The last goblin fell without ceremony.
No final rush. No desperate charge.
Just a body hitting the ground—then another—and then nothing.
Silence followed. Not immediate. It crept in, slowly replacing the noise. Screeches fading. Movement stopping. The forest settling back into itself.
Viole didn't lower his guard.
Not yet.
His breathing was heavier now. Not uncontrolled—but present. Measured inhales. Controlled exhales. For someone at his level, this wasn't strain.
Just exertion.
A warm-up.
Around him, the ground told a different story.
Scattered bodies. Burn marks. Broken weapons. The aftermath of fifty uncoordinated lives ending in a place they shouldn't have left.
Kiran stood a few steps ahead, shoulders rising and falling more visibly. His stance was still up—but barely. His clothes had shallow cuts, fabric torn in places where blades had grazed past.
Behind him, Eira leaned slightly on her staff, trying to steady her breathing. Luna was worse off in a different way—no visible injuries, but her hands trembled faintly from overuse. Mana depletion.
They held.
But just barely.
Viole glanced upward.
"Rath."
A beat.
"Scout."
No wasted words.
From above, a shift of movement. Leaves rustled as Rath repositioned, then moved higher, faster this time—less cautious, more direct.
Silence returned.
Viole exhaled once, slower.
Then he turned.
"Rest."
Simple. Direct.
No argument in it.
Kiran hesitated. "…What about—"
"I'll watch."
That was enough.
Kiran didn't argue again. He lowered his sword—just slightly—and stepped back. Not fully relaxed, but no longer at the edge.
Eira sat down where she stood, not even trying to hide it. Luna followed more carefully, lowering herself while keeping her staff close.
Viole remained where he was.
Standing.
Watching.
His gaze moved across the treeline. Then the cave. Then back again. No gaps. No blind spots.
Nothing moved.
But that didn't mean anything.
I remembered it.
That moment yesterday.
No warning. No buildup.
Just—
there.
A presence. A shift. Something that didn't belong.
He felt it too.
Not now.
But the possibility lingered.
That was enough.
Minutes passed.
Short.
Quiet.
Then—
Movement above.
Rath dropped down from the tree line, landing lightly despite the fatigue creeping into her posture.
"All clear!" she called out, then steadied her breath. "No movement. No stragglers. Just the cave."
Just the cave.
Viole nodded once.
His gaze shifted briefly toward the sun.
Higher now.
Noon.
That lined up.
They cleared the settlement faster than expected—but not without cost.
He looked back at them.
All four.
Tired. Drained. But standing.
Functional.
For now.
"Potions."
The word caught their attention immediately.
"Did the Guild issue your daily allotment?"
Kiran blinked. "…Yeah. One mana, one low heal."
The others nodded in agreement.
Good.
"At registration," Viole said, voice even, "you get one mana potion and one low healing potion per day."
A brief pause.
"For a week."
Basic support.
Enough to keep new adventurers alive—if they used it properly.
"Drink the mana potion."
Eira looked at him, surprised. "Now?"
"Yes."
No hesitation.
"There shouldn't be any strays nearby," he continued, gaze flicking once toward the treeline, "but that doesn't mean there aren't."
That moment surfaced again.
Uninvited.
That thing from yesterday.
The one that didn't follow patterns. Didn't announce itself.
Just appeared.
Right where it shouldn't be.
Unpredictable.
That was worse than numbers.
I felt the thought settle in.
So did he.
"Especially you two."
His gaze landed on Eira, then Luna.
"We're heading back."
They stiffened slightly.
"We'll Rest. Eat. Then call for reinforcements."
A beat.
"For the cave."
Understanding followed quickly.
Luna nodded first. "…And the captives."
"Yes."
Simple.
Direct.
No promise attached to it.
Eira hesitated for a moment, then pulled out the small vial from her pouch. The liquid inside shimmered faintly.
"…Right."
One by one, they followed.
Corks loosened. Glass tilted.
They drank.
Viole watched them.
Not impatient.
Not relaxed.
Just—
waiting.
Because this wasn't over.
Not even close.
The sealed cave remained.
And whatever was inside it—
was still there.
The walk back was quieter.
No urgency. No pressure. Just the steady rhythm of boots against dirt, the weight of fatigue settling in now that the fight was over.
No one spoke much.
They didn't need to.
The city came into view gradually—stone walls, familiar gates, the low hum of movement growing louder with each step.
Alive. Safe.
For now.
—
The Adventurer's Guild was as busy as usual.
Voices layered over each other. Chairs scraping. Glass clinking. The constant movement of people coming and going.
Viole didn't linger.
He went straight to the counter.
"Submission."
Liora looked up immediately. Recognition came first—then that familiar shift in her expression.
"Oh? Back already?" Her tone carried a light curiosity, but her hands were already moving. "Let's see…"
He placed the parchment down, along with the herbs he had gathered. Neatly bundled. Efficient.
At first glance—
correct.
Liora picked them up one by one, checking with practiced ease.
A pause.
Then another.
Her hand stopped.
"…You really don't change, do you?"
Viole didn't respond.
She held up one of the bundles.
"This one isn't part of the commission."
Another.
"And this is just a weed."
She set them aside, separating them cleanly from the actual materials.
"And this—" she glanced at another piece, "—also not needed."
A soft sigh escaped her, though there was no real frustration behind it.
"You gathered the right ones," she admitted, "but you also picked up everything around them."
A brief glance at him.
"You're still bad at this."
Flat. Casual.
Familiar.
Viole didn't argue.
Didn't defend himself.
Because she wasn't wrong.
"…As long as it's complete."
"It is," she said, already marking the parchment. "You just make extra work for me."
She finished sorting, then set the correct materials aside and prepared the reward for the completed commission.
"Ten copper coins. Ten points."
"Now—what about the goblin settlement?"
"Cleared."
No hesitation. Still, the adventurer rank system is point based, huh?
"But there's a cave."
Her expression shifted slightly. More focused now.
"Of course there is."
"We'll need reinforcements," Viole continued. "E-rank. D-rank if available."
A brief pause.
"If anyone's willing."
Liora nodded slowly, already considering it.
"I'll put it up."
Viole turned slightly, already done.
"Do it while we rest."
Not a request.
Then he walked away.
—
Across the room, the others had already settled into the tavern area.
Not far. Just off to the side.
Far enough from the main crowd to breathe.
A waitress approached them with a tray, setting down simple glasses of water.
"Here you go."
They thanked her—quiet, tired voices.
No energy for anything else.
The Guild covered potions.
Not meals.
That part was on them.
Kiran and the others reached into their packs, pulling out a small bundle. Cloth-wrapped. Worn.
Jerky.
Hard bread.
Simple.
Preserved.
The kind meant to last.
