For a brief moment, Lena stood among the strongest in the world.
The sheer power coursing through her veins was something she had never dared to dream of achieving. It wasn't just strength—it was omnipotence.
For the first time in her life, she could stand toe-to-toe with S-rankers.
A monumental achievement.
A feeling that could make anyone drunk on power.
But Lena wasn't in the mood to celebrate.
She was furious.
And she didn't have time.
Her gaze flickered back to the boy lying motionless behind her. From a distance, it would seem like he had simply passed out, but she knew better.
He was barely clinging to life.
And she couldn't waste a single second.
Her grip tightened. The Skreeches swarmed toward her—dozens, no, hundreds—but they didn't matter.
Nothing mattered except saving him.
Taking a deep breath, she moved.
And for the first time, she truly understood how to fight.
How to move her body with complete precision.
How to throw a punch.
Even if there were thousands of them, it wouldn't make a difference.
She lightly clenched her fist.
There was no need to overexert herself.
No need for fancy techniques.
A natural stance. A simple, straight punch.
And then—
Bang.
The air split apart with a sound so sharp, so perfect, it sent chills down her spine.
That single strike—so effortless, so pure—ripped through the battlefield like a storm.
The Skreeches? Gone.
The horde that had once been rushing toward her had been wiped out in an instant.
Lena stared at the aftermath, her breath shallow.
The overwhelming sensation that had flooded her body just moments ago began to fade—like a dream slipping through her fingers.
The silence didn't last.
"Kiiiiiiikkaaaaaa!"
A guttural sound echoed from across the battlefield—wet and rattling, like meat grinding against bone.
The Vylemaw was laughing.
Its massive bulk shifted, dozens of limbs slithering across stone as it rose to its full, grotesque height. Its gaping maws stretched wide, jagged fangs gleaming with thick drool. The parasites that had once clustered around it now backed away, as if even they feared what came next.
Lena didn't flinch.
She could still feel traces of that overwhelming strength. It was slipping, yes—but enough remained.
Enough to finish this.
She stepped forward.
The ground cracked beneath her heel.
The Vylemaw surged in response, its entire body rippling forward in a wave of muscle and teeth. Its maws snapped open, aiming to devour her whole. Dozens of tendrils lashed out—jagged, barbed, dripping with venom.
Lena didn't retreat.
She charged.
A tendril flew toward her, but she ducked under it, the wind from its swipe slicing her cheek. Another whipped from the side—she caught it mid-swing, yanked it taut, then ripped it off with a twist of her wrist.
The Vylemaw shrieked, stumbling back—but Lena was already beneath it, her body blurring with motion.
She slammed a punch into its gut.
A shockwave burst outward.
The creature reeled, vomit and bile spraying from its side-maws. Flesh tore. Parasites flew.
Lena leapt, flipping through the air and landing atop its writhing back. Tendrils tried to reach her—but she sprinted across its spine, dodging and weaving between spasming limbs.
Another punch—this time to the base of its neck.
Bone snapped beneath her knuckles. The Vylemaw howled and thrashed, trying to dislodge her, but she clung tight, fingers digging into the folds of its flesh.
It reared up, slamming into the cavern wall—but she didn't let go.
She drove her elbow into the core of its upper spine, again, and again, and again, until the flesh gave way and black ichor exploded outward.
"Die. Already. Die."
Her voice trembled—not from fear, but from the sheer force she poured into each blow.
The beast screamed, flailing—but now it was desperation.
It could feel it too.
It was losing.
Lena jumped off its back and landed with a skid, her chest heaving, her fists dripping with gore.
The Vylemaw staggered toward her—half its body collapsed, maws wheezing, limbs twitching.
It lunged, slower now, clumsier.
Lena met it head-on.
No hesitation.
No wasted movement.
She slipped under its final strike, slid between its lunging jaws, and drove one last punch straight into its exposed throat.
A brutal, clean blow.
The kind you only throw when you know it's the end.
CRACK.
The Vylemaw froze.
Its maws hung open, trembling.
And then—collapsed.
Dead weight hit the ground like a meteor, shaking the chamber.
Lena stood over it, fists clenched, blood dripping from her arms.
Her breath was ragged.
Her body screamed in agony.
The power was leaving her.
But the memory of that powe...
That would stay with her forever.
And for the first time, she truly understood.
His talent.
His ability to push someone past their limits, to awaken something buried deep within—
It was terrifying.
And awe-inspiring.
Lena staggered slightly, her limbs trembling—not from exhaustion, but from the aftershock of what she had become.
Of what he had made possible.
