In the aftermath of the battle—silence.
Then, slow clapping.
Elohan appeared from the shadows, a smug smile on his sharp, handsome face.
"Not bad," he said, stepping into the light. "The traps and sealed exits made the difference. Without either, the current version of you wouldn't have been able to kill it." He turned, gaze playful. "What do you think… Clara?"
Clara jumped slightly. "Um… the net-gun worked well."
"Indeed. You did well destroying its stinger with the blunderbuss. Was that luck, or were you aiming?"
"I aimed for it," she admitted, cheeks coloring. "Probably a bit of luck that it actually blasted apart."
"Maybe," Elohan said, noncommittal. "The stealth gear functioned as intended. The manticore hesitated without a clear target. Dhalia—what was the issue with the heartguards?"
Dhalia looked thoughtful. "The manticore couldn't see us… but that meant we couldn't see each other, either. I could only track Cane by the stars over his head."
Elohan raised an eyebrow. "Starpower… not one, but now two. What can you alter to improve?"
Dhalia pursed her lips. "I've heard of an enchantment called cateyes. Thieves use it to see in darkness—but rumor says it can also reveal stealthed outlines."
"That would be a smart fix." He turned to Fergis. "Not being able to use flame directly should have been a handicap. But your rune work made the difference. Thoughts?"
"In hindsight," Fergis said, "I should've added poison runes. We had the time. I stuck to spike traps and frost. I could've done more."
Elohan's gaze finally landed on Cane. "You did something… different. I sensed movement from you that exceeded human limits. A new skill?"
"Yes," Cane replied. "I can move metal. My gear's interwoven with adamantium—if I immerse into it, I can shift my body in a chosen direction."
"I thought so…" Elohan smiled faintly. "Given your metallurgy affinity and the iron ore saturation, you probably could have collapsed the cave—killed the manticore on your own."
Cane grimaced. "I didn't think of that."
"No," Elohan said, "but you thought of everything else—and managed a high-threat encounter with sound tactical reasoning."
He stepped forward, drawing a blade from his hip. "All in all… I'm pleased with this mission."
With casual precision, he began to skin the manticore, separating choice cuts of meat. Mid-cut, he paused—blade flicking up faster than an arrow.
SHNK.
A raven dropped from the air, dead before it hit the ground. Elohan plucked his blade from the fallen bird, cleaning it on the grass.
"Start a fire," he said. "Might as well eat before you ride back."
Cane gestured toward the raven. "What was that?"
Elohan shrugged. "The eyes of someone. Could've been our enemy. Could've been a friend." He smiled coldly. "Either way… it's rude to spy."
The group returned to the Ironheart estate, spirits high. They laughed and traded jokes as they rode in, fatigue softened by victory. Prince was already stabled and rubbed down. The stablemaster met them with a kind smile and waved away their offers of help, taking the reins with practiced ease.
"Oh man… that was a good fight," Clara said, stretching her arms. "Who knew manticore tasted so good?"
She wore a wide grin as they walked toward the front door.
It opened before they reached it. Two women stepped out—Sophie, beaming with relief, and Nina, the poised attendant from the Olivara Auction House.
Sophie's face lit up. "Did it go well?"
Clara rubbed her stomach. "It did." Then she froze. "W-What is that?"
A reddish head—shoulder-height on Sophie—peeked between the two women. Calm, intelligent eyes stared at the group with open curiosity.
Sophie patted the animal's head. "Ask Cane."
All eyes turned.
Cane blinked. "Never seen it before."
"IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL!" Clara rushed forward, wrapping her arms around the hound's thick neck without hesitation.
The dog, massive and steady, accepted the attention calmly. Its shoulders were broad and muscular, legs lean and built for speed.
Cane studied it. "It looks like a warhound."
Sophie moved closer, slipping an arm around Cane's waist and kissing his cheek. "Relen said he gave you a letter explaining everything."
Cane pulled a folded piece of parchment from his ring and turned it over. Blank. Both sides.
Fergis laughed. "Someone's idea of a joke?"
"It's from Moriwynn," Cane muttered, stepping into the mental space between.
In an instant, the elfen warrior appeared before him—her image clad in gleaming Glacial Frost armor.
