Frustration gnawed at Luke, but Anya's fiery spirit mirrored his own resolve.
"Alright," she said, her voice ringing with determination, "we train until our arms fall off. We show that guardian we're not here for riddles, we're here for a fight."
Gareth, ever the strategist, surveyed the clearing. "This place...it hums with latent magic. Perhaps it can be of use."
Intrigued, Luke approached the ancient oak, its gnarled bark cool to the touch. He closed his eyes, focusing on the strange energy he'd felt earlier. It wasn't like the raw power of his silver aura, but something more subtle, a constant thrumming like a heartbeat.
"Maybe the Guardian isn't just a person," Anya mused, her voice hushed. "Maybe it's this very forest."
