Poll and the others exchanged glances, the weight of the mission hanging heavy in the silence of the forest. The air seemed to thicken around them as they prepared to move forward, each step accompanied by the ominous crunch of leaves underfoot. 

As they trudged through the dense woods, Poll found his thoughts drifting inward. How do I cast my first spell? he wondered, staring at his small hands as if they might unveil the secrets of magic. His fingers twitched, tingling faintly with energy, but a shadow of doubt crept into his heart. Were these hands capable of shaping the forces he'd read about in his books? The idea both excited and terrified him, sending a flutter of nervous energy coursing through his chest. Should I experiment? Or... His mind turned to the intricate diagrams and precise instructions he'd studied. Maybe I should just follow the steps exactly as I learned them... 

"Ugh... whatever happens, I'll figure it out when the time comes," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head clear of doubt. 

Before they reached the rocky area, Eryndor raised a hand, halting the group with a silent signal. "We need to prepare the traps for the nightwolves," he said, his tone firm yet instructive. His sharp eyes turned to Kaida. "Kaida, explain how we lure the nightwolves into the trap." 

Kaida straightened up, her confident posture exuding readiness. "Yes, sir! We'll need the flower of the brown berry shrub and some meat from a small animal. The scent of the flower mixed with the meat attracts nightwolves." 

Eryndor nodded approvingly. "Good. So, where are the flower and the meat?" 

Kaida smiled, reaching into her satchel. "Right here, sir. I picked them up along the way." She revealed a small bundle of deep purple flowers and a carefully wrapped piece of raw meat, both neatly prepared. 

Poll watched with a mix of admiration and envy as Kaida's foresight and skill came to light. Lira and Elowen echoed his awe with hushed exclamations of amazement. 

Eryndor allowed a proud smile to grace his lips. "Well done. Let’s set the traps and be ready." 

As Eryndor and Kaida worked in seamless coordination, Poll couldn't help but marvel. Wow, those two are really in sync. I’d love to see them in combat, he mused, imagining the fluidity of their teamwork in battle. His thoughts drifted back to the teachings in his books. According to what I've read, a medium like a staff is essential for safe spellcasting. If I try anything too dangerous without one, my hands could be damaged. And Magical stones in staves amplify mana... 

A sudden commotion caught his attention, pulling his focus away from the group. Slowly, he walked toward the source of the disturbance,, chilling sight snapped Poll out of his reverie. Scattered across the forest floor were the twisted, lifeless bodies of nightwolves and ordinary wolves. The air carried a faint metallic tang of blood, mingled with the damp, earthy scent of the woods. Each body lay motionless, fur matted and stained, their jagged wounds telling a grim tale of brutal violence. Poll’s stomach churned as he noticed the expressions frozen on their faces—snarls of rage and fear that spoke of desperate, savage struggles. 

His heart skipped a beat. Wait... what is this? 

He stepped closer, his breath catching in his throat. It was unmistakable: these wolves had been killing each other. The jagged wounds on their bodies could only have been inflicted by their own sharp fangs. 

A chill crept down Poll’s spine. What could have caused this? 

A sense of unease settled over him, heavier than the damp forest air. Something was wrong—terribly, dangerously wrong. 

"Father... you have to see this," Poll whispered, his voice barely carrying over the rustling leaves. 

Eryndor’s sharp gaze followed Poll’s, landing on the gruesome scene before them. His eyes narrowed, scanning the twisted bodies of the wolves. Stepping forward, he knelt beside one of the carcasses, his experienced hands brushing over the lifeless fur. 

A deep frown etched across his face as he examined the jagged wounds. This isn’t a normal hunt or territorial fight. These creatures turned on each other, he deduced, piecing together the grim evidence. His fingers hovered near faint traces of mana lingering in the air—dark, unstable, and unsettlingly unnatural. 

[Mana Corruption] 

***