Gray and Tamemoto moved quickly along the familiar badlands paths.
Both of them had memorized every twist and turn around Camp Tile over the months — the way the river curved, the hidden dips where bandits liked to hide, the clusters of boulders that provided cover, the stretches of open ground that forced them to run exposed. They knew the terrain like the back of their hands.
Tamemoto led the way this time, his steps sure despite the weight of his bow on his back. His breathing was steady, controlled — a far cry from the scared boy Gray had first brought home.
“Up ahead,” Tamemoto said quietly. “There’s a high ground. If what the travelers said is true, it’s the perfect vantage point. We can see the entire approach to Ashfall from there.”
Gray nodded. “Good. Lead on.”
They alternated between running and walking. Gray kept his pace measured, eyes on Tamemoto. “Don’t rush,” he said. “Make sure we’re in optimal form when we arrive. Tired fighters make mistakes.”
Tamemoto slowed. “Right. I’m okay. Just… excited.”
Gray almost smiled. Almost.
They kept moving.
A few kilometers from the high ground, they crossed a path with a group of eight people.
The group wore matching oriental robes — deep indigo with subtle silver threading, flowing sleeves, and high collars. Six of them wore the same color, while two wore lighter blue robes with a distinctive logo embroidered on the chest: a stylized fan crossed with swimming fish, the symbol of the Azure Fan Sect from Orihara.
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The group stopped when they saw the two boys.
The leader — a tall man with a thin, elegant sword at his waist — raised a hand in greeting. His posture was calm, polite.
“Greetings, young travelers,” he said. “We are disciples of the Azure Fan Sect. We are heading toward Ashfall to investigate the troll horde rumor. May we ask your purpose?”
Gray’s hand rested near his knife. Tamemoto’s fingers brushed his bow string. Both boys were alert, ready to draw.
But the group’s demeanor was respectful.
No aggression.
No threat.
Gray spoke first. “We’re scouting. The camp is close. We need to know if the horde is coming our way.”
The leader nodded. “Wise. We share the same goal — information. Not unnecessary conflict. Would you consider working together? More eyes are better than two.”
Gray glanced at Tamemoto.
The younger boy’s eyes met his.
A silent question.
Gray gave a small nod.
“We’ll talk,” Gray said. “Give us a moment.”
They stepped aside a few paces.
Tamemoto spoke low. “I think they’re genuine. They’re polite. No ambush vibe.”
Gray agreed. “They’re here for merits or experience. Not to rob kids. But we don’t need merits. We just need information and resources.”
Tamemoto nodded. “We can work with them. But if it gets dangerous, we run. We inform Gauis and Rebecca right away.”
Gray looked at his brother. “You’re sure?”
Tamemoto met his gaze. “Yes. I’m ready.”
Gray nodded. “Then we follow your lead.”
They returned to the group.
Gray spoke. “We’ll work together. But we don’t need merits. We just need information and what we can take from the fight as resources.”
The leader’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. Then he smiled. “Fair. We are here for the troll ears — the requirement for our sect quest. Anything else you claim is yours.”
The group agreed.
They moved together toward the high ground.