"I hope you are well, Cane. I kept close watch on your parents' caravan. On the first night, a group of five approached under darkness—thieves, at the very least. This hound was the mage's protector, bound under geas. I dealt with them.
I believe this animal would make a fine guardian for your estate.
Place my letter against his forehead and walk him around the perimeter. When you're finished, touch the letter to his head once more and say 'Guard'."
Cane nodded slowly. "Right… Let's do this, then."
He pressed the blank letter to the hound's forehead. Instantly, its eyes glowed with soft blue light.
Taking it by the collar, Cane led it around the property's perimeter. The dog moved confidently at his side, silent and alert. When they returned, he held the parchment to its head once more.
"Guard."
The blue light faded. The dog barked once and wagged its tail.
"Where did it come from?" Sophie asked.
Cane's brow furrowed for the briefest moment. He didn't answer right away.
Would her parents have survived that night without Moriwynn? Would the thieves have stopped at simple robbery?
He let the thought pass.
"Commander Moriwynn found it roaming wild," he said, voice calm. "Thought it'd make a good estate guardian."
Clara was still kneeling beside the dog, her freckled face glowing. "He's so beautiful…"
The hound wagged its tail again and sat just outside the door, still as a sentinel, while Clara hugged him like they'd been friends forever.
Cane stepped into the main house, offering Relen a wave as he headed upstairs, Sophie close behind.
"Young Master, dinner will be served at 6 p.m.," Relen called after them.
"Thank you, Relen. If I'm not up, please have someone knock on my door."
"As you say, Young Master."
As they passed his room, Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Where are we going?"
"Are your parents here?"
Sophie nodded. "Yeah, they returned shortly before you did. They were stacked with bags and materials—looked like they raided half the capital."
Cane grinned. "Did you have fun with Nina, today?"
"I did. We had lunch, then she gave my parents a tour of the auction house. After that, they visited several tailors." She glanced sideways. "They treated my parents really well… I was worried they might look down on us."
"I'm glad to hear that," Cane said softly.
He held open the door separating the main house from the guest wing, waiting as Sophie stepped through. A short walk brought them to the sewing suite—three spacious rooms: a bedroom with a bath, a small dining area, and a converted living space now full of fabric, measuring tapes, and patterns.
"Cane!" Dagan beamed, shaking his hand with enthusiasm. "This place is amazing!"
Lorna hugged him tight. "Everything's been wonderful. The trip here, the tailors, the auction house—thank you."
"I'm glad." Cane looked around at the cozy, creative chaos. "Have dinner with us in the main house tonight."
Lorna smiled warmly. "We'd love to. This has been a truly wonderful experience."
After chatting a while longer, Cane finally made his way back toward his room.
"Nap before dinner?" he asked.
Sophie nodded. "Let me tell Relen my parents are joining us—then I'll be right there."
Hours passed. Sophie blinked her eyes open to find Cane still soundly asleep, his head heavy in her lap. She smiled, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw.
He stirred, blinking up at her sleepily. "Dinner time?"
"You asked to be woken up to clean up," Sophie said, brushing his hair back. "And no—you didn't stop me. I just leaned back into the pillows. It felt nice."
Cane sat up with a slow stretch. "A bath sounds good... maybe some smithing after."
"I'll let Millie know," Sophie offered. "She's the sweetest."
"Nope," Cane said, smirking. "That title's taken. At best, she's second."
Sophie blushed, ducking her head. "Very well… I'll find her."
As Cane rolled out of bed, he glanced out the window—then blinked.
A massive hound was wriggling under the hedges. Clara stood nearby, clapping her hands excitedly.
He tapped his psi-rune.
Cane:What are you doing with the dog?
Clara:I named him Spud.
Cane:I was going to call him... Dog. Anyway—what's going on?
Clara:Spud is amazing. He's clearing out your rats.
Cane:We have rats?
Fergis:Every estate in the capital has them.
Clara:Well... you have sixteen fewer than you did this morning.
Fergis:Apparently, 'Spud' views them as a serious security threat.
Cane laughed aloud, shaking his head as he pulled a fresh set of clothes from his storage ring and headed for the bathroom.
Millie curtsied as he entered. "I'm prepping your bath, sir."
"I can handle it from here, Millie. Thank you."