After escaping the Shrine of the Descending Mist, I used my [Stealth Arts] to slip through the forest and sneak back into the Steel Fang's camp. The night air was heavy with moisture, and the wind blowing through the trees felt like a cold, damp shroud against my skin.

The A-rank guild was living up to its reputation, systematically suppressing the monster stampede.

The battlefield was a cacophony of iron and blood. The ground had been thoroughly trampled, and the dark, shadowy forms of carcasses lay piled atop one another.

As I neared the front line, Sigurd, the guildmaster, glanced back at me. "It's almost over," he said, his voice level.

As if on cue, Balan—who was leading from the front—swung his longsword in a wide horizontal arc. Invisible blades tore through the darkness, decapitating the remaining monsters. A dozen heads danced through the air, spraying blood; their bodies lurched forward a few more steps before collapsing like puppets with their strings cut.

Suddenly, silence descended.

The members of Steel Fang began to cautiously scout the perimeter.

There was no longer any sign of monsters emerging from the woods. Despite the quiet, no one lowered their weapons; they remained vigilant, the air thick with tension.

Balan stepped back from the front line and struck up a conversation with Sigurd. I moved in to join them.

"Whoa, Walt! You're safe?"

Balan’s skin was slick with sweat, yet he still made a point to check on me. To have that kind of composure after hours of non-stop fighting... he was quite the man.

"I was huddled in the back of the tent, shaking like a leaf," I replied. "I only crawled out once things got quiet."

"Hahaha! Come on, Walt, you're not that kind of guy."

"I don't know about that. Anyone would flinch when faced with a stampede. I'm not exactly a combat class, you know?"

"Well, I guess that’s fair."

The rest of the Steel Fang members gathered around Balan and Sigurd as they finished their patrols. Several of them were wounded.

"Balan, use these for the group."

I swung my backpack around and pulled out a handful of my handmade potions, handing them over.

"That’s a huge help! Listen up, everyone! These are High-grade Potions from a Master Herbalist! They’ll stick an arm back on even if it’s been ripped off!"

Balan began roughly dousing his injured comrades with the liquid. The potion glowed with a faint light the moment it touched their skin, knitting flesh together instantly. Cheers erupted from the guild members.

"Whoa! The wound's already closed!"

"This stuff works so well it's almost scary!"

"He really is a Master Herbalist!"

Hearing their praise was a bit embarrassing. As I stood there scratching my head, Sigurd narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"It's late," he commanded. "We'll investigate the cause of the stampede tomorrow."

At his word, the members of Steel Fang sprang into action. They posted two lookouts and the rest retreated to their tents.

"You should get some sleep too, Walt. The herb gathering can wait until morning, right?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

At Balan's urging, I turned in for the night—though my thoughts kept drifting back to the Imperial Soldier I’d left bound and gagged back at the Shrine of the Descending Mist...

The next morning, I accompanied Steel Fang into the forest to begin my herb gathering. Sigurd and his men moved deeper into the woods with caution, searching for the cause of the stampede and any belongings left behind by the missing people.

Perhaps it was because I had retrieved the [Fragment of the Evil God], but the thick fog from the day before had vanished entirely. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, granting us clear visibility.

"Tch... This is grim."

Balan had discovered the body of a woman. Her clothes were in tatters, her limbs bent at unnatural angles, and her body bore the marks of a brutal assault. She had likely been caught by the monsters near the highway and dragged into the woods to be discarded.

The stillness of the forest only served to heighten the tragedy of the scene.

"Over here, too..."

Grimaces darkened the faces of the other members as they discovered more human remains.

"Recover as many personal effects as you can," Sigurd instructed. "We’re bringing them back to their families."

While the guild members focused on the grim task of collecting mementos, I continued to gather herbs under the protection of one of their men.

By the time the sun reached its zenith, it was noon.

As we sat down for a quick, simple meal, Balan approached me.

"We're going to push further into the forest. Walt, you should head back to the camp. Feel free to return to the Territorial Capital from there."

"I’ve gathered more than enough herbs," I agreed. "I think I'll head back. I'm still worried about Lina's condition."

"Please. Look after her."

I could tell Balan wanted to go back himself. He no longer looked like the fierce warrior who had been swinging that longsword; he just looked like an older brother worried about his little sister.

"Leave it to me."

"Tell her... tell her I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I will."

With that, I left the forest behind and began the journey back to the capital.

By the time the sky was painted in shades of madder red, I arrived at Balan's home. I knocked on the door of the main house, and almost immediately, I heard the sound of frantic footsteps.

"Ah, Walt!"

Lina pulled the door open, her bright, beaming smile illuminated by the setting sun.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, my eyes instinctively going to her neck. The purple haze that had been suffocating her was completely gone.

"My fever broke suddenly last night! I feel wonderful! It’s all thanks to that medicine you gave me, Walt!"

I thought about the malice of the [Fragment of the Evil God] I had extracted from the shrine. It was currently sealed within the [Vessel of the Evil God], tucked safely away in my [Storage Space].

I had worried that keeping it on me might negatively affect her, but it seemed my concerns were unfounded. As long as I didn't take the vessel out of storage, she would be fine.

"I'm actually making dinner tonight! Please, Walt, you have to stay and eat with us!"

Lina grabbed my hand and practically dragged me inside. I allowed myself to be pulled into the dining room.

Lina was alone in the kitchen. Steam curled up from a pot, filling the room with a savory, mouth-watering aroma. Her father and older brother were likely still busy in the workshop. It occurred to me then that I had never seen her mother.

"Are you handling dinner all by yourself, Lina?" I asked, standing awkwardly by the table.

"My mother passed away when I was very young," Lina explained, stirring the pot with a slightly wistful smile. "So I usually do the cooking."

I felt like I finally understood why Balan was so overprotective of her. Her father and brothers must have raised her with incredible care. Being the closest in age, Balan had likely poured all the affection he could into her to fill the void their mother left behind.

"And while you were sick?"

"My brother Balan tried his best, but... he’s a terrible cook."

"I can imagine."

Lina gave a little giggle as she tasted the soup, likely reminiscing about whatever disaster Balan had served her.

"Balan told me to tell you he'd be home as soon as he can."

"Wait, you saw him?"

"Yeah, when I was out in the forest. He was working hard as one of Steel Fang's top fighters."

Lina paused, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Balan never talks about his work when he's at home! You have to tell me everything later!"

"Sure. I'll make sure to tell you all about his 'heroic' deeds."

I ended up staying for dinner with Lina, her father, and her other brother.

The meal she served in those simple wooden bowls was modest but warm, and the scent alone was enough to soothe the soul.

I found myself in a great mood, regaling them with slightly embellished tales of Balan’s bravery. Lina’s eyes sparkled with every word, while her father and brother listened on, nodding in quiet pride.