She turned, her eyes landing on the boy again.
He wasn't moving.
The ground beneath him was dark with blood, and his face was pale, too pale. A thin trail of it leaked from the corner of his mouth, his breathing so shallow she had to focus to even see his chest rise.
Panic clawed at her heart.
"No—no, no, no, don't you dare."
He was dying.
But Lena wasn't about to let that happen.
Not now.
Not ever.
"Ugh.... Cough.... Cough!"
A sudden coughing voice snape back to her reality.
Instantly she turned her head and saw the unconscious boy was and was coughing blood, lots of blood.
In the blink of eye, She was next to him.
"Are you alright?"
****
[Rin's POV]
Damn.
Everything still hurt like fucking hell.
My entire body felt like it had been set on fire and doused with acid for good measure. Every breath made my chest feel like it was being squeezed by a vice.
...But at least I'm alive.
Barely.
It seemed I had blacked out, though only for a few seconds this time. Still, compared to last time—when I was unconscious for almost a day—it was an improvement.
If I'd used my ability without [Eternal Return], I would've been dead for sure.
I exhaled shakily, the taste of blood still thick on my tongue.
"...But at least it's over... for now."
"Are you alright?"
I heard Lena's voice cut through the haze. It sounded closer than I expected, soft but edged with worry.
Slowly, I turned my head, wincing at the sharp jolt of pain that flared through my neck.
I met her gaze and rasped out, "I'm not alright."
Her eyes widened, lips parting slightly, but before she could react—
"Ugh—!"
A sudden, violent cough tore through me, forcing more blood from my mouth. I curled in on myself instinctively, but my body screamed in protest. Agony surged through every fiber of my being. My vision blurred for a second, and I could hear Lena shouting something, but it was like her voice was underwater—muffled, distant.
I blinked, trying to refocus.
No good. Everything was tilting.
"Don't move," Lena said sharply, her hands pressing against my chest to keep me steady. "You're bleeding internally. You need healing. Now."
I tried to say something witty, maybe lighten the mood, but all that came out was a weak groan.
She was trembling. Not from fear, but from adrenaline—her fingers slick with my blood, her eyes scanning the surroundings like she expected another wave of monsters to leap out of the shadows.
But there was nothing left.
I'd seen to that.
We'd seen to that.
"…Did we win?" I asked hoarsely.
Lena let out a shaky breath, the corners of her mouth twitching into the faintest, most broken smile.
"You obliterated them. Then I did. I think we scared the whole damn dungeon."
"Nice…" I muttered. "Make sure someone writes that down."
"You're not dying," she snapped immediately, cutting off my attempt at humor. "You don't get to say your last words yet."
I would've laughed if I could.
Instead, I closed my eyes, just for a second.
Lena must've noticed, because the next thing I felt was her hand cupping my cheek.
"Stay awake, Rin. I mean it."
I opened my eyes again, barely, and nodded. "Trying."
I barely registered the alarmed gasp she let out.
Her hands hovered uncertainly near me, her eyes filled with helplessness.
"W-What do I do?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
I opened my mouth to answer, but more blood welled up. I clenched my jaw shut, forcing it back down.
And then—
—The familiar voice echoed in my head.
[—The Saint is touched by your self-sacrifice.]
[—Recovery rate is slightly increased.]
The blood that was threatening to spill from my lips suddenly stilled, sliding back down my throat as if it had been commanded.
My breathing slowed.
The searing pain dulled.
...The Oath of the Saint.
My eyes narrowed slightly in realization. The effect of the artifact had activated. It must've perceived my actions as an act of self-sacrifice and granted me its blessing.
I exhaled sharply, feeling the faint warmth of the artifact's magic coursing through me.
Strange...
I had assumed the Oath of the Saint only activated when worn. But it seemed that.…it remembered its last bearer. Or maybe it recognized intent.
Either way, it saved me.
Again.
I felt the warmth concentrate around my chest, slowly knitting broken vessels, numbing nerves, restoring breath. The pain was still there, but distant now, like a fire viewed through thick glass.
Lena noticed the change instantly. Her eyes widened as color returned to my face, and my breathing evened out just slightly.
"Rin…?"
I met her gaze, this time without flinching. "Better. Not fine, but… better."
Hah... lucky me.
The pain was still there, but it was bearable. I could breathe again.
Finally, for the first time since this hellish fight began, I felt like I might actually survive.
I let out a shaky breath.
"I'm alright now," I muttered, my voice barely above a rasp.
Lena's head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowing.
"That's impossible," she said flatly.
