The space inside the ring unfolded quietly.
The first thing he noticed again were the clothes.
Noble dresses, folded with care. Traveling sets. Formal wear. Maid uniforms layered beneath heavier cloaks and shawls. Everything was clean. Organized. Intentional.
Clearly both of the girls' clothes were stored in the ring.
Riven stared at them for a moment.
"…Right."
He shifted through the stacks anyway, ignoring the faint heat creeping into his ears. He was looking for something that wouldn't leave him shivering. Preferably more neutral clothes.
As he kept searching, he realized the unfortunate truth.
There were no men's clothes.
Of course there weren't.
But eventually, he found something that might work.
A sleeveless tunic, cut close to the body, more like a fitted inner layer than armor. Dark fabric—black softened with charcoal tones—worked with a faint, scale-like texture that only caught the light when he moved. The collar rose high around his neck, snug without choking, giving the piece a finished look despite the exposed shoulders.
It fit.
Well enough.
The trousers were unmistakably meant for a woman. The waist sat higher than he was used to, the cut narrower through the legs. On him, the excess fabric settled into soft folds rather than hanging loose.
It felt a bit weird, but it worked.
He flexed his shoulder once, testing the fit.
If someone looked closely, they might notice.
At a glance, he would pass.
That was all he needed.
Riven exhaled faintly.
He checked the space beside where the set had been again.
There was something else there.
A single shoulder piece—light, segmented, designed to fasten along one side of the tunic. It looked practical. The kind of addition meant to turn a simple garment into something closer to fieldwear.
Riven turned it over once.
With only one arm, there was no way he'd be able to secure it properly. The fastenings were small and precise.
He set it back down.
Then paused.
His gaze lingered on it a moment longer.
…He could fasten it.
If he transformed.
The thought settled, absurd and faintly satisfying.
He pictured it briefly—white hair, a second arm manifesting just long enough to tighten a strap, adjust a clasp. Not for battle. Not for survival.
Just to put on clothes.
The creator of the Dual Fate Seal would probably lose his mind if he knew.
Riven exhaled through his nose.
He liked that.
But the seal was still recovering.
He let the thought go for now and moved on.
His gaze drifted briefly to the far side of the space.
A folded splash of red lay there, separated from the rest.
Yue Lin's dress.
He didn't touch it. Just looked for a second. The fabric was still darkened in places, stiff where blood had soaked in and dried.
Beside it rested the amulet.
Riven reached out, hesitated, then nudged both deeper into the corner of the ring, away from the rest of the stored items. Not discarded. Just… set aside.
Safe.
He withdrew his hand and forced his attention back to the present.
Two beast cores caught his eye.
Golden.
He recognized them immediately.
The stags from the trial.
Useful.
Beyond that—halfmoon coins.
He couldn't be bothered to count them, because he saw something more interesting.
Spirit stones.
Those he counted.
Twenty-one.
"…They were rich."
After a short celebration his attention went elsewhere.
A folded tent and another blanket.
Several small bottles sat tucked beside them, sealed with wax and marked only by thin, coded lines. Pills, most likely. He recognized none of the markings and decided not to experiment for his own safety.
A small pouch nearby spilled open just enough to reveal brushes, powders, and thin glass vials. Makeup. He closed it again and pushed it aside, seeing no use for it.
Next to it was a thin booklet.
He opened it.
It was a nameless manual.
Not a cultivation technique—but instructions. Diagrams.
How to sense the mind as a space.
How to touch it early.
And how to improve it.
Riven's eyes moved faster as understanding settled in.
This was how they'd done it.
How they had opened the ring even with their low cultivation level.
He flipped through the manual again.
Even though he'd already opened his mind palace, this would be helpful to him too.
It promised an improvement in the users soul force.
He shelved it for now, deciding to practice it later.
There was one more thing he hadn't checked in the ring.
A folded piece of darkened paper lay tucked beneath the manual, edges worn soft as if it had been opened and refolded many times.
Riven had left the best for last.
He had a feeling he knew what it was.
The paper crackled softly as he unfolded it.
His eyes lit up.
It really was a map.
Not a schematic. Not a half-finished sketch.
A real one.
Then his gaze moved.
The brightness faded just as quickly.
The map didn't stretch far. It only covered the immediate surroundings. Cliffs, paths, the wind-carved gullies. He recognized the terrain almost at once.
It wasn't a route forward.
It was a record of where they'd been.
His eyes traced the markings again.
And then he saw it.
A simple mark.
An X.
Right where the pond was.
Riven's fingers tightened slightly on the paper.
"…Did they know?"
The question had no answer.
Maybe it meant nothing.
Or maybe—
He folded the map again before the thought could finish.
This wasn't helpful.
The paper slid back into the ring, tucked away safely.
He reached in once more and drew out the second blanket, thicker than the first.
That, at least, was uncomplicated.
Riven wrapped it around himself and leaned back against the stone, the chill finally easing enough to be tolerable. The cave was quiet now. Not tense. Not watchful.
Just empty.
His breathing slowed.
The day had taken everything it was going to take.
Tomorrow, he would depart for Verdance.
For now—
Sleep claimed him.
>>>
Morning broke thin and pale.
Riven left the cave shortly after, the light still weak enough that shadows stretched long across the ground. The forest felt different on the way back. Empty.
Without the scorpions, the land felt quieter—too quiet in places. No chittering. No distant movement beneath stone. Just wind brushing leaves together in low, restless patterns.
He wondered how long it'd take for the hills' other inhabitants to realize that the scorpions were gone.
As time passed and Riven left the Galecrag Hills behind, the seal recovered sometime after midday.
He felt it before he consciously checked.
His body stopped briefly beneath a stretch of rock where the wind cut less sharply and reached inward.
The transformation answered.
A second pulsed blended in beneath his heartbeat, quiet but present.
White bled into his hair. The second arm manifested cleanly, grey qi folding into shape without resistance.
He didn't test its strength.
Didn't draw the dagger.
Instead, he reached into the ring and pulled out the shoulder piece he'd left behind.
The fastenings clicked into place one by one beneath practiced fingers—hers. The segmented plate settled neatly along the tunic, locking in without shifting or pulling. When he rolled his shoulder, it moved with him, not against him.
Functional.
For a moment, he considered that if the transformation lasted longer, he could probably pass for a girl without much trouble.
The seal faded moments later, the arm unraveling as quietly as it had come.
Riven stood there a moment, dressed fully now.
A small smile grew on his face, replacing the darker look that had been ever present on his face since the trials.
Whoever had created the Dual Fate Seal would be furious if they knew what he used the skill for.
That thought carried him forward.
The Knight's Order girl's clothes held up well over distance. Tight enough to avoid snagging. Flexible enough that nothing pulled or resisted when he climbed, ducked, or cut through brush. The fabric breathed. Didn't trap heat. Didn't chafe.
He didn't have to think about them.
Which meant he could think about everything else.
His smile quickly faded again.
Some time passed and he reached a thick forest.
As he entered further into it, the trees grew wider and older, their roots breaking through the paths in deliberate patterns rather than wild sprawl.
Then the canopy shifted.
Light filtered differently. Softer. Touched by faint glows that didn't come from the sun.
Riven slowed.
Through the branches, he caught glimpses of shaped wood and suspended walkways winding upward around massive trunks. Lanterns hung like distant stars, swaying gently with the breeze.
A city grown within the forest.
Verdance.
It looked the same as before.
And yet, standing there alone, it felt smaller.
Not diminished.
Just… different.
Riven exhaled and stepped forward.
Back to civilization.