[Leif's POV—Raventon Camp—Midnight Spark]
The wriggly cocoon pulsed in my hands like some fleshy little money bag from heaven.
Cedric hung off my back like a terrified cape. Roland stared at me, confused but patient. Zephyy snored somewhere in sleep behind us with zero awareness that his master was having a life-changing financial epiphany.
I held the cocoon up to the firelight.
The glow hit its surface—A soft sheen spread across the silken fibers.
Not dull.
Not ordinary.
Not just silk.
But Spirit-Silk.
My pulse spiked. My brain short-circuited. My wallet did a full gospel choir performance.
"Oh my gods," I whispered. "This is… THIS IS MONEY."
Cedric flinched. "I—Is it dangerous money?"
"NO." I clutched it like it was a newborn child. "It's BEAUTIFUL money. Precious money. Rare money. The type of money that makes kingdoms kneel."
Roland blinked slowly. "…My lord, should I be scared?"
"Yes," I said. "But not of the cocoon."