Her sharp glare would've been more convincing if her eyes weren't so red and puffy.
I sighed internally.
Right.
From her perspective, I had been rolling around and dying just a few seconds ago.
Now I was telling her I was "alright."
No wonder she looked like she wanted to punch me.
"Don't 'I'm alright' me," she snapped, voice cracking halfway through. "You were coughing blood. You stopped breathing for a full five seconds. You can't just—just say you're okay like that!"
I blinked at her, then offered a weak smile.
"…It's a talent."
"Not funny."
She looked furious. But she also looked like she might cry again if I pushed her even a little further.
So I didn't.
I stayed quiet.
Just breathing.
Letting the magic do its work.
The warmth from the Oath of the Saint was fading already—like a flame shrinking to an ember—but it had done enough. I could feel my insides slowly coming back together, my thoughts no longer buried under pain.
Lena leaned forward and pressed her forehead to mine, her breath shaky, her hands still trembling where they rested against my shoulders.
"You scared me, idiot," she whispered. "You really scared me."
I didn't know what to say to that.
Sorry? Thank you? I'm fine now?
None of it felt right.
"Tell me," she said suddenly, her voice low, "why did you do that?"
I blinked slowly, my mind still sluggish.
"Sorry?"
Her eyes narrowed further.
"Why did you come back when I told you to leave? Was there no exit on the other side of the portal?"
I hesitated, then shrugged weakly.
"Well... there was an exit," I admitted, my voice hoarse. "But I just couldn't leave you and run away alone."
Her lips parted slightly.
She stared at me, searching my face for something—for what, I wasn't sure.
For a brief moment, she seemed like she wanted to say something, but then she let out a slow, tired sigh instead.
"Y-You..." she started, then faltered, her voice catching. Finally, she shook her head and mumbled, "...Sigh. I understand."
But I could tell she didn't.
How could she?
She was undercover, after all—sent by the chairman to observe me. She knew I was a cadet at Velcrest Academy.
But out here, she was just Lena the hiker. Pretending she was some clueless traveler caught in the chaos.
And she thought I didn't know.
But of course, I did.
I knew exactly who she was.
And right now, I was using this moment to leave a very good impression on her.
Even if my body was wrecked.
Even if every breath still hurt like hell.
Even if I had to pretend I didn't know her true identity.
Because I needed her to trust me.
No—believe in me.
And if that meant playing the fool, pretending I was just another reckless cadet with a death wish... so be it.
Doing this would help me a lot in the future.
One that would help me later when classes started.
Because whether she liked it or not, she was going to remember this.
Lena sat there for a long second, her fingers still curled gently over my shoulder. Her expression was unreadable now—blank in a way that only people trained to hide their thoughts could pull off.
It was almost scary, how quickly the shift happened.
And then—
She smiled.
Faint. Soft. Real.
"You're an idiot," she said again, but this time, there was no edge in her voice.
Only something warm.
Maybe... even grateful.
I let my head drop back against the dirt, groaning faintly. "Yeah, well. I've been called worse."
"I bet you have."
She stood, finally pulling her hands away from me, and began checking the area. It was instinct—her training taking over again. She moved with fluid precision, scanning the surroundings, listening for sound, searching for threats.
The battle was over, but Lena didn't let herself relax.
Good.
Neither could I.
I wasn't out of the woods yet.
She turned back toward me after a few seconds. "We need to get out of here. Fast. You're still in no condition to walk, but if we wait too long, more Skreeches might show up—or worse."
I grimaced, pushing myself to sit up slightly.
My body screamed in protest, but I endured it.
"I can move," I muttered. "Just not fast."
Lena stared at me, then sighed again. "Then we do this the hard way."
Before I could ask what that meant, she crouched down, slid an arm under my knees and another behind my back, and lifted me with a grunt.
"Wha—hey! You don't have to carry me—!"
"Shut up," she snapped, adjusting her grip. "You saved me. I'm repaying the favor. Don't make this harder than it already is."
I was too stunned to argue.
Mostly because...
Holy crap, she was strong.
Just how far did her power-up go?
I rested my head against her shoulder, too tired to care anymore.
The pain was manageable now.
The danger had passed.
And even though I knew the questions would start soon—about the Skreeches, the portal, the source of my power—I didn't care.
Not right now.
Because as she carried me through the wreckage, bloodied and bruised but still breathing, I realized something.
She wasn't letting go.
Not just physically.
Not emotionally, either.
Lena was holding on.
To me.
And I had no intention of letting her slip away.
Not now.
Not ever.
"Let's get out of here."