Nine days.
That was all the time they had left.
The dawn mist clung to the edges of Eidenweld as Reynar and Liora moved from one cottage to the next, securing the last of their preparations under the cover of half-truths. Most villagers believed they were heading out for a long quest, perhaps to Windrest or a merchant expedition. None knew the truth: that the black pit festering near their home would soon burst open and consume them all.
Reynar glanced at the clear sky, then down at the new gear strapped across his frame. His armor was reinforced now—dark grey leathers enchanted with shadow wards, trimmed with lightweight mithril along the joints. A gift from Windrest's more reputable merchant, and one he was lucky to afford after pawning off some loot from their last dungeon.
Liora, too, was better equipped. Her throwing knives had grown in number, and her new cloak shimmered faintly under sunlight—imbued with a barrier ward strong enough to deflect minor magic. But more than anything, it was her presence—calm, unwavering, steady—that grounded him.
And yet, beneath it all… something else pulsed.
A bond deeper than strategy. Stronger than necessity.
Later that evening, as twilight settled across the village and the sky turned lavender, the two sat in silence beneath the same tree where Reynar had first begun his training.
The tree had grown darker in the dying light. But the silence between them was not awkward.
Just… weighty.
"It's strange," Reynar murmured. "How we started from nothing."
"You were a bleeding mess with no sword skills," Liora said, glancing sideways at him.
"And you were a cold, grumpy forest hermit," he shot back with a grin.
Her eyes narrowed, but her lips twitched. "I still am."
"I know." He leaned back against the tree trunk. "But... I don't think I'd have made it without you."
Liora was quiet for a moment. Then: "You remind me of someone I lost."
Reynar turned toward her.
"My brother," she said softly. "Before the fire. Before everything changed."
She didn't say more, but she didn't need to.
Reynar slowly extended a hand and rested it over hers. "I'm not him. But I'll fight just as hard to keep you safe."
Liora looked at him, her lips parting slightly. The moment hung—an unspoken warmth passing between them.
And for once, she didn't pull her hand away.
[System Notification]Companion Affinity: Liora – 91%Your bond has deepened. New Combo Skill unlocked: "Dual Strike – Shadow Spiral."
The wind rustled the leaves above. Neither of them moved. For just a moment, the dread faded.
But far away—within the cold, stone heart of a fortress cloaked in shadow—another moment unfolded.
Elsewhere – Sylvie
Sylvie knelt on the hard, blackened tiles, sweat beading along her forehead. Her silver hair clung to her face, and her body still ached from the last mission. Yet it wasn't pain that made her tremble now.
It was the presence standing above her.
"You were careless."
Her master's voice was calm. That was worse than anger. He never needed to raise it.
"I finished the mission," Sylvie said, her voice low, eyes downcast.
"You let outsiders interfere. You let them see."
"I didn't ask for their help—"
"But you accepted it," he snapped, his boot slamming down inches from her hand. "And now, they think they belong in that world. Your world."
Sylvie clenched her fists. "They'll die in the next dungeon. They won't make it to the sanctum."
"They better not," he said coldly. "Because if they do... I will consider your loyalty compromised."
She said nothing.
The master crouched down beside her, a gloved hand lifting her chin to force her to look at him. His eyes were hollow—a void deeper than the dungeon itself.
"This next mission," he whispered, "is your last chance. You will enter the rift first. You will complete the quota. You will return with the relic."
"And if I don't?"
He smiled. "Then we'll see if the your buyers prefer live products... or parts."
As he turned and left the chamber, Sylvie remained kneeling, trembling not from fear—but from rage buried deep beneath chains of obedience.
She had trained too hard. Bled too much.
She would complete this mission.
And yet... even now, behind the terror, two faces lingered in her mind.
Reynar.Liora.
Why?
She cursed herself. Cursed them for distracting her. For making her feel something she wasn't allowed to feel.