The morning sun glinted off the guildhall's roof as JP walked into the village square, pack light on his shoulder. He had already decided: it was time to leave for the city. Too much attention, too many risks. He just needed supplies, coin exchange, and a quiet exit.
But the square wasn't quiet.
A crowd had gathered. In the center, the three merchants stood smugly beside a table of broken goods—lanterns, scoops, water pouches—all crushed or charred.
"This outsider!" the bearded merchant bellowed, pointing at JP as he stepped into view. "He sells us trash. Faulty tools. Dangerous tricks! Look at the damage he's caused!"
Gasps rippled through the villagers.
JP froze, then spotted the truth—every "broken" item bore clean cuts, deliberate sabotage. The merchants had destroyed them. His blood ran hot.
"Lies," JP said, voice low but sharp. "You broke those yourselves."
The thinner merchant sneered. "And who will they believe? Us, their long-standing trade partners—or an outsider who hides on the edge of town?"
The crowd murmured. Doubt spread. JP's chest tightened. All his work, his trust, could collapse in an instant.
Then Lyra stepped forward, pulling her hood low. "Prove it," she said coldly. "If his goods are faulty, show us."
The bearded merchant smirked. "Gladly." He grabbed one of JP's glow-pouches, smashing it against the table. The light flickered weakly, its crystal cracked. "See? Dangerous—"
But JP raised his hand. His new skill hummed to life.
Pulse Craft Activated.
The pouch flared back to life, brighter than before, as JP poured energy into it. The villagers gasped as light spread across the square.
"That's no trick," JP said firmly. "That's the power of invention. My work doesn't fail—you sabotaged it."
Murmurs turned into shouts. Farmers who had used his tools stepped forward. "My irrigation's never flowed better." "His lamps work fine." "You're lying!"
The merchants' faces twisted. The bearded one raised a hand as if to rally the crowd again—but Lyra's blade slid free just enough for the metal to glint. The unspoken threat silenced him.
Defeated, the merchants slunk away, their grip over the village broken.
That evening, JP packed quietly at his camp. A new tent, fresh food supplies, water pouches—all bought with the last of his coin. He stared at the glow of his Pulse Stakes one final time, then dismantled them.
The guild clerk who handed him his travel papers gave him a wary look. "You've stirred up a storm here, outsider. See that it doesn't follow you to the city."
JP gave a crooked smile. "Storms follow electricians. Comes with the job."
Lyra chuckled softly at his side as they stepped onto the road. Behind them, the village settled back into uneasy peace. Ahead, the city loomed like a spark waiting to ignite.
The next chapter of their journey had begun.