The stink of the troll’s corpse lingered in the air, thick and sour, mixing with the acrid tang of burnt leaves. Josh stared at it in silence, chest still heaving, hands trembling despite himself. His shield lay shattered a few paces away, his sword slick with black ichor that had done nothing to save him.

  Brett was the first to speak. His voice cracked. “I… I thought we had it.” He stared at his staff as if it had betrayed him. “We’ve been cutting down goblins and drakes like they were nothing. But that—” His words faltered, eyes flicking to Josh. “That nearly killed you.”

  Carcan knelt beside Josh, pushing another wave of healing into his battered body. “Nearly?” she snapped. “If I hadn’t been right here, he’d already be dead. You can’t just dive in like that, Josh!” Her hands glowed green as she forced more magic into him, but her eyes shone with fear. “You think being the wall means taking on everything yourself? Idiot! A wall only stands because others support it.”

  Josh wanted to argue, to defend himself, but the words died on his tongue. He saw again the troll’s shadow looming over him, the futility of his strikes against its hide, the helplessness clawing through his chest. He swallowed hard, shame weighing heavier than his armour. The old feeling of being nothing but a big, useless idiot crept back into him.

  Perberos spat into the dirt, breaking the silence. “We were fools. I thought—” He shook his head. “I thought we were getting stronger, but that thing didn’t even slow down. If Caistina hadn’t been here…” His jaw tightened. “We’d be carcasses feeding crows.”

  Josh finally found his voice. Quiet, raw. “I… I couldn’t even scratch it.” He clenched his fist, staring at the red lines of his gauntlet where his sword had slipped. “All my training, all those drills… nothing. It was like striking stone.”

  Brett stepped closer, his face pale, eyes glassy. “You were about to die, Josh. I—I couldn’t do anything. My magic just bounced off it. If Caistina hadn’t—” His voice broke. He looked away, shoulders trembling.

  Caistina, who had stood silent through their outbursts, finally spoke. Her tone was steady, cutting, yet softer than before. “Now you begin to see. Strength is not measured in what you’ve slain, but in what you’ve survived.” She gestured to the troll’s mangled body, black ichor pooling beneath it. “You faced something far beyond you and lived, not by your hand, but by luck and by mine. That is not victory. That is warning.”

  Josh bowed his head. “I thought I was ready. I thought I had a purpose”

  “No,” she said firmly. “You thought you were invincible. The difference between those two will decide whether you live to see another dawn. But you do have a purpose, you just need to learn your capabilities and learn when to turn back.”

  For a long moment, the forest was silent again, the party standing in a ragged circle of fear and exhaustion. Finally, Carcan rose, wiping her hands on her robes. “We need to move. Sitting here makes us bait for whatever else lurks.”

  No one argued.

  As they fell into step, dusk light filtered through the canopy, long beams slanting between the trees. The world seemed quieter, heavier, as if the forest itself had seen their brush with death and now watched them more closely. Josh tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, the broken remains of his shield strapped to his arm.

  For the first time since arriving in this world, he didn’t feel like a rising hero. He felt like prey.

  The forest pressed in around them, branches arching like ribs overhead, the last light of dusk bleeding to violet between the leaves. Every step seemed louder than it should have been, boots crunching twigs, armour brushing bark. The silence of the party was heavier still.

  Josh trudged at the front, his shield-arm aching from the weight of the ruined slab strapped to it. He kept glancing down at his sword, streaked black from troll ichor. The blade hadn’t even pierced. He tightened his grip until his knuckles whitened. What good am I if I can’t even protect them?

  Behind him, Brett walked with his head bowed, staff dragging against the earth. His jaw worked as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Finally, he spoke, voice low and hoarse. “Josh… when it had you… when the troll had you—” He swallowed. “I thought that was it. I thought I was about to watch you die and… and I couldn’t stop it.”

  Josh didn’t turn, didn’t slow. “I couldn’t stop it either,” he muttered.

  Carcan piped up quickly, her voice bright, almost too bright, trying to repair the rift the party had suffered. “But you did stop it. You held that monster long enough for Caistina to act. That takes guts, Josh. I don’t think I could’ve done the same.”

  Josh gave a bitter laugh. “Holding it off? I was barely clinging on. It could’ve crushed me any second.”

  “Still,” Carcan pressed, moving closer, her arm brushing his. “You didn’t run, and at the end you were willing to sacrifice yourself to save us. That counts for something. Heroes don’t win every fight. Sometimes surviving is the victory.”

  Perberos snorted softly. “She’s right, in her way. If you’d broken, we’d all be bones back there. You bought us time, lad. Don’t spit on that.”

  Brett finally raised his head, his expression tortured. “You don’t get it. I should have done more. I’ve been relying on Josh to hold the line since the start. Every time things got hairy, he’s been there. And I thought—” His hands shook on his staff. “I thought I was finally pulling my weight. Fireballs, snares, all of it. But against that thing? Nothing. My magic was just… sparks against a mountain.”

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  Caistina’s voice cut in then, cold and sharp as flint. “Because you are still children playing at war.”

