. Jory and Bren, you’ll handle the final watch.”

  Olivia and Caleb exchanged glances before nodding and preparing for their shift. Garret turned to Maya and me, his gaze steady. “Stay sharp during our shift. That’s when things tend to happen.”

  Olivia raised an eyebrow. “And how are we supposed to know when it’s time to switch?” she asked, folding her arms.

  Garret pulled an hourglass from his belt pouch and held it up. “Simple. You turn this every hour. When the sand runs out, you give it a flip. When you’ve turned it three times, it’s time to switch shifts. The hourglass will keep things running smoothly.”

  I nodded, understanding the system. Garret handed the hourglass to Olivia, and she tucked it into her pouch with a small nod.

  The camp settled into a familiar rhythm as night fell. Tents were pitched, bedrolls unfurled, and the fire crackled warmly at the center of the clearing.

  Olivia and Caleb, armed and alert, took up their posts, walking slowly around the perimeter of the camp. Their eyes remained sharp, scanning the trees and the road for any sign of danger. The dim glow of the campfire flickered in the distance, offering some light, while the moonlight illuminated the path ahead. The soft crunch of their boots on the grass was barely audible over the crackling of the fire.

  Meanwhile, Maya and I lay down in our bedrolls, both of us hoping to get some sleep before our shift started. The next thing I knew, a boot was tapping against my side. I looked up to see a sleepy smile on Olivia’s face. "Your turn," she whispered, handing me the hourglass that had been keeping track of the time.

  I groaned softly as I stretched, my muscles aching from the day’s ride, but I forced myself to my feet. Maya rubbed her eyes beside me, rising to join me as I stood.

  "Let’s get this over with," Maya muttered, fastening her cloak as she stood.

  We met Garret, who had already begun his patrol around the camp. We walked the perimeter, checking each wagon and scanning the treeline. Every now and then, Garret would offer quiet instructions or remind us to stay vigilant. Maya and I exchanged few words, our focus intense. The surrounding forest was unnervingly silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves carried by the wind.

  Our shift passed uneventfully, the night cold but still. After three hours, we woke Bren and Jory for the final watch. Maya and I climbed back into our bedrolls, exhaustion quickly pulling us into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Late in the afternoon of the second day, something felt off. The usual birdsong was absent, and the forest had become eerily quiet. Olivia, riding near the front, was the first to spot it—a group of men moving between the trees, their forms barely visible in the shadows. She signaled to the others, and the caravan immediately fell into formation, weapons drawn.

  “We’ve got company,” Olivia muttered under her breath, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

  Doran cursed under his breath and urged his wagon closer to the rest of the caravan. “Bandits! Everyone get ready!”

  The bandits moved quickly, charging from the trees in a coordinated rush. There looked to be about a dozen of them, all shouting and brandishing weapons as they descended on the caravan. Chaos erupted as the wagons screeched to a halt, the creaking of wheels and frantic shouts filling the air. The guards sprang into action, grabbing their weapons and positioning themselves to defend the caravan, their faces set in grim determination.

  I gripped my spear tightly, adrenaline coursing through me as I faced the oncoming attackers. I blocked an incoming strike, spun, and drove my spear into one of the bandits. He fell with a grunt, but there was no time to celebrate. Another bandit was already closing in.

  Maya leapt off her horse, her knives flashing in the fading light as she darted between the bandits. Her speed was a deadly advantage, allowing her to outmaneuver her opponents and strike them down before they had a chance to react. Caleb fought from horseback, releasing arrows with precision, his arrows finding their targets with deadly accuracy. Olivia’s sword flashed as she blocked attacks and countered with deadly strikes of her own.

  Despite our best efforts, the bandits were relentless. I found myself locked in combat with a particularly large brute. His sword crashed against mine with each strike, and we traded blows. The clash of metal echoed through the camp, but the brute’s raw strength slowly pushed me back.

  Then, with a deadly shift, his sword slipped past my defenses, and I felt a sharp pain explode in my ribs. I staggered back, gasping for breath. I raised my spear, but before I could react, the brute lunged forward, driving his sword deep into my chest.