Not the kind meant to be eaten casually.
Viole noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
He had already taken his seat in the corner—same as always. Away from the noise. Away from people.
His bag rested beside him.
He opened it.
Five sandwiches.
Prepared earlier. Clean. Practical.
He picked one up and took a bite.
Then—
Paused.
His gaze shifted.
Back to them.
They were already eating.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Not because they wanted to savor it.
Because that's how you eat when you know it has to last.
I watched.
Then—
A thought surfaced.
That's not sustainable.
Fuel, yes.
But wrong timing.
Jerky and hard bread were meant for when you had no choice.
When fresh food wasn't an option.
When things went bad.
If they used it now—
They'd have nothing when it mattered.
Viole exhaled quietly.
A small sigh.
Barely noticeable.
And yet—
he stood.
…Huh.
I watched him walk over, sandwich still in hand.
No announcement. No buildup.
Just—
movement.
The four of them looked up as he approached.
Confused.
He stopped in front of them.
Then placed the remaining sandwiches down.
Four.
One for each.
Kiran blinked. "…Huh?"
"Eat those."
Simple.
Direct.
No explanation—at first.
They hesitated.
Of course they did.
"It's fresh," Viole added, tone unchanged. "Eat it now."
A brief pause.
"Save those."
A slight tilt of his head toward their rations.
"For when you need them."
Understanding came slowly.
Then all at once.
Eira looked down at the sandwich in front of her.
"…Are you sure?"
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No room to refuse.
Luna lowered her gaze slightly. "…Thank you."
Kiran scratched the back of his head, awkward.
"…Thanks."
Rath didn't say anything.
She just grinned slightly and picked hers up immediately.
Practical.
Good.
Viole didn't stay.
Didn't wait.
He turned and walked back to his seat like it was nothing.
Like it didn't matter.
I watched him sit down.
Pick up his sandwich.
Take another bite.
…
Huh.
So this guy has a heart too.
Didn't see that coming.
Cold. Detached. Talks like he's reading off a report—
and yet here we are.
Interesting.
—
He glanced up briefly.
Toward the counter.
Liora was already looking at him.
Of course she was.
And she was smiling.
Not subtle.
Not polite.
That same teasing smile.
The kind that says I saw that.
Viole met her gaze.
And gave her a look.
Flat.
Disdaining.
Unimpressed.
She didn't stop smiling.
If anything—
it widened slightly.
Of course it did.
She's known him long enough.
Long enough to recognize that wasn't new.
Just something he didn't show often.
Viole looked away first.
Not because he lost.
Because it wasn't worth engaging.
But he knew.
Exactly why she was smiling like that.
Viole didn't move for a while after eating.
Back against the chair. Eyes closed. Breathing steady.
Not asleep.
Just… quiet.
Letting his body settle. Letting the fatigue pass through instead of fighting it.
Minutes.
Short.
Enough.
Then he opened his eyes.
Stood.
And walked back to them.
"Check your losses."
Kiran looked up, confused. "…Losses?"
"Resources," Viole clarified, voice even. "Not just potions."
A brief pause.
"Mana. Stamina. Equipment."
That shifted their focus.
"Your mana should be mostly recovered," he continued, glancing at Eira and Luna. "Potion plus rest."
They nodded slowly, already checking themselves.
"Confirm it."
No assumptions.
Only verification.
Then—
"Rath."
She straightened slightly.
"Arrows."
She blinked, then reached back instinctively, checking her quiver.
"…I used a lot."
"Count."
She did. Quick. Efficient.
"…Less than half left."
Viole nodded once.
"Then recover."
A slight tilt of his head toward the exit.
"Settlement's cleared. Pull them from the bodies."
Reuse.
Practical.
No waste.
Rath nodded. "…Got it."
"Kiran."
He looked up immediately.
"Sword."
Kiran glanced down at it, then ran his thumb lightly along the flat of the blade. Not the edge.
Checking.
"…Some nicks."
"Still usable?"
A pause.
"…Yeah."
"Then it's fine."
Simple.
No need to complicate it.
"If it chips further, you replace it."
Kiran nodded, firmer this time.
Viole's gaze passed over the group once more.
"Rest a bit longer."
A beat.
"We still need reinforcements."
His eyes lingered briefly on Eira and Luna.
"Every bit counts."
Especially for them.
Then he turned.
—
The Guild doors opened again just as he approached the counter.
Liora stepped in, brushing a strand of hair back as she walked in. No rush. No urgency. Just the natural pace of someone returning from a break.
She always ate outside.
The restaurant across the street.
Better food.
The Guild's tavern wasn't built for that.
Viole waited.
Didn't call out. Didn't interrupt.
Just stood there.
The others followed behind him, naturally falling into place without being told.
Liora stepped behind the counter, adjusted a few things, then finally looked up.
Their eyes met.
A small smile formed.
There it is again.
"Back already?" she said lightly, settling into place. "Or did you miss me?"
Viole didn't respond.
"Reinforcements."
Straight to it.
Of course.
Liora didn't answer immediately. She took a moment, shifting into her usual rhythm, organizing a few papers before speaking.
Then—
"I asked around."
A pause.
"And they all refused."
Kiran blinked. "…All of them?"
Liora exhaled softly, then leaned slightly onto the counter.
"Oh, not quietly either."
Her tone shifted—lighter.
Teasing.
She raised a hand slightly, as if counting them off.
"First party I asked—" her voice changed, a rougher imitation, "—'Wait, Viole's in it? Then what do you need us for?'"
A second finger.
"Another one said—" a different tone, more casual, "—'He can handle it. Guy clears nests like it's nothing.'"
A third.
"Then there was this one—my favorite—" she smirked slightly, voice lowering, "'If Viole is there and it's just a cave left, then the goblins should be the one requesting reinforcements.'"
A fourth.
"'Not worth splitting the reward when Viole's already doing the work.'"
And finally—
"'If Viole's in it, then the goblins need the saving.'"
She dropped the act, looking back at him with that same knowing expression.
No malice.
Just—
acknowledgment.
Rath tilted her head slightly, looking between them.
"…Why?"
Liora blinked. "Hm?"
Direct.
Bold.
Good question.
Liora hummed softly, considering how to answer.
"He stands out." she said.
Her gaze shifted to Viole briefly before returning to them.
"Not because he's a loner."
A pause.
"Because he shouldn't still be Silver."
That caught them.
Kiran frowned. "…What do you mean?"
"For Copper to Gold ranks," Liora explained, resting her arms lightly on the counter, "advancement is point-based."
Structured. Clear.
"Every completed commission gives money and points. The harder the job, the higher the points."
She gestured lightly.
"Gathering quests depend on rarity. Extermination and elimination vary."
