After finishing his meditation, Hutson descended the stairs and indulged in a hot bath, washing away the thick, lingering scent of alchemical reagents that clung to his skin.
The Changing Atmosphere
When he stepped outside, he immediately noticed that Moonlight Woodland no longer felt the same.
The air was heavier, charged with unspoken tension. The faces of passing wizards bore traces of unease, their expressions hardened by worry and exhaustion.
He spotted more than a few injured figures—apprentices returning from battles they hadn't anticipated.
As he walked past the flea market, Hutson noticed something else—it was much quieter than usual.
"At a time like this, trade should be increasing, not slowing down… That means many have already accepted missions and fled Moonlight Woodland."
For the past few days, he had been completely focused on his ascension, paying little attention to the political turmoil unfolding around him.