  I collapsed to the ground, my life force slipping away. I remembered the healing potion in my pouch, but that was strapped to the horse.

  The battle raged on without me. Maya, Olivia, Caleb, and the other guards fought desperately, forcing the remaining bandits back into the trees. Eventually, the attackers retreated, their numbers too few to continue the fight and their dead and dying scattered on the ground.

  As the dust settled, Maya knelt beside me, her hands shaking as she touched my blood-soaked chest. I felt my vision and hearing fading, and then my mind drifted to oblivion.

  May’s breath hitched, and she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, “He’s gone.”

  Olivia and Caleb stood nearby, their expressions grim. In that moment, the harsh reality of our situation was clear—survival was a brutal and unforgiving thing. Maya lingered for a moment, her fingers brushing my skin one last time, before standing up and joining the others. The fight was over, but the pain of loss would stay with them.

  Doran approached, his face pale as he looked down at Ethan’s lifeless body. "I’ll... I’ll have his body placed in the back of one of the wagons," he said quietly. "We’ll give him a proper burial in a couple of hours when we stop for the night."

  The silence that followed was thick with grief. Several of the guards bore light injuries from the skirmish, but nothing too severe. Caleb had a gash along his arm, hastily bandaged after the fight, while Olivia nursed a bruised shoulder where one of the bandits had landed a glancing blow. Garret himself had a cut across his cheek, the result of a close call with a bandit’s blade.

  Maya winced as she tied a strip of cloth around her leg, where a bandit’s dagger had grazed her thigh. Caleb, his brow slick with sweat from both exhaustion and pain, tightened the makeshift bandage on his arm, nodding to Maya in silent solidarity.

  "Could have been worse," Garret muttered, pressing a cloth to his bleeding cheek. He glanced at the others, checking their wounds with a quick, practiced eye. "Patch yourselves up best you can. We need to stay sharp."

  Once their injuries were tended to, they carefully placed Ethan's limp form in the back of one of the wagons and covered him with a blanket. Maya, Olivia, and Caleb stood in stunned, exhausted silence, trying to process what had just happened.

  Six bandits lay dead on the ground, their bodies sprawled across the dirt road in the aftermath of the brutal fight. Blood stained the earth where the skirmish had taken place.

  “We should check the bandits for anything of value,” Garret said gruffly, snapping the others out of their daze. "No sense leaving anything useful behind."

  Nodding in agreement, they moved swiftly, searching the bodies of the fallen bandits. They found little—some scattered coins, a few crude knives, and dented swords that had seen too many fights. The weapons were far from pristine, but they could be useful, so they tossed the bandits' weapons into the back of one of the carts to be dealt with later.

  Once they had finished gathering what they could, Garret gave them a nod. "Let’s get rid of the bodies. We don’t need them stinking up the road."

  Together, they dragged the bandits' bodies about a hundred feet into the forest, grunting with the effort. The grim task was done in silence, each person lost in their thoughts. They left the bodies in a haphazard pile for the forest beasts to find—a gruesome offering to the wild.

  As they made their way back to the caravan, Caleb looked over his shoulder, his voice quiet. “Forest creatures will take care of them soon enough.”

  “Good riddance,” Olivia muttered, her tone hard as she wiped the blood from her hands.

  The mood in the caravan was somber as it continued onward, the day’s victory overshadowed by the loss of one of their own.

  But then, something miraculous happened.

  Maya, riding near the wagon, saw movement beneath the blanket. At first, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. But then she saw it again—the blanket shifting, and a hand reaching up from underneath. Then, a head appeared over the wagon side—Ethan’s head!

  She rushed over, dagger in hand, unsure if Ethan was alive or somehow... undead. She cried out in shock.

  Ethan sat up, groaning in pain as he clutched his chest. His skin was pale, and his clothes were stained with dried blood, but he was alive.

  Maya stumbled backward in shock. “Ethan…?”

  He looked at her, his expression dazed. “What… what happened?”

  By this time, Olivia and Caleb had run over, their faces filled with disbelief. Doran and Garret, too, came rushing toward the scene, their eyes wide with astonishment.