Then—
"That goblin settlement you cleared?"
She looked at them.
"Twenty points."
Eira blinked. "…Only twenty?"
"Yes."
Flat.
"Copper to Iron requires one hundred."
A brief pause.
"Iron to Silver requires two hundred, then Silver to Gold requires three hundred."
A paused, then she continued.
"It is meant to familiarize and provide experience for newbie adventurers for the future."
Understanding started to form.
Slow.
Piece by piece.
Liora continued.
"Viole has the skill," she said simply. "More than enough."
Her eyes flicked to him again.
"Class proficiency. Combat ability. Decision-making."
A beat.
"All there."
Then—
"He's just bad at gathering quests."
A faint smile tugged at her lips.
"And because of that—"
Her tone softened slightly.
"He avoids them and extermination quest are quite hard to come by as well."
No denial came.
None.
"Instead," she continued, "he takes extermination requests alone."
A pause.
"He succeeds most of the time."
Another.
"But he comes back injured."
Silence settled over the group.
They looked at him.
Kiran. Eira. Luna. Rath.
Waiting.
Expecting something.
A reaction.
A denial.
Anything.
Viole gave them none of it.
He just looked at Liora.
Not annoyed.
Not defensive.
Just—
resigned.
Because he knew.
This wasn't her exposing him.
This was—
her worrying.
In her own way.
Liora exhaled softly, then continued.
"That only applies up to Gold rank."
Her tone shifted slightly. More serious.
"Platinum is different."
A pause.
"No more points."
"Then how—?" Rath started.
"Dungeons," Liora said simply.
That word alone carried weight.
"More dangerous. Less predictable."
A brief silence followed.
Then—
Viole spoke.
Cutting through it.
"So you didn't find anyone?"
Direct.
Back to the point.
No interest in the rest.
Liora looked at him for a moment.
Then—
"Yes."
Simple.
Honest.
No one was coming.
Which meant—
this was on them.
He let out another deep breath.
"No one."
The answer settled in.
Viole exhaled once. Quiet. Controlled.
"…Fine."
It didn't sound frustrated.
Just expected.
Because it was.
He could clear the cave on his own. That much was obvious. The others knew it. The Guild knew it.
But that wasn't the point.
Not this time.
They were watching.
Learning.
And there was still that variable.
That thing from yesterday.
Unreported. Unseen by others. No mention from the Guild. No rumors from adventurers.
Which meant—
either it was rare…
or it only became a problem when you weren't ready.
He had been caught off guard once.
That wasn't happening again.
Viole turned slightly.
"We're heading out."
Liora didn't stop him.
Didn't argue.
Just watched as they left.
—
The road back felt shorter.
Less tension. More purpose.
Viole walked ahead, not rushing, not slowing.
Then—
"Mana."
Eira and Luna looked up.
"Status."
Eira nodded first. "…Recovered enough."
Luna followed. "I can still cast. Not full, but stable."
"Good."
That was enough.
Then—
"Rath."
She straightened.
"Recover arrows."
A nod. "Got it."
No wasted movement.
They continued.
—
The settlement came into view.
Unchanged.
Still. Quiet. Empty.
The aftermath remained, but the danger—
uncertain.
Rath moved off immediately, scanning, retrieving what she could from fallen bodies. Efficient. Focused.
The others gathered near the cave.
The entrance remained sealed. Rubble packed tight from the earlier explosion. No movement. No sound.
Viole stepped forward.
"Eira."
She readied herself instinctively.
"Clear it."
A brief pause.
"Explosion. Then wind."
She nodded.
"Understood."
"Remove the rubble," Viole continued. "Control the dust."
Visibility mattered.
Inside or out.
"Formation."
The others shifted into place without being told twice.
Weapons ready.
Positions set.
Viole's gaze remained on the cave.
"Be ready."
A beat.
"They could be waiting."
Or already moving.
Eira inhaled.
Then—
released.
—
The explosion tore through the rubble. Stone cracked. Dust surged outward—
—but before it could spread—
wind followed.
Controlled. Directed.
The cloud dispersed, pushed aside before it could blind them.
The entrance cleared.
Open.
And—
quiet.
No movement.
No sound.
No rush of goblins.
Nothing.
Viole didn't relax.
He stepped forward slightly, observing.
Listening.
Still nothing.
Which meant—
"Gas."
Simple.
Expected.
He sheathed his katana, replacing it with his daggers. Short blades. Better for tight spaces.
He turned slightly.
"Hold formation."
A brief pause.
"Engage when I exit."
No questions.
No hesitation.
He stepped into the cave.
Darkness swallowed us quickly, the light from outside thinning with every step. The torchlight behind us didn't reach this far yet—only a dim glow at our back, fading.
The air was heavier inside.
Damp. Still.
No movement.
No sound.
That was the first thing that felt wrong.
Viole didn't slow.
Each step was controlled. Measured. The ground shifted slightly beneath his boots—loose stone, uneven surface—but nothing that threw him off.
I felt it all. The weight. The balance. The awareness.
Then—
the cave opened.
Not wide.
But enough.
And split.
Two paths.
Left.
Right.
Both dark. Both silent.
No immediate signs of movement from either.
Viole stopped.
Not hesitation.
Assessment.
Pushing deeper—
was a risk.
Too many blind spots. Too many angles. Too much space for something to be waiting.
Unnecessary.
His hand moved.
Bombs.
Five.
He pulled two.
Efficient.
No wasted motion.
A flick—
ignition.
A faint hiss followed. Subtle. Controlled.
One in each hand.
No delay.
He stepped forward just enough—distance calculated, angle considered—
then threw.
Left.
Right.
Both disappeared into the dark.
A beat.
Then—
he turned.
And ran.
No hesitation.
No looking back.
Just distance.
Light returned quickly as he pushed out of the cave, boots striking stone, then dirt—
Then—
behind us—
two muffled bursts.
Not loud.
But heavy.
Contained.
Gas.
Spreading through both paths.
Filling the space we didn't need to enter.
Viole didn't stop until he cleared the entrance completely.
Then he turned.
Back into position.
They waited.
One second.
Two.
Five.
Ten.
Nothing came out.
No scrambling.
No coughing.
No movement.
Just—
silence.
Viole watched the entrance a moment longer.
Then—
"…Clear."
Kiran frowned slightly. "…That's it?"
"No goblins."
Flat.
Definitive.
"Then we don't go in."
Logical.
Efficient.
No unnecessary risk.
But—
Kiran hesitated.
Then spoke.
"…Shouldn't we check?"
Viole's gaze shifted to him.
"They might not have been inside," Kiran continued, more firmly now. "What if the ones outside were all of them?"
A pause.
"And the captives… could still be in there."
Silence.
It wasn't wrong.
