The fire had burned down to embers.
Everyone sat in silence. The exhaustion had sunk so deep that even words felt too heavy. No one spoke.
Then the darkness above began to shift. The last shadows of night pulled back, and a faint orange light bled slowly across the horizon.
Everyone looked up.
And as if the world had given a quiet, wordless signal — the tension in every pair of shoulders eased. Just slightly.
Then —
*"Gwaaaaahhhhh!"*
Everyone was on their feet at once.
It was a scream that made the air feel heavier. No words. No language. Just raw, inhuman agony that echoed through the trees and refused to fade.
It was coming from inside the tent.
Clad was already moving. He was through the flap before anyone else had taken a step.
"Wait." The merchant caught Arthur by the arm.
Arthur stopped. The merchant held his gaze for a single moment, then stepped inside.
---
Jack was curled in the corner of the tent, pressed low against the ground.
His crossbow lay in the dirt beside him — the same weapon that had been raised and ready just minutes ago. The pressure radiating from the child's body had drained the feeling from his hands entirely. The weapon had simply fallen.
In its place, both of Jack's trembling hands were pressed over the merchant's son's ears and eyes, the boy pulled tight against his chest. Shielding him from the sight and the screaming was the only thing left Jack could do.
The merchant's son was still asleep. Exhaustion and Jack's desperate hold had kept him from the worst of it. Jack was a trained guard — but the weight inside that tent had paralyzed him completely. He wanted to do something. He couldn't.
And the child —
The veins across his body had turned black. Across his hands, his neck, his face — dark lines branched beneath the skin, spreading from the inside out. His eyes were squeezed shut. His body writhed.
But his hands were completely still.
As if the connection between his mind and his body had simply snapped.
*"Aaaaaaahhhhh!"*
The scream tore through again — and this time it carried a pain that didn't sound like it belonged to a child at all.
The merchant's expression hardened.
Clad didn't hesitate. His hand went into his coat and came out with an old, weathered scroll. He placed it over the child's body and pressed both palms flat against it.
He closed his eyes.
His energy began to pour downward — into the scroll, into the child. The veins in Clad's face pulled tight. A thin line of blood ran slowly from his nose. He was pushing past his limit.
Then the scroll came alive.
A faint, warm yellow light pulsed outward, spreading steadily across every inch of the child's body. The black lines began to fade. One by one.
The screaming dropped to a whimper. Then to silence.
And then the child went still.
Clad had nothing left. His palms were shaking. His eyes were losing focus. He began to fall backward — and the merchant caught him in a single step, taking his full weight without a word.
The merchant turned toward Jack, opened his mouth —
And stopped.
He felt it. From outside. Without looking, he already knew.
"Leo!" His voice cut through the tent wall. "Bring the orb inside — now!"
Arthur stepped aside from the entrance, and Leo came through a heartbeat later, the glowing orb in his hand.
The merchant took it and moved to Clad.
"Here. Absorb it."
Clad's fingers closed around it, shaking but holding. He brought both palms together and shut his eyes.
Slowly, blue light seeped from the orb, drawn inward through his palms, filling him from the hands up. The trembling stopped. His breathing deepened. His body steadied.
After a long moment, Clad opened his eyes. He drew the last trace of energy from the orb, and the stone crumbled to ash between his palms, scattering silently to the ground.
He exhaled.
The merchant rested one hand on his shoulder for a moment. Said nothing. Then stood.
He turned to Jack, who still had the merchant's son pressed against his chest.
"It's over, Jack. Carry him out just like that, straight to the carriage. Wake the workers while you're at it."
Jack let out a long, shaking breath. He gave a single nod. Without waking the boy, he rose carefully and walked out through the flap.
The merchant's gaze moved to the child lying unconscious on the ground.
"And this one —"
"I'll carry him, My Lord."
Clad. Still on the ground, completely spent. But his eyes — fixed on that small, broken shape — held something that hadn't been there before.
The merchant looked at him. A quiet moment passed between them. He gave a small nod, then turned and walked out.
---
Arthur was standing at the entrance, eyes on the darkest part of the treeline, hand resting on his hilt.
The merchant stepped out and looked up at the sky. Sunlight had broken through.
"My Lord—"
"Prepare to move." Cold. Sharp. "The energy leaked during that. Whatever's still in this forest will have caught the scent by now. A second wave could come at any moment."
Every trace of exhaustion left Arthur's face in an instant.
"Yes, My Lord." He turned and moved toward the horses.
---
The camp came down in near-total silence.
The workers emerged without a word and got straight to work. The tent collapsed. Supplies were loaded. Horses were readied. Everyone moved with the understanding that a single wasted second could cost them everything.
Clad carried the child out and settled him carefully inside the carriage, then took a place beside him. The merchant's son lay nearby, still asleep. The merchant took his seat.
The caravan moved out.
The road was quiet. Leo held the reins at the front, steady and alert. Clad hadn't returned to his horse — he sat in the corner of the carriage, back against the wall. The orb had stabilized him, but his bones still ached with every bump in the road. His eyes were on the path ahead. His mind was somewhere else. The unrest inside him hadn't faded. It sat low and burning — pressed down, but not gone.
---
Hours passed.
The road grew wider. The trees thinned. Fields opened up in the distance.
Then a town came into view. Stone walls. Wooden rooftops. The faint smell of morning smoke on a cool, clean breeze.
The caravan slowed as it approached the main gate. The gatekeeper spotted them from a distance and straightened immediately. He pushed the heavy iron gate open, and as the merchant's carriage rolled through, bowed in a deep, respectful salute.
---
**[Chapter 5 — End]**