  The words froze them all. She hadn’t spoken since the fight, and now her tone carried none of the warmth it had before. She walked behind them, staff tapping lightly against the earth, her amethyst eyes hard. “You boast after felling wasps and goblins, you laugh at danger, you forget that death stalks every shadow here. And so you grew careless.” She fixed Josh with a stare. “You charged when you should have held.” Then to Brett. “You panicked when you should have calculated.” Her gaze swept to the twins. “And you two treated slaughter like sport.”

  Carcan flinched. “That’s not—”

  “It is,” Caistina snapped, her voice like a whip. “And if I had not been there, you would all be corpses cooling in the dirt.”

  A heavy silence followed, broken only by the rustle of leaves overhead.

  Josh wanted to argue, but the memory of the troll’s fist descending silenced him. Instead, he muttered, “She’s right.”

  Perberos rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “Maybe. But we did survive. You can’t just throw that away either.”

  Carcan latched onto his words. “Exactly! We survived, and now we know better. Next time we won’t—” She faltered, searching Josh’s face. “Next time we’ll be smarter.”

  Josh finally slowed, turning to face them all. His eyes were hard, his voice rough. “There won’t be a next time like that. If we face something that far out of our league again, we run. We regroup. Because if Caistina hadn’t stepped in, I’d be dead and the rest of you probably would be as well. I’m not letting that happen again.”

  The group fell silent at his words. Even Caistina said nothing, only watching him with unreadable eyes.

  They walked on into the gathering dark, the air cool and heavy, each of them alone in their thoughts. The earlier cocky confidence had drained away, replaced with something more fragile: a wary awareness of just how small they still were in a vast and deadly world.

  The path bent, and through the thinning trees a familiar silhouette rose against the fading sky. Stone walls, squat but sturdy, encircled rooftops that glimmered in the last threads of sunset. The gates of Ashenfall stood tall, iron-bound and weatherworn, the torches already lit along their frame.

  Josh slowed, his breath catching. For the past few hours he’d been trapped in his own thoughts, replaying the troll’s fist, the weight of failure pressing in. But now, now he saw the place that had become their anchor in this strange world.

  Brett lifted his head, eyes widening. “The walls…” His voice cracked, a mixture of disbelief and relief. “We made it back.”

  Carcan gave a small cheer, grabbing her brother’s arm. “I told you! I told you we’d make it back safe!” She laughed, the sound too loud after their long silence, but it carried like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

  Perberos grinned, shaking his head. “Home sweet home. Never thought I’d be happy to see those cranky gate guards again.”

  The four of them quickened their pace, the dirt path giving way to packed stone. Their exhaustion, their bruises, even their guilt seemed to burn away in the rush of return. They half jogged, half stumbled forward, boots striking in uneven rhythm as the gates loomed larger.

  Josh felt his throat tighten as the torches came into sharp focus, as voices carried faintly from beyond the wall. He wasn’t sure if it was relief, or shame at what had almost happened, but he found himself surging ahead with the others, heart pounding.

  For the first time since the fight, even Caistina’s stern expression softened. She lingered behind them, her staff clicking steadily against the stone, eyes flicking toward the walls with something like approval.

  The guards at the gate leaned out, catching sight of the group rushing toward them.

  “Oi! Another batch of Ashenfall’s newest adventurers return!” one called, his tone more jovial than mocking.

  The great wooden doors creaked as they began to swing open, torches spilling golden light into the twilight road. And together, battered but alive, the party crossed back into the safety of their town.

  The gates shut behind them with a groan, sealing the night outside. Ashenfall stretched before them, cloaked in torchlight and shadow. The streets lay mostly empty, save for the stagger of a drunk weaving his way toward an alley, and the steady patrol of guards whose boots echoed sharply on cobblestones. The air smelled of smoke and faint ale, comforting in its familiarity.

  No one cheered, no one rushed to meet them. The town carried on in its hushed rhythm, unaware of the blood and danger the party had left behind in the forest.

  Their boots clattered in uneven steps as they walked, exhaustion weighing heavy. No one spoke. Even Perberos and Carcan kept their heads bowed. The twins stayed close together, Josh at their side, Brett trailing slightly behind, his staff tapping softly like a heartbeat against the stone. Caistina walked last, silent and stern, her presence pressing at their backs like a reminder of the lesson unspoken.

  The guildhall rose at the street’s end, its broad oak doors lit by a pair of lanterns swaying gently in the night breeze. The carved crest of Ashenfall’s Adventurers Guild gleamed in the flicker of flame, crossed sword and staff wreathed in laurel, a symbol of deeds recorded and debts paid.

  They stopped at the threshold.

  Josh’s hand hovered over the door, fingers brushing against the iron band that ran across its surface. For a long moment, he said nothing, his reflection caught in the polished metal fittings. He thought of the troll’s roar, of nearly being crushed to pulp beneath its fist. He thought of Caistina’s scorn, and of how close he’d come to failing them all.

  Beside him, Brett adjusted his grip on his staff, jaw tight. His lips parted, then closed again, words swallowed before they could take form.

  The twins exchanged a look. Carcan’s face was pale but steady, her brother’s eyes burning with an optimism that seemed forced, yet needed.

  Caistina stood behind them, arms folded, watching without a word.

  For a moment, none of them moved. The hall loomed before them, not just a building but a measure of who they were becoming, of the weight of their failures, and the promise of what might yet come.

  Josh inhaled, steadying himself, and finally pushed the door open.

  The guild awaited.

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