"If nothing came out," Kiran added, "then it's safe… right?"
Not entirely.
But—
reasonable.
Viole held his gaze for a moment longer.
Then exhaled quietly.
"Fine…We check."
Reluctant.
But decided.
He stepped forward again, adjusting his grip slightly.
"Formation changes."
The others straightened immediately.
"Single line."
Clear. Direct.
"I lead."
He reached for a torch, lighting it with practiced ease. Flame steadied.
"Kiran behind me."
A beat.
"Then Luna. Eira."
Central support.
"Rath."
She looked up.
"Rear."
He handed her another torch.
"Watch our back."
She nodded.
"Hold formation at all times."
No breaks. No gaps.
Then—
"Kiran."
He focused.
"No wide swings."
A brief pause.
"You stab."
Direct.
"Use your blade to block. Control space."
Kiran nodded slowly, processing.
"You're defense first," Viole added. "Not offense."
"…Got it."
"Eira."
She straightened.
"When he blocks—"
A small motion toward Kiran.
"—you strike."
Understanding clicked.
"Point-blank spells," Viole continued. "Or use your staff."
She blinked. "…Staff?"
"Bash."
Simple.
"Stun. Disrupt."
Create openings.
"Then he finishes."
Efficient.
Coordinated.
Eira nodded. "…Okay."
"Luna."
She met his gaze.
"Center."
A beat.
"Maintain support. Don't overreach."
"…Understood."
Then—
"Rath."
She adjusted her grip on the torch.
"You're rear."
A pause.
"Watch for openings. Intersections. Blind spots."
Anything they might miss moving forward.
She nodded.
"And if something gets close?"
A brief pause.
"Don't draw."
She blinked.
"…Then how—?"
"Block with the bow."
He demonstrated slightly.
"Then stab with the arrow."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"…Oh."
"Only shoot if you have space."
Otherwise—
adapt.
She nodded, more focused now.
"…Got it."
Viole looked at them one last time.
Measured.
Prepared.
"Stay tight."
A beat.
"Don't break formation."
Then—
he turned.
Torch raised.
And stepped into the cave.
We pushed deeper into the cave.
Formation held. Tight. Controlled. No gaps.
The scent hit first.
Faint—but unmistakable.
Pepper gas.
It lingered in the air, thin enough not to choke, but strong enough to register. A reminder of what Viole had already done here. A layer of insurance.
Smart.
We reached the split again.
Left.
Right.
No sound from either.
Viole didn't pause long.
"Right."
Quiet. Certain.
They moved.
Before stepping in, he spoke again.
"Stay tight."
A brief pause.
"Always."
His gaze shifted slightly—not just at them, but through them. Measuring.
"If you face this again—same situation—prioritize safety over efficiency."
Kiran frowned slightly, listening.
"You can fail a quest."
Flat.
"You can't retry if you're dead."
That settled it.
A beat.
"This is why the system exists," he continued. "Points. Ranks."
His voice didn't change—but there was something behind it. Not emotion.
Experience.
"To force decisions."
Not speed.
Not power.
Judgment.
"That's also why I'm still Silver."
No pride. No frustration.
Just fact.
We moved.
—
The path stretched further than expected.
Long. Uneven. Quiet.
Too quiet.
No movement. No resistance.
Just the faint echo of our steps against stone.
Then—
it opened.
A cavern.
Not massive. Not small.
Enough space for things to happen.
And the moment we stepped in—
sound.
Weak.
Broken.
Whimpers.
Coughing.
Not goblins.
Human.
Viole didn't rush.
"Hold."
They stopped.
Formation tightened.
Weapons ready.
We moved forward slowly.
Step by step.
No movement from the shadows.
No shifting. No ambush.
Just—
those sounds.
Fragile.
Barely holding.
We found them.
A cage.
Wooden. Crude.
And inside—
girls.
Nine.
All alive.
But not all the same.
Five were conscious. Weak. Trembling. Shaken. Watching us with hollow, uncertain eyes.
The other four—
critical.
Their breathing was shallow. Uneven. Bodies too still. Too light.
Starvation.
And worse.
I felt something settle in my chest.
Not anger.
Not exactly.
Just—
recognition.
Viole didn't react.
Not outwardly.
"Kiran. Eira."
His voice remained even.
"Break it."
They moved immediately.
"Luna."
She looked at him.
"Focus on the critical ones."
She nodded, already stepping forward.
The cage gave way quickly. Wood splintered. Weak structure. No resistance.
The girls flinched at the sound.
Understandable.
Luna knelt beside the worst of them, hands already glowing faintly.
"I—I can stabilize them," she said, voice tight, "but they need proper treatment. This won't be enough."
Viole didn't respond immediately.
Then—
his hand moved.
A bottle.
I recognized it.
From yesterday.
Ai.
The one he bought.
Only one.
He handed it to Luna.
"Split it."
She blinked. "…All of it?"
"Yes."
No hesitation.
"Then heal."
Simple.
Efficient.
Luna didn't argue.
She opened the bottle carefully, dividing what little there was between the four.
I watched.
Honestly—
I didn't expect much.
That amount?
Split four ways?
But the moment it touched them—
something changed.
Their breathing steadied.
Not fully.
But noticeably.
Color returned—just a little.
Enough.
Luna froze for a second.
"…What?"
Then she moved.
Healing followed immediately.
Light. Controlled. Focused.
And this time—
it worked.
Better than it should have.
I watched their condition shift in real time.
From barely holding—
to stable.
Not safe.
But not dying.
Luna exhaled shakily. "…They're… stabilized."
There was disbelief in her voice.
Understandable.
That potion—
wasn't normal.
Viole didn't comment.
Of course he didn't.
He had already turned away.
Watching.
Guarding.
Rath stood with him, bow ready, eyes scanning the cavern edges.
No interruptions.
No ambush.
Still.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
—
The five conscious girls could stand.
Barely.
But they could move.
That left four.
Unconscious.
Viole's gaze moved over them.
Assessing.
Two were small.
Too small.
Twelve.
Maybe fourteen.
The others—
older.
One in her twenties.
The last—mid-teens.
If they moved—
they moved with all of them.
No splitting.
No leaving anyone behind.
Which meant—
risk.
More weight. Less mobility. Slower response.
Perfect conditions for an ambush.
Viole didn't hesitate long.
"I'll carry two."
His gaze moved.
"The small ones."
Kiran straightened slightly.
"I'll take the larger one."
Eira nodded after a beat.
"I'll carry the other."
Rath frowned slightly.
"…Then who's front?"
Valid.
Important.
Because if the front collapses—
everything collapses.
Viole answered immediately.
"Gas."
A beat.
"We flood the path before we move."
Understanding clicked.
