"Thomas," Jamie called out, turning his gaze toward him. "Do you know how to extract the crystal?"

  Thomas shook his head, a hint of regret in his eyes. "I don't. I've never actually been out in the field for that," he admitted.

  "I do," Camille interjected softly, raising her hand. "During the war, there were times we had to eliminate Monster Crystals."

  A flicker of relief crossed Jamie's face. "Excellent. Camille, you'll handle the crystal." He turned to the others, his voice steady as he issued his directives. "Bertram, I need you to skin the trolls and gather anything useful from them. Let's finish before the sunset. I’d rather not spend the night this deep in the forest."

  Bertram's eyes widened momentarily, but he swallowed hard and nodded. "Understood," he murmured.

  As Camille and Bertram set about their tasks, the clearing transformed into a scene of grim industry. Camille moved with practiced precision toward the fractured remnants of the crystal. Her fingers deftly manipulated small tools and pouches of fine powder, her movements methodical and sure. Bertram, meanwhile, approached the fallen trolls with palpable hesitation. Taking a steadying breath, he unsheathed a knife and began the arduous work of harvesting.

  Thomas watched them for a moment before walking over to Jamie, who stood at the edge of the clearing, his eyes scanning the forest's encroaching shadows.

  "Do you think Bertram knows how to dress a kill?" Thomas asked quietly, concern etched in the lines of his face. "Shouldn't we have a [Porter] or a [Forager] for this sort of thing?"

  Jamie glanced sideways at Thomas, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Perhaps," he acknowledged. "But he's a [Butcher]. He should know enough about handling carcasses."

  Thomas raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A [Butcher]? How do you know that?"

  Jamie chuckled softly, his gaze returning to the darkening treeline. "I have my ways," he replied enigmatically. In truth, it was an effect of his [Gangmaker] abilities, but he saw little need to elaborate.

  The two men lapsed into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they kept watch. The sun was dipping lower, casting the sky in hues of amber and violet.

  Jamie noticed the furrow in Thomas's brow, the way his friend's eyes lingered on Bertram's hunched form. "What's troubling you?" Jamie asked, his voice low.

  Thomas hesitated before speaking. "Do you think you were too hard on him?" he asked, nodding subtly toward Bertram. "There's a chance he might leave the company because of it."

  Jamie sighed, considering the question. "Perhaps," he admitted thoughtfully. "But if that's the case, it means we made a mistake in choosing him." He turned to face Thomas fully, his gaze steady and resolute. "What we're facing here is just the beginning. It won't compare to the responsibilities and the hardships we'll encounter when dealing with rival gangs or more dangerous foes. I can't afford to have someone who hesitates, someone who's unsure whether they should be here or whether they'll stand with us when it matters most."

  Thomas looked concerned, furrowing his brow. After a few moments of silent contemplation, he gave a subtle nod, accepting the weight of the words just spoken.

  "We will have to do things more vile and cruel than we'd like," Jamie said quietly, his voice steady. "But they're necessary. Someone must make the hard decisions, and when they are made, I need to be certain that my team can follow them through to the end."

  Thomas ran a hand through his hair, exhaling softly. "I understand," he replied, his gaze drifting to the forest's edge where the silhouettes of trees clawed at the twilight sky. "I just worry."

  "That's precisely why I need him to face these tests as soon as possible," Jamie continued. "Not only Bertram but all of them. We need to know where everyone stands."

  Before Thomas could respond, the soft crunch of leaves announced Camille's approach. Her elven features were serene yet focused, and her emerald eyes held a glint of accomplishment.

  "We've finished," she informed them, her voice a gentle whisper against the backdrop of the rustling forest.

  "Already?" Jamie asked, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise.

  "Yes," Camille nodded. "The crystal was straightforward to dismantle. Bertram managed to salvage some of the troll hides, but most were too badly burned to yield anything of quality."

  "Makes sense," Jamie conceded, glancing toward the dusky woodland. He straightened, a sense of urgency returning to his demeanor. "Let's move out of the forest. Keep a steady pace; we're not aiming to reach Hafenstadt tonight. We'll make camp along the road."

  With their leader's directive, the group swiftly gathered their belongings. The air was thick with the scents of earth and lingering smoke, a reminder of the battles fought earlier. They moved swiftly, the weight of fatigue evident but tempered by determination.

  The journey toward the forest's edge was unhurried yet vigilant. Without goblins lurking in the underbrush or the threat of trolls looming, the tension eased slightly. The sounds of night creatures emerged, a chorus of crickets and the distant hoot of an owl, filling the silence that had settled among them.

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  Upon reaching the boundary where dense trees gave way to open terrain, the group collectively released a breath they hadn't realized they'd been holding. The road stretched ahead, a ribbon of packed earth illuminated by moonlight.

  "Stand down, but stay alert," Jamie advised, his gaze scanning the horizon.

  They continued along the dirt path at a more relaxed pace. The cool air was refreshing, carrying with it the salty hint of the sea. Muscles that had been coiled tight with exertion and stress began to unwind.

  After some time, with Hafenstadt still a distant silhouette against the starlit backdrop, Jamie called for a halt. "We'll rest here for the night," he announced.

  Nestled beside the road was a gently sloping field where the grass was low and soft. The area was sheltered on one side by a stand of ancient oaks, their gnarled branches intertwining overhead, offering some protection from the elements.

