After days of training (or what technically counted as training), Kain finally stepped back, arms crossed, staring at Bam.
"…I don't believe this," Kain muttered.
Bam flexed his fingers, watching small flames dance on his palm—controlled, precise, and not immediately setting random objects on fire.
Bob clapped his hands. "See? We fixed him!"
Derek rubbed his temples. "I wouldn't call it fixed… but at least he won't accidentally incinerate us anymore."
Jim grinned. "So he's finally a proper mage?"
Kain sighed. "He's… better."
Bam nodded, staring at the fire in his palm. "I miss the chaos."
Kain groaned. "I don't."
Marcus adjusted his crossbow. "Alright, now that Bam won't destroy our side, let's go round two with the orcs."
Bob cracked his knuckles. "And this time, we win!"
Jim took a sip of ale. "Or we die trying."
Bam smiled. "There are always exceptions."
And with that, they charged back toward the orc warband.
The orcs, unsurprisingly, were not happy to see them again.
The moment the mercenaries entered the camp, battle erupted.
Bob bashed through the first wave of orcs with his shield, knocking several warriors aside like bowling pins.
Derek parried a greataxe, then countered with a precise strike, forcing his opponent back.
Jim dodged an incoming club and delivered a devastating punch to an orc's gut—only for the orc to shrug it off and try to bodyslam him.
Marcus fired a bolt, this time aiming for weak spots(of course, it was the head), actually taking down a few enemies.
Then—
BOOM!
A massive pillar of fire erupted in the middle of the battlefield.
Everyone—including the orcs—turned to look at Bam, who stood with his hands raised, fire swirling perfectly controlled around his fingers.
"Arise," Bam shouted.
Kain, casting an ice spell nearby, almost dropped his staff.
Bob cheered. "IT'S WORKING! HE'S NOT COMPLETELY USELESS!"
Jim whistled. "Look at him! He's actually doing mage things!"
Bam smirked, flinging a precise fireball that exploded exactly where he wanted—setting only the orcs' supply cart on fire instead of everything else around it.
The orcs stared in horror.
One of them muttered, "…That's worse than last time."
The orc shaman, an elderly orc covered in ritual markings and robes, suddenly raised both hands.
"STOP!" he bellowed.
The battlefield froze.
Even the mercenaries paused mid-fight, looking around in confusion.
The shaman exhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead. "If this continues, this will only lead to more chaos and destruction."
Bob blinked. "Uh… yeah? That was kinda the plan."
The shaman glared. "What do you want?"
Derek dusted himself off. "We're here for the Arcane Eye."
The orcs exchanged glances.
The shaman muttered, "Of course you are."
Jim crossed his arms. "So, do we keep fighting, or are you gonna hand it over?"
The shaman sighed.
And thus, negotiations began.