"It'll disrupt anything waiting," he continued. "Reduce visibility. Limit engagement."
Not perfect.
But enough.
"Cover your nose. Cloth. Anything."
His gaze flicked briefly toward the girls.
"Eyes partially closed. Endure it."
Not gentle.
Not negotiable.
Necessary.
The girls moved weakly, using what remained of their torn clothes to cover themselves.
Not just for modesty.
Survival.
Everyone agreed.
No complaints.
No hesitation.
Good.
—
Preparation finished.
Viole stepped forward.
Picked up the two smallest.
Light.
Too light.
He adjusted their weight across his shoulders.
Kiran and Eira followed, lifting the others carefully.
Luna stayed central.
The five conscious girls grouped together.
Rath stepped forward.
Torch in one hand.
Ready.
Viole met her gaze.
A nod.
That was enough.
She moved.
The bomb ignited—
a soft hiss—
then released.
Gas spread quickly, filling the path behind them.
"Move."
They didn't walk.
They ran.
Rath led.
Fast. Precise. Scanning ahead.
Eira followed.
Then Kiran.
Luna.
The five girls.
Viole at the rear.
Carrying weight.
Maintaining pace.
I felt it.
The strain.
Not overwhelming—but real.
His breathing adjusted.
Steps heavier.
But controlled.
Always controlled.
The gas thickened as we moved through it.
Eyes stung.
Vision narrowed.
Breathing restricted.
Even through the cloth—
it burned.
But no one stopped.
No one broke formation.
Good.
Very good.
We pushed forward.
Through the path.
Through the sting.
Through the weight.
Toward the light.
We pushed through the gas.
It burned.
Not just the nose. Not just the eyes.
Everything.
Each breath scraped on the way in. Thick. Irritating. Like inhaling something that didn't want to be inside you.
Even through the cloth—it wasn't enough.
Vision narrowed. Edges blurred. Shapes turned uncertain.
But we didn't stop.
Rath moved ahead, steady despite the conditions. The torchlight cut through just enough to keep direction.
We followed.
Fast.
Faster than before.
No hesitation. No pauses.
Just forward.
I felt it more now.
The weight.
Two bodies across his shoulders—light, but not weightless. Not after a fight. Not after a run.
His breathing tightened.
Not losing control.
But heavier.
Each inhale deeper.
Each exhale sharper.
The strain was there.
And the gas—
made it worse.
Then—
light.
The cave mouth.
We broke through.
Air hit us.
Fresh.
Cold.
And—
Viole coughed.
Hard.
Not controlled. Not measured.
It came out rough, forced, his chest tightening as he pulled in air too quickly, too deep. The kind of cough you don't suppress because you can't.
I felt it.
The drag in his lungs. The way his breath hitched between coughs, trying to stabilize and failing for a moment.
Again.
Another cough.
Sharp. Burning.
His grip didn't loosen.
He held the girls steady until he cleared enough space.
Kiran and Eira weren't much better.
Coughing. Bending slightly. Trying to recover.
The others followed.
Same.
Gas leaving the system.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Rath was already moving.
No pause.
She had her bow up, scanning the treeline, posture tight, eyes sharp.
Ready.
But—
nothing.
No movement.
No ambush.
No follow-up.
…
That was wrong.
Too clean.
Too quiet.
I felt it settle in.
This should've been the moment.
If something was waiting—
this was where it should strike.
But it didn't.
The girls were safe.
Alive.
That mattered.
For now.
—
Viole, Kiran, and Eira lowered the unconscious girls carefully onto the ground.
No rush.
No carelessness.
Just controlled movement.
Then—
Viole stepped back.
Breathing.
Still uneven.
Still recovering.
I felt his chest rise deeper than before. Air filling, then leaving slower, trying to stabilize rhythm.
The burn in his lungs hadn't fully faded.
Neither had the strain.
And yet—
he was already thinking.
I felt it shift.
Not outwardly.
But inside.
Planning.
Adjusting.
Then—
he spoke.
Not short commands.
Not single words.
Actual thought.
"…There might be more."
His voice was steady.
But not as flat as before.
Just slightly altered.
Subtle.
"The other path."
A brief pause.
"But we secure this first."
Logical.
Immediate priority.
"They need to be moved."
His gaze flicked to the unconscious girls.
"Carriage."
Better than carrying them all the way.
"And reinforcements."
Another pause.
"This time, someone might come."
That was new.
Not the words.
The way he said it.
Less certainty.
More… consideration.
I noticed.
So did they.
One of the girls—the older one—raised her hand weakly.
"I… I can go."
All eyes turned to her.
"I still have strength," she continued. "I can make it back."
Viole didn't hesitate.
"Can you handle a blade?"
She nodded.
That was enough.
He pulled one of his daggers.
Handed it to her.
"Take it."
Simple.
"Defend yourself if needed."
No dramatics.
Just preparation.
Then—
his coat.
He removed it without comment and handed it over.
She hesitated for a second—then took it.
Wrapped it around herself.
Right.
Half-naked.
Didn't even register until now.
Practical.
Always practical.
She steadied herself.
Then turned.
And left.
—
Rath moved immediately.
Up the trees.
Silent.
Tracking.
Maintaining visual.
We waited.
Minutes passed.
Short.
Quiet.
Viole's breathing steadied during that time. Not fully recovered—but controlled again.
Rath returned.
"She made it out."
Simple.
Confirmed.
Good.
They sat near the cave entrance.
Not relaxed.
Just… grounded.
Recovering.
"Luna."
She looked up.
"How much?"
She understood immediately.
"…Not sure exactly," she admitted. "But I can still cast. Maybe two more heals."
A rough estimate.
Enough to work with.
Viole nodded once.
That was sufficient.
Time passed.
Then—
sound.
Distant.
Rhythmic.
Galloping.
Everyone reacted.
Instinctively.
They stood.
Weapons ready.
Except the four still unconscious.
Rath was already gone.
Up again.
Faster this time.
A moment—
Then she looked down.
Met Viole's gaze.
And nodded.
Carriage.
From the city.
—
It didn't reach all the way.
Couldn't.
The battlefield blocked it.
Goblin bodies scattered everywhere.
The carriage stopped short.
Two figures stepped down.
Fast.
Prepared.
They moved into position immediately.
Disciplined.
Experienced.
I noticed their insignias.
Gold.
E-rank.
Both.
A ranger.
And a swordsman.
Not careless.
Not arrogant.
Just ready.
The conscious girls moved first.
Slow but steady.
Following Viole, Kiran, and Eira as they carried the unconscious ones.
As Viole stepped into view—
the escorts saw him.
Recognition.
Then—
a nod.
Simple.
Respect.
Acknowledgment.
No words needed.
At the back of the carriage—
the girl.