  “You… you were dead,” Maya stammered, her voice trembling. “I saw you. We all did.”

  I looked down at the spot where the bandit’s sword had pierced me, expecting to see the gaping wound, but instead, my fingers brushed over a faint scar. Somehow, I was alive again, my health fully restored. The realization hit me, but it didn’t make sense.

  Doran stood frozen for a moment, staring at me with wide eyes before he finally spoke. “You… you must be a traveler.”

  “A traveler?” I blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of his words.

  He nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving me. “I’ve heard stories. Travelers... they come back from the dead. I thought they were just myths, but... here you are.”

  The others were staring at me now, their shock mirroring my own confusion. Whatever had just happened, it seemed like I had crossed a boundary I didn’t even know existed—life and death were no longer as simple as they once seemed.

  “We need to figure out what this means,” Caleb said, his voice measured but tense. “If he can come back... does that mean that we too can come back from the dead?”

  I leaned back against the wagon, my body still weak from the ordeal, my mind racing to process everything. The faint scar on my chest was a reminder of what had happened, but something about it felt wrong. Like something had been taken, something I couldn’t quite understand. “I don’t know,” I said finally, my voice hoarse from both the trauma and the weight of the situation. “But it feels... different. Like something’s missing.”

  Doran, his arms crossed, broke the silence. “You should stay in the wagon for the next few hours until we stop for the night,” he said gruffly. “Whatever happened to you, you’re not in any shape to be fighting again anytime soon.”

  I nodded, grateful for the time to recover. “Thanks, Doran. I’ll take it easy.”

  As the group resumed their tasks, Caleb stayed by the wagon, his mind clearly working through the implications of everything that had just occurred. “We should start tracking what happens when one of us dies,” he suggested, his tone analytical. “If it’s anything like the binding points, there might be rules or conditions we can figure out.”

  I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “You’re probably right. Let me see if anything’s changed.”

  The familiar glowing interface appeared in front of me, and I focused on my stats. My health was back to full, but the moment I looked at my experience bar, frustration bubbled up inside me.

  “Damn,” I muttered, my heart sinking. “My experience is gone. All of it.”

  Maya leaned in closer, her voice low and incredulous. “All of it? Like, you’re back to where you started?”

  “Not exactly,” I replied, scrolling through the stats. “My skills are still here, but my experience bar is empty. It’s like I didn’t gain anything toward leveling up.”

  Caleb frowned, his eyes narrowing as he processed this. “So dying doesn’t erase what you’ve learned, but it sets back your progression. That’s... manageable, I guess, but it’s a serious penalty.”

  Olivia joined the group, her brow furrowed as she considered the implications. “It’s better than permanent death, but if this happens too often, we’ll fall behind. We can’t afford that.”

  I closed the interface with a sigh, my frustration simmering just below the surface. “It’s not just the penalty... it’s the risk. What if it doesn’t always work like this? What if there are limits? What if I come back but... it doesn’t work the same way next time?”

  Doran, who’d been overhearing, gave a short, dry laugh. “You’re asking questions you might not want the answers to, lad. This world’s full of mysteries, and not all of them are friendly.”

  Maya crossed her arms, her voice sharp. “We don’t have a choice but to figure it out. We need to know what we’re up against.”

  Caleb, ever calm, offered a steadying presence. “We’ll take it one step at a time. For now, let’s focus on getting to the capital. Once we’re there, we can start searching for answers.”

  I nodded, leaning back into the corner of the wagon. “Yeah. Let’s just make sure no one else has to test this theory again anytime soon.”

  The caravan rumbled onward, the steady pace almost soothing in its rhythm. I pulled off the blood-soaked shirt, the dark stains stark against the worn fabric—a grim reminder of the battle I had barely made it through. I grabbed my water flask and started to scrub at the dried blood, pouring water onto the fabric with persistent effort. The crimson streaks soaked into the dirt, but no matter how hard I worked at it, the stains wouldn’t completely disappear.

  I paused, staring at the marks that refused to fade. Death, though brief for me, seemed to leave its imprint in ways that no amount of scrubbing could erase.