"I've found it!" Jay exclaimed triumphantly. "Fire and acid are a troll's weaknesses. But you can also kill them by severing their head!"

  As Jay continued his excited revelation, Bertram and Aldwin collapsed onto the forest floor, gasping for breath. Their chests heaved as they tried to steady their racing hearts, the adrenaline of battle slowly ebbing away.

  Thomas stood nearby, his stance vigilant and eyes sharp as he scanned the surrounding woods for any additional threats.

  Jamie hurried over and reached Camille just in time as she descended from the massive corpse of the fallen troll. The creature's hulking form lay motionless, its thick hide marred by wounds and scorch marks. Camille's steps were unsteady, her usually nimble movements slowed by exhaustion.

  "Are you alright?" Jamie asked gently, concern evident in his eyes as he steadied her.

  "Yes... just tired," Camille replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Beads of sweat clung to her brow, and she leaned against Jamie for support, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. He guided her to a nearby fallen log covered in emerald moss, where she could sit and recover.

  From where he lay sprawled on the ground, Aldwin looked over, a mixture of awe and excitement gleaming in his eyes. "We have a witch on our team? Who would've thought!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with newfound admiration. "Or is it a sorceress?"

  Camille glanced away, her expression guarded as she struggled to find the words. "I..."

  "Let her rest," Jamie interjected firmly, casting a meaningful look at Aldwin. "I already knew," he added with a faint smile, attempting to ease the sudden attention on her.

  "That's amazing," Aldwin continued, unable to contain his enthusiasm. His usual stoicism gave way to genuine wonder, his gaze fixed on Camille as if seeing her for the first time. Bertram propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes wide with surprise. Even Thomas allowed a brief look of astonishment to cross his usually composed features.

  The group fell into contemplative silence, the weight of Camille's revelation settling among them.

  After several minutes, as their breathing steadied and strength returned, Thomas broke the quiet. "We should get moving," he advised, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "We've made a lot of noise."

  Jamie nodded in agreement. "We also need to find out what happened to the goblins," he said thoughtfully, his gaze drifting back toward the path they'd been following. "Though it's likely connected to the troll."

  Aldwin pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his leather armor. "We could follow the troll's trail," he suggested, pointing to the deep, sunken footprints leading into the forest. "It was so heavy that its tracks are easy to find."

  "Let's proceed slowly. We don't know if we'll encounter more trolls," Jamie cautioned, his voice low as he cast a wary glance into the depths of the forest.

  Thomas took the lead, moving with deliberate care, his eyes scanning every rustle in the underbrush, every sway of the leaves. Jamie lingered at the back of the group, falling into step beside Camille, who was trailing slightly behind.

  "Are you alright?" Jamie asked gently, his eyes searching her face.

  "Yes, yes," she replied quickly, mustering a small smile. She straightened her posture as if to emphasize her words, but the faint tremor in her voice betrayed her exhaustion.

  Jamie studied her for a moment. "Do you have any more charges of that spell or anything else that can produce fire?" he inquired, his tone suggesting concern rather than expectation. He needed to know what resources they had left should they face another threat like the troll.

  Camille hesitated briefly before answering. "I have a few basic fire spells left, but nothing as powerful," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the forest floor. "Nothing that would stop a creature like that again."

  "That's good to know," Jamie replied reassuringly. "Every bit helps." He offered her an encouraging nod. As they continued walking, he noticed Aldwin, up ahead, casting furtive glances back toward them. The young half-elf's eyes lingered on Camille, a mix of awe and curiosity evident in his expression.

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  "Why was he so excited to see you using magic?" Jamie asked, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Is it something significant among elves?"

  Camille took a slow breath, her eyes focused on the path ahead. "Magic is very important to the elven people," she began thoughtfully. "Even a half-elf like Aldwin understands its significance. [Sorcerers] and [Wizards] are considered sacred among our kind. They're seen as the keepers of ancient traditions and the protectors of our heritage."

  Jamie nodded, recalling fragments from Jay's scattered memories about the reverence elves held for magic users. But those memories were hazy, like images viewed through mist. "I see," he said softly. "That explains his enthusiasm."

  They walked in companionable silence for a few moments, the only sounds the crunch of leaves beneath their boots and the distant call of forest birds.

