Lesson

The desert wind kicked up little swirls of sand as Korran, the big guy, stared Vell down. His crew fanned out behind him, weapons gleaming under the twin suns. They looked tough—leather armor patched with metal, swords and spears ready to go. The Desert Kings weren't playing around.

Vell didn't flinch.

He stood there, hands loose at his sides, his dagger still tucked away. His team stayed close, eyes sharp, waiting for his move. The air buzzed with tension, like a storm about to break.

"Your territory?" He said, keeping his voice calm but firm. "Last I checked, the tower doesn't care who claims what. We're just here to climb."

Korran smirked, resting his hand on the hilt of his curved sword. "Climbing's fine, kid. But you've been digging up medallions—stuff we've been after for weeks. That makes you a problem."

Ruby's tail twitched, and she stepped forward a bit, her bracers glowing faintly. "We found them fair and square! You don't own the desert."