DAY 5
Luis woke to the scent of herbs and the soft murmur of voices. His entire body ached, as if someone had driven a truck through his ribs—and then backed up for good measure. Sunlight filtered through the wooden slats of an unfamiliar ceiling, casting golden stripes across the woven blanket that covered him.
"Mom—Mom! He's awake!"
A small face leaned into view—the girl he'd saved. Her eyes were wide, her voice bubbling with relief. Behind her, the rest of the family rushed in, their expressions softening from worry to joy.
"Thank God," the mother whispered, gently pressing a damp cloth to his forehead. "You've been out for almost two days."
Luis tried to sit up. Pain lanced through his side.
"Two—?!"
"Easy," the father said, steadying him. "You were in bad shape when we carried you here."
The door creaked open.
A woman stepped inside—tall, graceful, with hair like spun moonlight and eyes the soft hue of dusk. She carried a basket of herbs, luminous blue petals spilling over the rim like living starlight.
"I see our patient has returned to the land of the living," she said, voice warm but grounded in strength.
The family bowed slightly.
"Rain," the mother said, relief blooming in her voice. "Your medicine worked."
Rain set down the basket and knelt beside Luis, brushing his wrist gently. Faint silver markings curled along her skin like moonlit vines.
"My name is Rain Amana," she said, meeting his gaze. "Level 1, Gardener Class. My patron is Selune, the Moon Goddess."
Luis blinked. "Gardener… Class?"
Rain smiled, and for a moment, the room brightened. "I grow things. Flowers. Herbs. Some of them… unique." She nodded toward the blue poultice pressed against his ribs. "That one knits flesh twice as fast as synthetic medicine."
Luis glanced from her to the family. "You're a Host. And you're here?"
"The only one in this village," Rain said. "You're the second I've ever met."
THE VILLAGE OF THE HIDDEN
With Rain's help, Luis made it outside. The mountain air hit him like a blessing.
The village was nestled along high ridges and terraced fields, wood-and-stone homes clinging to the cliffs. Below, forests rolled toward distant ruins. The city was a faint smear on the far horizon.
"Where… are we?" he asked.
"Sanctuary," Rain said softly. "150 miles north of Manila. High enough that the monsters grow tired climbing. And the few that make it?" Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I handle them."
Luis studied her. "Just you?"
"The villagers help. Traps. Smoke bombs. Nets. But yes—just me."
They walked slowly through the village. People paused in their chores to nod respectfully. There was no panic here, no screaming or sirens—only cautious calm, carved out by people too stubborn to die.
"How is this place still standing?" Luis asked. "The guilds, the WHI—they'd have claimed it."
Rain stopped at the cliff's edge, looking out at the mist. "Because they don't know we're here. And we'd like to keep it that way."
She looked at him. "You're safe here, Luis. For now."
THE CALM BEFORE
That night, the villagers built a quiet fire in Luis's honor. Not a grand festival, but a gathering—a gesture of thanks. The children danced around the flames. The family he saved sat nearby, laughter returning to their voices.
Rain played a flute near the fire, the melody drifting like smoke into the stars. It sounded ancient, like something the mountain itself remembered.
Luis sat at the edge of it all, his hammer beside him, the pain in his chest finally starting to fade.
Zyx hovered beside him, for once solemn. "A Gardener Class," he murmured. "Rare. Useless in a fight… but in a place like this? She's their shield."
Luis turned to him. "You knew about her?"
"No," Zyx admitted. "But the Moon Goddess? Selune's a wildcard. She doesn't play the Ascension like the rest of us."
Rain's song ended. She looked over the fire, her gaze meeting Luis's.
She nodded once.
An invitation.
Luis stood. His legs were still shaky, but they held. He walked toward her.
Tomorrow, he'd ask about the herbs.
Tomorrow, he'd figure out how to repay this place.
But tonight?
Tonight, he was just grateful to be alive.