The one who ran.
She was waiting.
Relief hit her face the moment she saw them.
She moved immediately, helping the others climb in.
One by one.
Careful with the unconscious.
No rush.
Just urgency.
Once all were inside—
Viole stepped toward the escorts.
"Just you two?"
Direct.
They nodded.
"Reinforcements?"
A slight shake of the head.
"We're it," the swordsman said. "And we can't assist. We're escorting them back."
Makes sense.
Priority shifted.
Extraction over engagement.
Viole nodded once.
No argument.
No wasted words.
He turned.
The job wasn't done.
The ranger called out.
"Hey."
Viole paused—just slightly.
"You got this."
A beat.
"…And thanks."
Simple.
Sincere.
Viole didn't turn back.
Didn't respond.
He just raised a hand.
A small wave.
And kept walking.
Back toward the cave.
Of course he did.
We regrouped at the cave entrance.
Same place.
Same air.
Different weight.
The others looked… lighter.
Not careless. Not distracted.
Just—relieved.
Kiran rolled his shoulders, tension easing. Eira exhaled slower than before. Even Luna looked steadier.
Their first commission.
They saved lives.
That sat well with them.
Viole noticed.
Of course he did.
"It's not over."
Flat.
No edge.
Just fact.
The shift was immediate.
Relief tightened back into focus.
"Form up."
No delay.
They moved into position.
Same as before.
Viole at the front. Torch in hand.
Kiran behind.
Luna. Eira.
Rath at the rear.
We stepped inside.
—
The smell hit again.
Pepper gas.
Faint now.
No longer burning—but still there.
Enough to remind.
Their bodies reacted anyway.
Subtle.
A slight hesitation in breath.
A small tightening.
Memory.
Pain doesn't need to be present to be remembered.
We didn't stop.
Left path.
Unexplored.
Untouched.
At least—
that's what it should've been.
A few steps in—
metal.
A blade.
Broken.
Further—
more.
Weapons.
Damaged.
Bent.
Then—
blood.
Dried.
Dark against stone.
And then—
limbs.
Goblin.
Severed.
Not clean cuts.
Torn.
Ripped.
The deeper we went—
the worse it got.
Bodies.
Dismembered.
Scattered.
Not a fight.
A slaughter.
I felt it settle.
This wasn't done by us.
Not goblins.
Something else.
Something inside.
We kept moving.
Careful.
Measured.
The tunnel stretched—
then opened.
A cavern.
Larger than the first.
Wider.
Deeper.
The scent of pepper gas lingered more here.
Trapped.
Circulating.
Torchlight pushed back the dark—but only barely.
A few meters.
No more.
Everything beyond—
uncertain.
We advanced.
Slow.
Formation tight.
Then—
a sound.
A whimper.
Faint.
Human.
From deeper inside.
Everyone heard it.
And in that exact moment—
everything changed.
I felt it before I understood it.
A shift.
Sharp.
Violent.
Intent.
Killing intent.
It wasn't sound.
It wasn't sight.
It was—
pressure.
Like something snapped into place around us.
And Viole—
moved.
No thought.
No delay.
His body reacted before I could process.
His hand was already on the hilt—
steel left the sheath in a single clean motion—
and the world—
broke.
Not literally.
But it felt like it.
Space compressed.
Distance folded.
One step—
became none.
And suddenly—
we weren't where we were.
We were beside Luna.
I felt it.
The acceleration.
The force behind it.
The precision.
Not speed alone.
Control.
Perfect.
His feet didn't scramble.
Didn't adjust.
He arrived exactly where he needed to be.
And the moment he did—
impact.
A shape burst from the darkness.
Low.
Fast.
A blur of muscle and teeth—
aimed straight at Luna.
Viole's blade met it.
Not a swing.
A placement.
Exact.
The katana angled just enough—
edge aligned—
not to cut—
but to intercept.
The jaws came down—
and stopped.
Steel caught between them.
A sharp, grinding sound as force met resistance.
The impact traveled through the blade—
into his arm—
into us.
Heavy.
Not overwhelming.
But real.
Strong.
Stronger than a goblin.
Claws scraped against the ground as the creature pushed forward.
Viole held.
No wasted motion.
No overcommitment.
Just enough force to stop it.
Then—
it recoiled.
Jumped back.
Fast.
Light.
Controlled.
A growl followed.
Low.
Wet.
And something else—
a smell.
Rot.
Faint.
But unmistakable.
Viole didn't chase.
Didn't move.
He stayed in place.
Between it—
and Luna.
"…Can you cast light?"
His voice didn't change.
Luna nodded immediately.
"Yes—"
Light formed in her hand.
Small.
But enough.
It spread outward.
Dim.
Soft.
But it revealed—
everything.
The cavern came into view.
And the scene—
clicked.
Far side.
A small recess.
Two figures.
Human.
Alive.
Barely.
That's where the whimper came from.
And the ground—
littered.
Goblin remains.
Everywhere.
Not just dead.
Destroyed.
And then—
the other side.
It stood there.
Watching.
A wolf.
At least—
that's what it should've been.
Its frame was large. Lean. Built for speed.
But the flesh—
was wrong.
Rotting.
Patches missing.
Exposed muscle.
Darkened veins.
Its eyes—
dull.
But focused.
Alive—
in the worst way.
A corpse that refused to stop moving.
I felt it immediately.
Wrong.
Completely wrong.
Viole's gaze stayed on it.
Still.
Unmoving.
Then—
"…That explains it."
Quiet.
Measured.
"The cave."
A brief pause.
"The settlement."
Pieces connected.
"It forced them out."
The goblins.
"They fought it."
That much was obvious.
"They lost."
And ran.
Out.
Built outside.
Left everything behind.
Even—
the captives.
Disposable.
The logic was simple.
Brutal.
Then—
Viole's gaze sharpened slightly.
Not outwardly.
But I felt it.
Focused.
"…It's smart."
A beat.
"The first attack."
His grip tightened just slightly on the katana.
"It targeted the healer."
Not random.
Not instinct alone.
Choice.
That—
made it worse.
A lot worse.
We held.
Not moving.
Not advancing.
Not retreating.
Just—watching.
The monster didn't lunge again.
Didn't circle.
Didn't grow impatient.
It stayed where it was.
Low. Ready.
Waiting.
…
Right.
It wasn't just us assessing it.
It was doing the same.
Viole's gaze didn't leave it.
Not even for a second.
I felt the shift.
The calculation.
Undead.
The smell. The flesh. The behavior.
It lined up.
And that meant—
a problem.
A real one.
"…Undead."
Flat.
Certain.
"They don't go down normally."
A brief pause.
"Holy water. Priest magic."
Neither of which—
we had.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Clear.
"We fall back."
No hesitation.
