The wilderness night remained cold.
Massive trees surrounded the expedition camp like silent ancient guardians while moonlight filtered weakly through drifting clouds overhead. The large campfires burned lower now, their orange flames crackling softly beneath the endless darkness stretching across the southern wildness.
Most explorers had settled into quieter conversations.
Some sharpened weapons.
Others cleaned armor.
Several mages continued copying medicinal records beneath lanternlight despite exhaustion pulling heavily at their eyes.
And in the distance—
The sounds of nocturnal creatures echoed faintly through the forest.
The first batch preparations were nearly complete.
Ten explorers would leave at dawn carrying the recovered resources back toward the Southern Council Headquarters.
Everyone understood the importance of it.
Yet amidst the organized atmosphere—
One person remained visibly unsettled.
Teren.
The young explorer sat near the outer edge of the camp holding a wooden bowl of stew he barely touched. The firelight illuminated his tense expression while his fingers trembled faintly against the bowl itself.
His eyes constantly drifted toward the darkness beyond the camp.
Then toward the people laughing nearby.
Then downward again.
Restless.
Conflicted.
Afraid.
And Kel noticed immediately.
Sairen softly murmured through the soul-link.
"…That boy looks like he's about to collapse from overthinking."
Kel quietly observed Teren from across the campfire.
The young explorer attempted hiding his unease—
Poorly.
His shoulders remained stiff.
His breathing uneven.
His eyes avoided the first-batch volunteers entirely.
Fear.
Shame.
Indecision.
Kel slowly stood from his position near the central fire and calmly walked across the clearing.
The nearby explorers briefly glanced toward him before returning to their own conversations.
No one interrupted.
Teren noticed Kel approaching only when the black-haired man stopped beside him.
The young explorer visibly straightened in surprise.
"My lord—"
"Move."
Kel calmly interrupted.
Teren blinked in confusion before quickly shifting sideways across the fallen tree trunk they were using as seating.
Kel sat beside him quietly.
The fire crackled softly nearby.
Cold wilderness wind passed through the trees.
For several moments—
Neither spoke.
Kel simply accepted a wooden bowl from a passing mercenary and calmly began eating while staring toward the distant darkness beyond the camp.
Teren grew visibly more nervous beside him.
Finally—
Kel spoke.
"Why didn't you step forward earlier?"
The young explorer froze instantly.
The bowl in his hands trembled slightly.
"…What?"
Kel calmly continued eating.
"You wanted to leave with the first batch."
A faint pause followed.
"But you didn't."
Teren's eyes widened slightly.
"How did you know?"
Kel glanced toward him briefly.
"Your behavior."
The firelight reflected faintly within his dark eyes.
"And your trembling."
Silence.
Teren slowly lowered his gaze afterward.
His fingers tightened around the wooden bowl until his knuckles turned pale.
For several moments—
Only the sounds of distant laughter and crackling fire filled the silence between them.
Then finally—
The young explorer spoke quietly.
"…My older brother…"
His voice felt strained.
Uneasy.
"He once joined a noble-led battlefield expedition."
Kel remained silent.
Listening.
Teren stared into the fire while speaking slowly.
"There was an ambush."
A faint pause followed.
"Monsters."
"Collapsed terrain."
"Chaos."
The young explorer's jaw tightened.
"My brother ran."
The fire crackled softly.
"He abandoned the battlefield to save himself."
Teren's fingers trembled harder now.
"And afterward…"
His voice lowered almost into a whisper.
"…he died branded as a coward."
Kel quietly watched the flames.
"The nobles blamed him for retreating."
The young explorer softly laughed bitterly beneath his breath.
"No one attended his funeral."
Silence settled heavily afterward.
Teren slowly clenched his fists.
"I don't want people looking at me the same way."
The young explorer's eyes reflected the firelight weakly.
"I don't want people calling me a coward."
Kel remained quiet several moments.
Then calmly asked—
"Your brother…"
A slight pause followed.
"…was he brave?"
Teren blinked slightly.
Confused by the question.
"…What?"
Kel finally looked toward him directly.
"Your brother was brave enough to make a decision."
The words stunned Teren briefly.
Kel calmly continued.
"You…"
His eyes narrowed faintly.
"…are actually more foolish than your brother."
The young explorer froze.
Not because the words sounded cruel.
But because Kel spoke completely seriously.
The fire crackled between them softly.
Then Kel quietly asked—
"Tell me."
His calm voice carried no mockery.
Only cold logic.
"How many people in this world truly know your brother's name?"
Teren slowly lowered his gaze.
"…Almost none."
Kel nodded once.
"And how many still talk about him being a coward?"
Silence.
"…Only a few people."
Kel quietly took another bite from the bowl before answering.
"Then those few simply enjoy badmouthing him."
The young explorer visibly stiffened.
Kel's tone remained calm.
Almost detached.
"They have personal interest in preserving that image of him."
The wilderness wind moved softly through the trees around them.
"You think your brother lived in shame."
Kel slowly looked toward the dark forest beyond the camp.
"But did you ever stop to think…"
A faint pause followed.
"…why he ran away?"
Teren froze completely.
Kel continued quietly.
"Maybe he didn't want to die."
The young explorer's breathing slowed slightly.
"Maybe…"
Kel's eyes remained fixed toward the darkness ahead.
"…the reason he retreated…"
A faint pause followed.
"…was you."
Teren's eyes widened.
"You said you were young back then."
Kel calmly continued.
"A toddler."
The firelight flickered softly across his face.
"If your brother died there…"
Kel's voice lowered slightly.
"…who would have taken care of you?"
Silence.
Heavy silence.
The young explorer's fingers loosened around the bowl unconsciously.
Kel calmly continued.
"Perhaps he was alone supporting your family."
"Perhaps all responsibility rested on him."
"Perhaps dying heroically would've satisfied nobles…"
His eyes darkened faintly.
"…but starved his family."
Teren's breathing became uneven again.
But differently now.
Not from fear.
From realization.
Because for the first time—
Someone questioned the story itself.
Kel quietly exhaled.
"Sometimes…"
A faint pause followed.
"…running away is the intelligent choice."
The campfire crackled softly beside them.
"Everyone is selfish, Teren."
Kel's calm voice echoed quietly beneath the wilderness night.
"No one belongs entirely to another person."
"You cannot fully rely on anyone except yourself."
Sairen softly sighed through the soul-link.
"…That sounded incredibly cold."
Kel answered internally.
"Reality usually is."
Meanwhile—
Teren silently stared into the fire.
His eyes had become slightly red now.
Not from shame.
From finally understanding something about his brother he never considered before.
Kel finally stood slowly from the fallen tree trunk.
Then calmly spoke one final time.
"Hear my advice."
Teren looked upward toward him.
"Survive."
The cold wilderness wind moved through Kel's black coat softly beneath the moonlight.
"Continue this expedition for now."
His gaze remained calm.
Steady.
"And when we gather another enormous batch of resources…"
A faint pause followed.
"…leave with the second group."
The firelight flickered between them.
"Stay alive long enough to return home."
Silence lingered afterward.
Then slowly—
Teren lowered his head deeply.
Not out of obligation.
Not fear.
Gratitude.
"…Thank you."
Kel simply turned away afterward and walked back toward the central campfires without another word.
Leaving the young explorer alone beside the flames—
Quietly reconsidering the meaning of courage for the first time in his life.