Ren woke up to pain.
Not the sharp, blinding kind—but the heavy, stubborn pain that told him his body had been pushed far past its limit. His chest rose with difficulty, every breath shallow, his limbs numb and unresponsive.
Cold stone pressed against his back.
Wind brushed his face.
He opened his eyes.
Above him was a pale sky, broken by drifting clouds. No ceiling. No buildings. No Tokyo.
For a moment, his mind betrayed him.
He remembered rain on asphalt.
Long nights.
A worn body that never recovered, no matter how much he rested.
He remembered being twenty-seven—old enough to understand his own weakness, old enough to hate it.
How he worked tirelessly for his selfish female boss and still never had nothing.
How he worked for 20 hours using the remaining 3 to sleep.
Ren squeezed his eyes shut.
My life was a mess but not anymore.
"This isn't Tokyo," he muttered hoarsely.
The memory faded, leaving behind only the ache in his body and the faint burn of exhausted mana.
Reality settled in.
He tried to sit up.
His body refused.
A sharp gasp escaped him as his muscles locked, pain spreading through his chest and arms. He collapsed back onto the stone, heart pounding.
Alive.
That much was clear.
"Lira…?" he called weakly.
No answer.
"Kian?"
Silence answered again, and unease crept in—but before panic could take hold, soft footsteps approached.
Two figures appeared from behind a cluster of rocks.
Lira froze when she saw Ren's eyes open.
"Kian," she whispered urgently.
The boy stepped forward, sword still strapped to his back, his head wrapped with a rough bandage. His face looked pale, but his posture was steady.
"You're awake," Kian said. Relief slipped into his voice before he could hide it.
Ren let out a slow breath. "Looks like it."
Lira hurried over and crouched beside him, pressing a waterskin to his lips. "Drink. Slowly."
Ren obeyed. The cold water helped clear the fog in his head.
"You've been out for a while," she said. "About an hour."
"That long…" Ren murmured.
"You burned through all your mana," Kian added. "And then some."
Ren didn't argue. He remembered the fall—grabbing them midair, forcing ice and wind to obey when his body was already screaming to stop.
Lira reached behind her and brought out food wrapped in leaves—simple grilled meat and vegetables.
"We hunted while you were unconscious," she said. "Didn't want to waste time."
Ren managed a weak smile. "Good thinking."
With their help, he sat up, leaning against a rock. Eating hurt—his body protested every movement—but hunger won. Warmth slowly spread through his chest as strength returned in small amounts.
For a while, none of them spoke.
Then Kian broke the silence. "That tree… it wasn't a normal monster."
"No," Ren said quietly. "Something close to a guardian."
Lira swallowed. "We were lucky to escape."
Ren didn't correct her.
Luck had played a part—but instinct had too. Something inside him had reacted before thought, before fear. He didn't fully understand it yet.
After they finished eating, Kian glanced at Ren. "You mentioned points earlier."
Ren nodded and summoned his status panel.
His eyes narrowed.
"Four thousand and ten."
Lira leaned in. "What?"
Ren showed them.
She checked hers immediately. "Eight hundred."
Kian followed. "Nine hundred and thirty."
The difference was obvious.
Ren closed the panel. "I fought stronger monsters. That's all."
"And nearly got yourself killed," Lira said bluntly.
"That too."
Kian exhaled slowly. "Then we stick together. We recover tonight and move as a group."
Ren nodded. "No rushing. We only fight when we have to."
The wind picked up, carrying distant sounds—roars and movement far beyond the mountain ridge.
The trial wasn't waiting for them.
Ren leaned his head back against the stone, eyes half-closed.
He wasn't in Tokyo anymore.
He wasn't twenty-seven and helpless.
But the memory of that weakness remained—and this time, he wouldn't run from it.
"I won't fall again," he said quietly.
Neither of the others spoke, but they stayed close as the light slowly shifted, the mountain standing silent around them.