"Leave them."
Simple.
Efficient.
Logical.
—
"No."
The voice cut through.
Soft.
But firm.
Luna.
All of us felt it.
That shift.
Not fear.
Not hesitation.
Emotion.
Raw.
"They're right there," she said, her voice trembling—not from weakness, but from holding something back. "They saw us."
A breath.
"They saw the torch."
Her eyes flicked toward the two survivors.
"…They saw adventurers."
Another breath.
"They thought they were getting out."
Her grip tightened slightly on her staff.
"…And then what?"
A pause.
"We just leave them?"
Silence.
The cavern felt heavier.
The monster didn't move.
Still watching.
Still waiting.
Viole didn't respond immediately.
His eyes never left the creature.
Not once.
But I felt it.
He heard her.
He understood.
That wasn't something you could ignore.
Not completely.
"…I didn't become an adventurer to play a hero."
His voice was steady.
Grounded.
"To save people."
A beat.
"I do this to live."
Simple.
Honest.
No embellishment.
No justification.
Just truth.
And—
yeah.
That made sense.
I found myself agreeing.
Huh… Makes sense.
But—
before the thought could settle—
something else surfaced.
Not spoken.
Not voiced.
Just—
there.
A memory.
Fresh.
Clear.
Yesterday.
A hand extended.
No reason.
No obligation.
Just—
kindness.
Ai.
Unconditional.
…
I felt it land.
Quiet.
But heavy.
Viole didn't say anything.
But he remembered.
I knew he did.
A pause stretched.
Not long.
But enough.
Then—
"…Fine."
Quiet.
Decided.
Everything shifted.
Immediately.
"Listen."
His tone sharpened—not louder, but focused.
"I'll take its attention."
No room for argument.
"Rath supports."
She nodded.
Already ready.
"Kiran. Eira."
They straightened.
"Get them."
A brief pause.
"Fast."
No hesitation.
"Luna."
She looked at him.
"Stay behind me."
A beat.
"Keep the light up."
She nodded.
Firm.
Resolved.
Everyone moved into place.
No questions.
No delays.
Good.
—
Viole stepped forward.
Just slightly.
Then—
his stance changed.
And I felt it.
Immediately.
Familiar.
Not from here.
From somewhere else.
Memory.
Something I'd seen before.
Koncho-no-Kamae.
Right.
That.
His body lowered.
Center of gravity dropped.
Not exaggerated.
Not forced.
Just—
natural.
Like this was where he was supposed to be.
His form tightened.
Coiled.
Ready.
The katana rose.
Not forward.
Back.
Drawn behind his shoulder.
The blade angled outward—
like a wing.
Delicate.
Precise.
His grip—
light.
Too light.
But I felt the tension beneath it.
Like a wire pulled to its limit.
Ready to snap forward at any moment.
From the outside—
it looked open.
Exposed.
Fragile.
But that was the trick.
I could feel it.
This wasn't defense.
This was—
promise.
Movement waiting to happen.
A position that said:
Come closer.
Try.
And in that moment—
Viole didn't feel stationary anymore.
Even standing still—
he felt like motion.
Like he could disappear—
and reappear—
anywhere within reach.
The monster saw it too.
Its posture shifted.
Subtle.
Lower.
More cautious.
Good.
It understood.
At least—
a little.
Viole didn't move.
Didn't provoke.
Didn't rush.
He just—
waited.
For it—
to make the first mistake.
The cavern held its breath.
So did we.
Then—
"Now."
Kiran and Eira moved instantly.
No hesitation.
They broke formation, sprinting toward the survivors at the far end.
And at the same time—
Viole moved.
No—
that's not right.
He disappeared.
—
I felt it.
Flash Step.
I'd seen it before, but—
this was different.
Up close.
Inside it.
There was no buildup.
No visible wind-up.
One moment—
we were here.
The next—
we weren't.
Space didn't stretch.
It skipped.
Like a frame cut out of reality and replaced with another.
And in that missing frame—
we moved.
Fast.
Precise.
Controlled.
We reappeared in front of the monster—
mid-strike.
The katana came down from the Koncho-no-Kamae stance.
Not wide.
Not exaggerated.
A tight, snapping arc.
All the stored tension released in one motion.
Clean.
Sharp.
Lethal.
—
Clang.
The claw met the blade.
Perfectly timed.
The impact jolted through us.
Not enough to break form—
but enough to confirm it.
It was fast.
Too fast.
—
No pause.
Flash Step again.
The world skipped—
and we were at its flank.
Blind spot.
Perfect angle.
The blade cut in—
—
Blocked.
Again.
The creature twisted unnaturally, its body reacting faster than it should.
Its claw intercepted the strike just before it landed.
It tracked us.
It read us.
Then—
it attacked.
A swipe.
Heavy.
Brutal.
Viole met it.
Steel against claw.
This time—
we were pushed back.
I felt it.
Feet sliding against stone.
The force traveling through his arms, his shoulders, his core.
Controlled.
Absorbed.
But not ignored.
This thing—
was strong.
—
No time.
It pressed.
Another strike.
Then another.
Claws came in rapid succession.
Not wild.
Not feral.
Measured.
Each attack aimed.
Each one testing.
Viole responded in kind.
Block.
Deflect.
Step.
Adjust.
From inside—
it felt like a rhythm.
Not chaotic.
Not desperate.
A system.
Like—
a game.
A first-person fight where every input mattered.
Every movement had consequence.
The monster lunged—
Flash Step—
we were gone.
Reappeared to the side—
strike—
blocked.
Counter—
we met it—
steel and flesh colliding again.
The sound echoed.
Sharp.
Ugly.
—
For a brief second—
Viole's gaze flicked.
Kiran.
Eira.
They were close.
Almost there.
Good.
—
That was enough.
Because the moment his focus shifted—
the monster moved.
Fast.
Faster than before.
It lunged.
Straight at us.
No hesitation.
No feint.
Just—
kill.
Viole reacted instantly.
Blade up.
Impact.
Hard.
This one—
pushed.
More force.
More weight.
We slid back again.
Stone scraping beneath his boots.
The exchange didn't stop.
Claw.
Blade.
Claw.
Blade.
A chain.
Continuous.
Relentless.
Every strike met.
Every opening closed.
But—
we weren't winning.
Not here.
Not like this.
—
Another push.
We were forced back again.
Distance opened.
Barely.
Viole didn't chase.
Didn't advance.
Because he didn't need to.
That wasn't the goal.
Keep its attention.
That's it.
Everything else—
secondary.
—
A sharp sound cut through.
Thwip.
Rath.
The arrow struck.
Clean.
Direct hit.
—
Nothing.
No reaction.
No flinch.
No damage.
…
Right.
Undead.
