"Just go! Save yourself and get out of here!"
There was no need for her to say it twice.
The sharp urgency in Lena's voice snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts like a slap to the face. Her tone was desperate—not pleading, but commanding, resolute. And I knew she meant it. She was ready to die if it meant I could escape.
But she didn't understand.
I wasn't running away.
Without a second's hesitation, I turned and lunged into the portal behind me.
From Lena's perspective, it must have looked like I was fleeing the dungeon—desperate to escape with my life, abandoning her and the others to their fate.
But she was wrong.
Dead wrong.
My destination wasn't the dungeon's exit.
It was the reward room.
The moment I passed through the portal, my senses twisted. My stomach churned, the ground dropped out from under me, and the world distorted into a whirlwind of shadow and color.
I floated. Untethered, suspended in something not quite time, not quite space. Like the dungeon itself was trying to decide whether to let me in or spit me out.
Then—
Snap.
A sudden stillness.
The war-torn battlefield behind me—Skreeches shrieking, metal clashing, blood soaking into fractured stone—was gone.
Silence.
Complete, perfect silence.
My feet touched down gently on polished obsidian tiles. The air here was still and clean, without the stench of death or decay. Soft golden light pulsed through the glowing runes carved into the walls, casting warm, serene patterns on the floor beneath me.
The reward chamber.
A sanctum untouched by the carnage outside.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. My body ached, my head throbbed faintly, but I was standing.
I took a cautious step forward. My boots clacked softly against the stone, echoing in the otherwise empty chamber. This place wasn't large. Modest, even. Humble by design, but with an unmistakable weight to it—a sacred atmosphere that pressed gently against my shoulders like the gaze of something greater.
Then, a voice echoed—ethereal and calm.
[Do you feel grateful to others?]
[Do you feel grateful toward your parents?]
[Can you sacrifice yourself to save others?]
I froze.
It was a voice that carried neither judgment nor demand. Only… inquiry. The questions floated around me, not seeking answers but simply existing—remnants of the saint's will, embedded in the very foundation of the room. A test? Perhaps once. But not anymore.
I ignored them.
This wasn't about reflection. Not right now.
This was about survival.
My eyes moved across the chamber, quickly locking onto the pedestal near the far wall. There, displayed with quiet reverence, was my target.
A slender crystal vial, no longer than my index finger. Its contents shimmered with a soft silver luminescence, a single tear suspended in the vial as though time had frozen it.
The Bottle of Pure Tears.
I approached it with slow, deliberate steps. My fingers hovered above the glass, and even without touching it, I could feel the pulse of its dormant power—a cool, soothing aura, like standing beneath a moonlit sky after a long, brutal storm.
But then I saw it—him.
Or rather, the second reward.
Nestled just beside the pedestal was a small platform, upon which rested a plain silver ring. No markings. No jewels. No fancy decorations.
Just a ring.
Unassuming. Forgettable.
But I knew better.
This was the real surprise.
The Oath of the Saint.
An artifact born of the saint's dying regrets, infused with the totality of his will. This was no ordinary trinket—it was a piece of a man's soul, crystallized into form.
I picked up the ring carefully. As soon as it left the pedestal, a faint warmth spread through my palm. Subtle. Comforting. Like holding someone's hand.
There was a moment, fleeting and small, where I almost slipped it on.
But no.
Not yet.
The ring held a cost. A weight I wasn't ready to bear.
I slipped it into my pocket, feeling it settle there like a promise yet to be fulfilled.
And then, I turned to the tear.
This was why I'd come.
I lifted the vial and uncorked it gently.
The scent of it hit me first—something faintly floral and pure, like the first rainfall after a long drought. Then I tilted it back and drank.
The tear slid down my throat like silk.
Cool.
Smooth.
Radiant.
Like swallowing light.
The effect was instantaneous.
My lungs expanded as if breathing for the first time. My chest tightened, and then—
Thump.
My heart pulsed. Once.
Thump.
Again. Stronger.
THUMP.
A third time—booming like thunder in my ears. A rhythm reborn.
I gasped as energy exploded through my veins. Not wild or violent, but clean. Controlled. Like a current aligning perfectly with my being.
My soul… it was evolving.
I dropped to one knee, not from pain—but from the sheer intensity of it. My body was no longer resisting the damage. It was repairing it. Enhancing it.
Every fiber of my being hummed with new life.
The saint's voice echoed again, softer this time—almost like a whisper directly into my heart.
[I hope this power of mine, which failed to save anyone, will come to aid you in your time of need.]
My fists clenched, trembling.
That man… he hadn't been a warrior. He hadn't been some grand hero or mythic champion.
He'd been ordinary.
But his will…
His will had been unbreakable.
His Talent, [Undying Will], was a monument to that resolve. A power that refused to let him fall, even in the face of certain death.
And now, I carried a piece of that legacy.
A diluted version, yes—but powerful all the same.
[Eternal Return.]
A Trait that refined my soul. That gently mended me each day—restoring life, regenerating Primal Qi, and ensuring I would never be helpless again.
Not flashy. Not overwhelming.
But quietly relentless.
The kind of strength that grows over time… and endures.
I stood slowly, exhaling through gritted teeth. My hands moved—fast, sharp, precise. No longer clumsy. My thoughts cleared, my vision sharpened.
I felt alive.
More than that.
I felt ready.
I reached into my pocket, brushing my fingers against the ring.
Its warmth responded to my touch, as if it, too, was waiting.
Waiting for me to make a vow.
But not yet.
First, there was something I had to do.
Someone I had to save.
I turned toward the far side of the room, where another portal shimmered—a second exit, connected directly to the heart of the dungeon.
The battlefield.
The world had taken Lena from me once before.
I wouldn't let it happen again.
I clenched my jaw, steeled my resolve, and stepped into the light.
Time to return.