The surroundings seemed frozen. All sounds of chatting, small laughter, eating sounds all fell completely silent. Theo clearly sensed the cold seriousness of this moment.

  Vesper continued speaking, designating the first person with a glance:

  "Start from Ryel."

  Ryel shifted slightly to reduce tension then calmly answered. Voice concise and professional:

  "Good tactics."

  Ronan, deep stable and objective voice, nodded slightly before saying:

  "Coordination not bad, good foundation."

  Finn smiled, hand resting on knee, giving praise based on emotion and impression:

  "Very bold, courageous."

  Vesper commented with harsh and uncompromising voice like a knife blade:

  "Theo, close combat weakness needs overcoming. Liam, direct combat skills too weak, lacking professionalism—wild talent needing more professional training."

  Torvin scratched his head, somewhat dazed, as if just waking from a roast meat dream:

  "Roast meat tastes good."

  Boris took a sip of soup then nodded vigorously agreeing with his friend:

  "Right, right... stew very delicious."

  Rowan smiled gently, gentle gaze looking at the two boys. She maintained the encourager role:

  "Very team-spirited, excellent for 14 years old. You are rough diamonds."

  Sable's turn—her shoulder slightly contracted, pale cheeks faintly flushing pink. She pursed her lips, looking straight at the fire spot, seemingly gathering all courage to say one compliment. Sable took a very deep breath, opened her mouth—only for an extremely small, dry 'uhm' to escape.

  Instantly, she locked her jaw tight, spine straight. The pink color withdrew from her face as fast as receding water, and her gaze returned to a coldly distant icy look. She bowed her head low, the silence after carrying decisiveness—a declaration she had chosen to say nothing, ending her comment portion abruptly.

  "..."

  Rowan smiled softly. She reached down gently grasping Sable's clenched hand, squeezing once comfortingly.

  Vesper waited for Rowan's small laugh to completely cease. He didn't rush to summarize, but looked straight into Theo's eyes, gaze cold-sharp as if wanting to pierce through his calm shell.

  He asked, voice low but carrying terrible weight, not criticism but a sharp philosophical question slicing straight at Theo's choice:

  "You could have won. But you chose to stop."

  Vesper's voice suddenly lowered, rasping like metal scraping on stone:

  "By stopping, you pushed yourself and Al into dangerous situations, Liam's sacrifice was negated, all plans and efforts from the beginning became a joke."

  He tilted his head, asking a lethal question with contemptuous voice:

  "You traded victory for cheap mental satisfaction—was that worth it?"

  The air sank again into terrifying silence. All eyes poured onto Theo, waiting for an answer to the choice.

  Theo raised his head, eyes unwavering. He waited a few seconds for the silence to become heavier, then spoke in a low but very clear voice:

  "I didn't stop to appear noble.

  I stopped because if I won alone, that would be a failure in tactics."

  The atmosphere suddenly tightened. Theo continued:

  "That plan was a two-person plan.

  If I alone reached the destination when Liam wasn't there...

  it means the plan had failed."

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  "I didn't want to win with a tactic that died halfway."

  Theo closed his eyes, voice lowering but serious:

  "And... I didn't want to stand at the finish line and look back,

  seeing myself standing alone."

  A straightforwardness without emotion, but carrying full weight.

  He opened his eyes, looking up at Vesper once more. Eyes persistent, stubborn, affirming—Vesper understood immediately: if the situation repeated, this kid would still choose exactly the same.

  After that, Theo bowed his head at a small angle—an action not to apologize, but to confirm responsibility:

  "However, if because of that choice the captain judges me wrong, I will accept.

  I will correct the mistake with actual capability."

  Liam bit his lip hard, shoulders lowering from disappointment directed at himself. He looked at Theo not with surprise, but with affirming belief: "Of course you would come back. That's what either of us would do."

  What made Liam uncomfortable was the acknowledgment of failure in Theo's words.

  He blamed himself, face darkening. He had forced Theo—someone who always prioritized calculation and results—to sacrifice reason just because of his weakness in combat and escape speed. Vesper's accusation that "all of Liam's efforts to pin them down were useless" struck even harder at his self-respect.

  Liam's wounded hand clenched tight. Fresh blood seeped out, soaking the white bandage red, but he didn't feel pain. This physical pain was nothing compared to the humiliation burning his heart. Vowing before the dancing flames in his soul: 'There won't be a next time, Theo, there won't be a next time.' He would never let Theo have to make such a foolish choice again.

  Finn smiled broadly and nodded slowly, showing complete approval.

  Ryel and Ronan only exchanged a brief glance, a small frown from Ryel confirming he had accepted Theo's answer.

