The journey back toward the central hub of the Greenroot Guild was a quiet affair. The shadows of the Tigerwood Forest stretched long across the mossy ground as the master and disciple moved with the practised ease of predators.
Lazek walked with his hands tucked into the pockets of his grey coat, his expression a mask of familiar boredom.
Kale followed a step behind, his mind still repeating the lessons of the black crater. His muscles ached with a deep and satisfying heat, a testament to the Grandmaster's relentless physical corrections.
Every shift in his weight and every pivot of his heels felt sharper now, more grounded in the martial principles he had previously ignored.
Upon reaching the base, the bustle of the Greenroot Guild provided a stark contrast to the deathly silence of the chameleon pit. Tamers were hurrying between the massive leaves, their beasts acting as both mounts and heavy lifters.
