The road out of Nursa stretched into rolling hills, dotted with trees and the occasional farmstead. The cart rattled along the uneven dirt path, Bol sitting stiffly on the driver's seat, muttering about the fragile crates. Laxyie walked beside it, eyes scanning the horizon.
After a while, he glanced down at the small figure struggling to keep pace behind the cart. "Hey kid," he said, voice low but commanding, "what's your name?"
The boy's eyes widened. "I… I'm Tyke," he stammered, finally answering.
Laxyie raised an eyebrow. "Tyke? Hah. That's… a very lame name."
The boy puffed out his chest. "Well… you were really cool the other day! When you saved the merchant!"
Laxyie snorted. "Yeah?"
"But… then you asked him for money! Totally ruined your coolness."
Without hesitation, Laxyie slapped him on the head. "Not everything is free, dumbass. And remember — I said, lame name."
The boy almost teared up. "Hey! You're… you're much lamer!"
Laxyie grunted, ignoring him as he kicked a loose stone down the road. Tyke huffed but stayed close, trailing stubbornly behind the cart.
The second day of the journey was quieter, but the road itself felt tense. Forests pressed in on either side, shadows stretching across the path. Laxyie's instincts were on high alert.
Suddenly, movement flickered in the trees ahead. Fifteen figures stepped into the open, surrounding the cart, weapons aiming at them ready to fire. Bandits.
An arrow whistled toward Bol. Laxyie reacted instantly, catching it just before it struck. "Get down! Hide inside the cart!" he shouted, yanking Bol and Tyke down.