Of course.
—
Then—
it clicked.
Not fully.
But enough.
Fire.
That's the angle.
Not killing.
But slowing.
Disrupting.
That was enough.
And just as the thought settled—
movement behind.
Kiran.
Eira.
They had them.
The survivors were back.
Safe.
Behind us.
Good.
Then—
"Eira!"
His voice cut through the cavern.
"Explosion spell!"
A beat.
"Doesn't need to hit!"
Clarity.
"Create space!"
She nodded immediately.
Mana gathered.
Fast.
—
"Rath!"
She looked up.
"Fire arrows!"
A brief pause.
"Break the torch—use it!"
Understanding clicked.
"Four. Five. Enough to ignite!"
She moved.
Already dismantling.
Efficient.
—
"Eira—"
He continued, eyes never leaving the monster.
"I'll immobilize it."
A shift.
"Legs."
Tendons.
Precise.
"If I land it—burn it."
Simple.
Direct.
"If it holds—"
A beat.
"I take the head."
No drama.
Just execution.
—
Then—
"Kiran."
He didn't look back.
"Be ready."
A pause.
"Move them if it fails."
No illusions.
No guarantees.
Kiran tightened his grip.
"…Got it."
—
"Luna."
She focused.
"Heal the conscious ones."
Stabilize.
Prepare.
"…Understood."
—
Everything aligned.
Roles set.
No confusion.
No overlap.
Just—
function.
—
The monster moved again.
Low.
Ready.
Watching.
Same as before.
But now—
we had a plan.
And Viole—
tightened his grip.
Just slightly.
Ready to move.
Again.
Viole exhaled once.
Then—
he sheathed the katana.
The sound was soft.
Deliberate.
And the moment it clicked into place—
his posture changed.
Different from before.
Lower.
Still.
Contained.
His hand rested lightly on the hilt.
Not gripping.
Waiting.
I recognized it.
Iai.
Right.
Quick draw.
One motion.
Draw and cut—
at the same time.
A stance built for counters.
For speed.
For ending things before they begin.
I'd seen it before.
Anime.
Clean. Flashy.
But this—
wasn't that.
This felt sharper.
More dangerous.
Because there was no wasted motion here.
No flourish.
Just intent.
—
The monster moved.
It lunged.
Same as before.
Fast.
Direct.
And Viole—
didn't move.
Not yet.
Not until—
the exact moment.
Then—
Flash Step.
—
The world skipped.
Again.
But this time—
it felt different.
Not just movement.
Timing.
We entered the attack.
Not around it.
Not away from it.
Through it.
And in that single missing frame—
his hand moved.
The blade left the sheath—
not drawn—
released.
A flash of steel—
too fast to follow—
and we were past it.
—
A cut.
Clean.
Precise.
I didn't even feel the resistance at first.
Then—
a sound.
Wet.
Tight.
The rear leg—
left—
gave.
The tendon severed.
—
The monster flinched.
Its movement broke.
Just for a fraction.
Enough.
"Fire!"
The command came instantly.
No delay.
And before the first reaction could settle—
Flash Step again.
We vanished—
reappeared—
front leg.
Left.
Same motion.
Draw.
Cut.
Gone.
—
The second tendon snapped.
—
Behind us—
impact.
Eira's spell landed.
A burst.
Heat.
Fire spread across its body.
The smell—
burning rot.
Thick.
Sickening.
—
The monster didn't fall.
It refused to fall.
Even with two legs compromised—
it pushed forward.
Tried to lunge.
But it couldn't.
Balance was gone.
Control slipping.
And Viole—
was already moving.
No hesitation.
No pause.
We circled.
Flanked.
This time—
no restraint.
The blade came down—
harder.
Wider.
A guillotine.
Clean through.
The rear leg—
severed.
Completely.
—
It hit the ground.
But—
it moved.
The flesh twitched.
Shifted.
Trying—
to reconnect.
To regenerate.
—
But the fire—
spread faster.
Consuming.
Interrupting.
Stopping it.
Good.
That was the key.
—
Arrows followed.
Rath.
One.
Two.
Three.
Flaming tips embedding into the creature.
Adding to the blaze.
Eira sustained it.
Fireballs.
Controlled.
Relentless.
—
And Viole—
kept cutting.
Legs.
Joints.
Anything that gave it movement.
Sever.
Step.
Flash Step.
Reposition.
Cut again.
From inside—
it was overwhelming.
Not chaotic—
but fast.
Too fast for thought.
Each movement chained into the next.
Every step precise.
Every strike intentional.
No wasted effort.
Just—
execution.
—
Then—
the fire faltered.
Eira.
Out.
I felt it immediately.
The drop.
The pause.
But the flames—
remained.
Enough.
—
The monster staggered.
Its body failing.
Burning.
Breaking.
Then—
it fell.
—
And Viole—
didn't wait.
Didn't confirm.
Didn't hesitate.
The blade moved.
One clean arc.
—
The head separated.
Rolled.
Burning.
—
The body—
still moved.
Limbs twitching.
Trying.
Still not dead.
Of course it wasn't.
—
Viole moved again.
Back to the body.
Cut.
Again.
And again.
Legs severed.
Kicked away.
Scattered.
Fire consuming each piece.
Preventing—
reconnection.
Finality.
—
Then—
it stopped.
No movement.
No twitch.
Nothing.
—
Silence.
—
Viole stepped back.
Turned.
"Move."
No explanation.
No delay.
Rath and Kiran moved immediately.
They grabbed the survivors.
No time to walk.
They carried them.
And ran.
—
We followed.
Fast.
But—
this time—
I felt it.
Everything.
The cost.
His breathing—
was wrong.
Not controlled.
Not steady.
Each inhale—
sharp.
Forced.
Like his lungs hadn't caught up yet.
Like they were still burning.
Flash Step.
Again and again.
Too many.
Too fast.
The backlash hit now.
Hard.
His legs felt heavier.
Each step carried weight that wasn't there before.
His arms—
tight.
Strained.
Even holding the blade felt different.
Not weak—
but pushed.
Close to the edge.
His vision—
shifted.
Just slightly.
Edges blurring.
Not enough to fail—
but enough to notice.
And yet—
he didn't slow.
Didn't stop.
Didn't say anything.
Just—
kept moving.
Forward.
Out.
—
The cave exit came into view.
Light.
Fresh air.
We broke through.
No pursuit.
No movement behind.
But we didn't stop.
Didn't rest.
Didn't even look back.
Because if that thing—
got back up—
distance was the only thing that mattered.
We ran.
Out of the cave.
Into the forest.
Toward the city.
And Viole—
kept going.
Even as his breath burned.
Even as his body protested.
Even as his vision threatened to slip—
He held on.
Just a little longer.