  The companions set to work setting up camp. Bertram and Aldwin unfurled small canvas tents. The brothers exchanged few words, each lost in his own thoughts. Camille selected a spot beneath a sprawling oak, her delicate fingers deftly assembling her shelter with practiced ease.

  Meanwhile, Jamie and Thomas ventured a short distance to gather firewood. The forest's edge provided ample fallen branches and kindling. They worked in companionable silence, the quiet broken occasionally by the snap of a twig or the distant cry of a bird.

  Jay, the enigmatic cat visible only to Jamie, lounged on a patch of soft grass nearby. He rolled onto his back, rubbing against the ground with a purr of contentment.

  Jamie stood a short distance away, lost in his thoughts as he surveyed the flickering campfire. The orange flames danced and crackled, reflecting off his eyes which were deep with contemplation. Without concern for who might overhear, he turned to Thomas, who was stoking the fire with a steady hand.

  "Thomas," Jamie began, his voice low but clear in the quiet of the night. "What are the chances that if we had decided to return and report, the city wouldn't have been devastated?"

  Thomas paused, the piece of kindling in his hand momentarily forgotten. He gazed thoughtfully into the flames. "Slim," he finally replied. "Very slim. The crystal would likely have shattered by tomorrow, and the army would take days to mobilize. At the very least, the commercial quarter would have been decimated. Perhaps the Arcane Tower could have mounted a defense, some of the wizards might have held back the full force." His tone was grave, each word weighted with the implications.

  At the mention of the city’s peril, Bertram, Aldwin, and Camille glanced over, their hands slowing in their tasks of arranging gear and setting up tents. Though they continued their work, their ears were attuned to the conversation, the unspoken tension settling among them like a heavy mist.

  Jamie nodded thoughtfully. "And what are the chances that other mercenaries would have decided to stay and fight?"

  "None," Thomas stated with certainty. "They'd need a good amount of Rank C mercenaries or some Rank B to face that many trolls head-on. Even I can hardly believe we managed to eliminate so many ourselves."

  Jamie arched an eyebrow, his gaze piercing. "And they wouldn't send a Rank C or B company to handle goblins, correct?"

  Thomas shook his head. "No. Goblin infestations are typically classified as Rank D threats, Rank C at most, but not many."

  Silence settled between them as Jamie mulled over this information. The firelight played across his face, highlighting the lines of concern etched upon his brow. After a moment, he asked, "How do they even know when a Monster Crystal is present somewhere?"

  Thomas shrugged slightly. "It's not something they explain in detail. But they say the wizards have magical ways to detect them."

  Jamie glanced at Thomas before turning toward Camille, who was carefully securing the lines of her tent.

  "Camille," Jamie called softly. "Do you know anything about how they detect Monster Crystals?"

  She paused, considering. "I don't know the specifics," she admitted. "Detection spells of that caliber are usually reserved for high-ranking mages. But they have enchanted devices, arcane instruments that can sense the presence and strength of such crystals."

  Jamie absorbed this, his fingers idly tapping against his thigh. "Then they should have known that this was a crystal requiring at least a Rank B company to handle," he mused aloud.

  "Why all the questions?" Thomas inquired, his gaze steady on Jamie.

  Jamie sighed, folding his arms. "It's strange that we were sent to this forest specifically. When I researched typical assignments, I found that most companies are dispatched to the northern territories. It feels... out of the ordinary."

  Thomas nodded slowly but offered no further comment.

  Jamie pressed on. "Who would have the authority to assign a company to a particular location?"

  Thomas rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The Guild Master of the Mercenaries' Guild, certainly. The Governor, perhaps. And possibly the Head of the Council of Ministers."

  "Ah," Jamie murmured, a note of realization in his voice. He fell silent, his gaze shifting to the dark silhouettes of the trees that loomed beyond the circle of light cast by their campfire.

  The remainder of the evening unfolded with a semblance of normalcy. The group shared stories to lighten the mood, their voices mingling with the crackle of the fire and the distant sounds of nocturnal creatures stirring in the forest. Bertram recounted a humorous anecdote from his days apprenticing in the city, drawing chuckles from Aldwin. Camille listened quietly, a faint smile touching her lips as she sipped from a steaming cup of herbal tea.

  Later, Jamie retrieved his fiddle from its case, the polished wood gleaming softly in the firelight. He drew the bow across the strings, coaxing a gentle melody that wove through the night air like a whispered lullaby. The haunting notes carried over the rustling leaves, soothing the weariness of travel and battle alike.

  One by one, his companions retired to their tents, the day's fatigue finally settling upon them. Jamie continued to play softly until the last of them had drifted off. Then he set the fiddle aside, rising to his feet and stretching.

  The sky above was a tapestry of stars, the twin moons casting a silvery glow over the landscape. Jamie walked a short distance from the camp, his footsteps silent on the soft grass. He gazed upward, his thoughts turning inward as questions churned in his mind.

  Jay appeared beside him, the spectral cat moving with fluid grace. He settled next to Jamie, wrapping his tail around his paws. "What has been occupying your mind?" Jay asked in his gentle tone.

  Jamie glanced at him, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "The Head of the Council of Ministers—Maria von Hafenstadt," he replied. "I can't help but wonder why she would have sent us to this place. Was it just a test? Could it have been a trap? Perhaps it was none of those things. Maybe it was... a message."

  Jay tilted his head thoughtfully. "A message?" he echoed.

  "Yes," Jamie sighed. "Perhaps her way of saying, 'I know who you are.'?"

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