“Inside the Pentacarna Tower, time bows to us,” Jared explained, the firelight of resolve dancing across his face. “Every outside year becomes a century beneath its runic walls. We can hammer our strength a thousandfold, minute by stolen minute.”

“Then perhaps you should enter alone,” Flaxseed mused after a thoughtful pause. “The clearing seems quiet enough, yet without someone standing guard, a single scoundrel could undo us both.”

Flaxseed knew the tower’s legend well. One turn of the seasons outside equaled a full century within.

Cultivation there was not merely efficient; it was intoxicatingly fast. Yet if both of them vanished inside, even a petty thief might strike unchecked.

“Relax. The fire unicorn will stand watch.” No sooner had Jared spoken than a scarlet ember spiraled from his storage ring, unfurling into a miniature beast whose mane flickered like molten gold.

It had grown since its hatching, though still calf-sized, delicate hooves stamping the grass while sparks leaked from its nostrils.

Jared knelt, rubbing the creature’s warm forehead. “Little one, guard this place. Don’t let any mischief-maker get within scenting distance. Understood?”