The Legendary Mage (Alavin) novel Chapter 33

Not long after Alavin returned to Mount Eagle, the foraging teams began trickling back with evidently fruitful harvests and smiles brightening their faces. The Protégés tasked with protection had also snagged some spoils, dividing among themselves a few stalks of common Elixir Herbs.

No one paid much attention to Alavin, and he couldn't be bothered with them either. He sat by an iron bucket, nibbling on his hardtack, admiring the stunning vistas of the Cloudveil Woods.

By nightfall, eleven out of fifteen foraging teams had returned, but four were still missing, including Ogmundr and Nysah, who would never return.

Foraging was always accompanied by danger, and every Protégé was mentally prepared for it. Among the returning eleven teams, there were casualties: nine people had perished in the forest, their bodies never to be found.

"Nysah hasn't returned? Who was she grouped with?"

"I believe she was with Ogmundr."

"Lucky Ogmundr, foraging with a beauty by his side. I bet he's deliberately staying out longer. Every extra day is a blessing for him, ha!"

"Let's wait a bit longer; they should be back soon."

At night, atop the mountain, campfires blazed as the Botanic Haven Protégés gathered to tally each group's findings. They were on a mission, required to return with at least ten Advanced Elixir Herbs, preferably uprooted whole, and a minimum of a hundred ordinary Elixir Herbs and Elixir Fruits. Failing to meet the quota would result in punishment, while exceeding the quota promised special rewards.

The guardian Protégés sat together, laughing and chatting, enjoying a hearty dinner. A girl called out to Alavin with a grin, "Hey, Alavin, come sit with us?"

Half-asleep, Alavin cracked open an eye and shook his head before drifting back off.

"We're curious about how you broke through to Novice Mage rank, would you come and tell us? We’ll reward you with a chunk of meat,” another young man shouted to Alavin.

“Did you really reach Novice Mage Stage III? Fancy a friendly spar? I promise to go easy."

"Come on over, we'll make room for you."

"I'm quite intrigued by this lad. A young lord turned servant for eight years, that's some patience. What do you think—is he truly carefree or brooding with dark thoughts, and biding his time for revenge?"