  Curiosity gnawed at Jamie's mind. He glanced sideways at Camille. "But then, why would they leave a [Witch] like you in another empire after the war?" he asked gently. As the question hung in the air, he noticed a shadow pass over Camille's face. Her features tightened, and her eyes reflected a deep, lingering sorrow.

  She sighed softly, her breath visible in the cool air. "I am seen by many as cursed," she confessed, her voice tinged with resignation. "Although I can use magic, my mana is so little that I can only perform a second-rank spell once a day. And even then, not without side effects. You saw how exhausted I became after facing the troll."

  Jamie nodded in agreement, his thoughts still lingering on the conversation when he suddenly walked straight into Bertram's back, who had stopped abruptly. Rubbing his forehead from the unexpected collision, Jamie blinked and tried to peer over Bertram's shoulder to see what had caused the sudden halt.

  At the front of the group, Thomas stood with one hand raised, a silent command for everyone to freeze in their tracks. His posture was tense, every muscle poised like a coiled spring. Slowly, he crouched down, pressing himself close to the forest floor, and gestured for the others to do the same. The dense underbrush rustled softly as the team mimicked his movements, hearts pounding in the eerie silence.

  Without uttering a word, Thomas beckoned Jamie forward with a quick motion of his hand. Jamie, still rubbing the sting out of his face, carefully crawled through the dry leaves and roots.

  As he reached the front, Jamie's eyes followed Thomas's fixed gaze, and his breath caught in his throat. The blood drained from his face as the gravity of their situation became chillingly clear.

  ‘By the gods…’ Jamie thought, a surge of dread flooding his veins.

  "Bloody hell. There must be over twenty trolls out there," Jay's voice whispered urgently in his mind, mirroring Jamie's own disbelief.

  Ahead of them, less than five hundred meters away, lay a wide clearing bathed in the muted light of dusk. At its center stood a semicircle of three cave entrances carved into a rocky hillside, like gaping mouths hungry for the night. Looming before these caverns were trolls, massive, grotesque figures that moved with a brutish lethargy. Their mottled gray-green skin was stretched taut over bulging muscles, warty and rough like the bark of ancient trees.

  The trolls milled about restlessly, some brandishing crude clubs made from uprooted trees, others gnawing on unidentifiable hunks of meat. Their guttural grunts and occasional roars echoed across the clearing.

  ‘One was already a nightmare to kill,’ Jamie thought, his jaw tightening as he clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. ‘But twenty…’

  He signaled urgently to the group, motioning for them to retreat quietly. His heart hammered in his chest as he calculated their odds; slim to none if they were discovered. Just as they began to inch backward, Thomas placed a firm hand on Jamie's shoulder, his grip like iron.

  "Wait," Thomas whispered, his voice barely audible over the distant clamor of the trolls.

  Jamie turned, a question in his eyes. Thomas raised his arm slowly, pointing toward the center of the clearing. Jamie squinted, following the line of sight. There, hovering a few meters above the ground, was a large crystal, glowing with an ominous crimson light. It was perfectly shaped like a diamond, its facets sharp and clear despite the eerie aura it emitted. Thin tendrils of almost imperceptible smoke or mist curled from its surface, dissipating into the cool evening air.

  "What is that?" Jamie breathed, his voice a mere ghost of a sound.

  "A Monster Crystal," Thomas replied, his eyes never leaving the shimmering artifact. "It's what's spawning and enraging the trolls."

  "Are you sure?" Jamie asked, a knot forming in his stomach.

  Thomas nodded solemnly. "Yes."

  As if in response to their whispers, a sharp cracking sound pierced the air. Jamie watched in alarm as a web of fractures began to spread across the lower tip of the crystal. The pristine surface splintered slowly, ominously, as if under immense pressure from within.

  "What happens if it breaks?" Jamie asked, though dread coiled in his gut, the answer already lurking in the back of his mind.

  "Monster Rush," Thomas murmured, his face grim. "An uncontrolled surge of creatures pouring forth."

  Jamie felt a cold sweat trickle down his temple. "What are the chances the city guards can hold off twenty to thirty trolls?" he asked, his voice tight.

  Thomas met his gaze, the severity in his eyes speaking volumes. "Zero," he stated bluntly.

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