A tense silence fell over the group as they surveyed the island. The cheerful atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a wary focus. An army of eggs – dozens, perhaps hundreds – swarmed around the cottage, their weapons rudimentary but threatening.
"This is…" muttered Sarohan, his grip tightening around his axe. "This is a proper escort for such a little cottage."
"Indeed," Mister White's normally jovial expression was replaced by grim determination. "The one who left this memory was not only powerful but valued this place above all else. We must assume the same level of protection."
Arthur's eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. Each egg-creature was individually weak, but their sheer numbers made them a formidable force. A direct confrontation might damage the cottage and waste their time, and he refused to put his newfound comrades in unnecessary danger. He closed his eyes for a moment, the runes in his mind flickering to life.
