The map led us into a glade where light spilled like liquid gold. At its center, Spiritwood trees clustered around a crystalline pond, their roots drinking deep. From cracks in their bark oozed golden resin, shimmering like molten honey.
Appraisal nearly blinded me.
[Mana Resin – Extremely rare. Conductive stabilizer. Alchemical bonding agent. Market value: exorbitant.]
"Jackpot," I whispered reverently.
Lyra slapped a hand over my mouth. "Do not say that word here."
I pried her fingers off. "Lyra, do you understand what this resin is? This is industrial-grade magic epoxy. The duct tape of the gods!"
She gave me a look sharp enough to pierce armor. "One. Jar."
We worked carefully, filling a single vial. My hands trembled, not from fear but glee. Already, I imagined the stabilizers, the amplifiers, the possibilities.
Still, as the jar sealed, the whispers deepened. The air thickened, pressing against my skin like invisible hands.
Lyra's grip on my arm tightened. "Enough. Leave it."
I nodded quickly, though my bag held more than just resin now. A few Spiritwood splinters. Some enchanted moss. A handful of glittering ore chips. Nothing the forest would miss… right?
On the way out, Lyra muttered under her breath, "You'll burn down this continent one invention at a time."
"Not burn," I corrected cheerfully. "Maybe overload."
She didn't laugh.