  Rowan couldn't suppress a sweet smile at Theo's cleverness—she leaned forward, interest clearly visible.

  Meanwhile, Boris and Torvin seemed unconcerned, but Boris's lips curled slightly, Torvin nodded his head lightly.

  Only Sable kept her body straight, face coldly expressionless, trying to show absolute concentration when listening to Vesper and Theo's dialogue. However, that mask was quickly betrayed.

  Her eyes blinked slower by one beat, as if the brain inside just encountered a data processing error. Then her head tilted lightly to one side just a few millimeters, exactly like a curious cat. A dazed look swept through her eyes amid the icy layer, Sable chose to maintain absolute silence, knowing any words uttered now would be a foolish question.

  Vesper kept silent a few more seconds. His gaze no longer carried contempt or anger, but deep assessment and consideration. He stared intently at Theo like an investor weighing the risks and profits of a deal.

  Finally, he nodded slightly—a small but decisive action.

  "A tactic that died halfway... Quite clever," Vesper muttered, voice gentler but still full of authority. He had accepted Theo's reasoning.

  Vesper leaned back, his gaze sweeping over Liam (who was bowing his head) then returning to Theo:

  "Listen here, Theo. In this world, loyalty is a luxury. It can be a burden that kills the whole team. But absolute reliability—someone who knows their teammate will never abandon them—is the most valuable asset to bring the whole team back after brutal missions."

  He tapped his finger lightly on the rock, looking straight at the two boys with seriousness but no longer venom:

  "I accept your foolishness, because I believe in the commitment you just placed on this feast table. Officially, you have passed the test."

  He turned to walk away, but the words left behind carried acceptance:

  "Next time, make sure your 'sword' is sharp enough not to break halfway. Dismissed."

  Liam jumped up, quickly stepping beside Theo. The two boys said nothing, just lightly bumped shoulders once—the firm shoulder bump of men. An unspoken promise was established between the dying embers: 'I will become the sharpest sword, I swear.'

  The feast finally came to an end.

  The campfire light had gradually faded, leaving only smoldering red coals radiating warmth and faint smell of burnt wood. The tension had passed, and the atmosphere became more relaxed but serious. Theo and Liam began clearing bowls and plates. Torvin and Boris—the two becoming surprisingly enthusiastic—also helped, their eyes looking at the two recruits full of affirmation and approval.

  Vesper watched that scene for a moment, then he stood up. His long shadow on the damp ground ended everything.

  "Sleep," Vesper ordered, voice decisive as the final command of the night.

  "Tomorrow, we return to Oakhaven. You'll have three days to prepare. That's the last time with family. Enjoy it."

  He paused, sharp gaze sweeping over Ryel—who was standing in darkness leaning against an oak tree—then stopping at Theo.

  "Ryel, you'll guard the first half of the night. That's punishment for being taken down by a recruit."

  Ryel nodded immediately, not objecting.

  "As for Theo, you guard the second half. That's the price for your foolishness in abandoning victory."

  All members silently nodded. Theo clearly felt exhaustion seeping into his marrow, but mixed with a sense of completion and belonging. He and Liam had passed through the door, and now they were officially part of this darkness and firelight.

  Theo had made a surprising move—reaching out to catch Sable as she stood preparing to leave. This sudden contact made the air around them freeze.

  Rowan, witnessing the entire event, burst into giggles. She put her hands on her hips, voice full of mischief and provocation:

  "What's this, young man? It won't be a confession, will it?"

  Sable tilted her head, large clear blue eyes looking at Rowan. Her appearance now seemed somewhat dazed—clearly she didn't understand Rowan's teasing intent.

  Theo reached out and lightly caught Sable's arm to stop her, eyes calmly looking straight at Rowan, as if her words had no effect on him. Then he turned to look at Sable. Only now, in this close and stable moment, could Theo clearly assess this warrior girl:

  Sable possessed a cold-sharp appearance, with a refined, angular face and large, clear blue eyes radiating youthfulness contrasting her demeanor. A small scar lying across her nose bridge didn't spoil her appearance at all—on the contrary, it added allure, making her gaze sharper and more determined. Jet-black hair, straight and smooth hanging down, contrasted powerfully with pale white skin. Her body was slender in form-fitting leather armor, but shoulders and arms revealed firm muscular lines—a body forged for speed and strength, radiating the flexible yet deadly aura of a true warrior.

  Theo looked straight at Sable, his eyes completely focused on her neck area. His voice was calm and cold-sharp, completely carrying no teasing intent:

  "Does your neck still hurt?"