One HP extra

Pain hit first.

Not sharp. Not loud. Just present. Like a thread tugging him back from the dark.

His eyes opened slowly.

Wooden ceiling. Cracked beams. A faint flicker of candlelight.

The scent—linens, dried herbs, and the iron bite of blood—cut through the haze.

He shifted slightly. Agony lanced down his side.

A groan escaped his lips.

Then footsteps.

"Finally," a sharp voice cut through the quiet.

Mira stood in the doorway. Not in a maid's apron—but field gear. Light armor. A belt of vials and blades. Her long black coat swept around her like a shadow.

Her eyes raked over him like a checklist.

"You're awake. Took you long enough."

Arman turned his head, breath ragged. "Could've let me sleep a bit longer…"

"You were asleep for nearly two days," she replied. "I used every potion we had, every salve, every trick I know just to stabilize you. You're lucky you didn't snap your heart from the backlash."

He looked down.

His arm was wrapped from shoulder to wrist. Bandages peeked beneath his tunic, tight around his ribs. One leg refused to move.

"…Still breathing," he muttered.

Mira crossed her arms. "Barely."

He blinked slowly. "Where are we?"

"Inn. Village called Stoneford, two hours south of the wreck. Quiet. Forgettable. The kind of place where no one asks questions."

"…The girl?"

Mira hesitated.

"She's alive," she said finally. "Weak. Malnourished. But she wouldn't leave your side at first. You should've seen the way she looked at me—like she'd bite my throat out."

Arman gave a faint, humorless smile. "She's tougher than she looks."

"She's a foxkin raised in the Hollow. Of course she is."

His hand twitched.

Then his voice dropped low. "Did she really… finish him?"

"Yes," Mira said. "You went down before the final blow. She picked up a dagger and finished it."

He stared at the ceiling.

"…Good."

"You could've died, Arman," she said, suddenly sharp. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't."

"No kidding."

He exhaled. "I kept a promise. That's all."

Her gaze softened—but only slightly. "And now what?"

Arman didn't answer right away.

He just looked down at his fingers.

And remembered the feeling of moving without thinking. Of his blade tearing through flesh with no control. Of his voice echoing back at him—empty, detached.

"…Now to figure out what the hell I became."

Mira left after making sure he could drink on his own.

Arman sat upright, alone in the quiet room, wrapped in silence and bandages.

The candle flickered on the nightstand.

Outside, the village murmured with the distant rhythm of rural life—buckets, hooves, birds.

He didn't hear any of it.

He felt… hollow.

His hands were cold. His breath shallow.

Auto-Battle.

He remembered what it felt like—being consumed by it. No emotion. No choice. Just instincts and dread. Just the need to win.

Even now, his muscles ached from the overuse. He hadn't fought with his skill.

He had fought like a cornered animal.

His shoulder twitched. The tendons protested.

He could still feel how his muscles had torn themselves to execute one more strike, how his heart had nearly stopped from the strain. The backlash hadn't just been physical—it had crushed his mind. His thoughts were only just beginning to return to normal.

And worst of all?

Part of him liked it.

That cold clarity.

That invincibility.

That refusal to die.

He didn't even remember most of what he'd done. Just flashes. Just blood.

It wasn't a skill. It was a hunger.

Something inhuman.

His hand trembled.

"What am I…?"

He looked down.

And there it was.

A faint flicker, hovering at the edge of his vision.

A system prompt.

[STATUS UPDATE AVAILABLE]

[Open Status?] [Yes] / [No]

[New Skill Awakening Detected]

[Vow Echo Resonance in Progress…]

He stared at it.

And reached forward.

Slowly—

He chose [Yes].

The System's glow blinked into view. Familiar. Comforting.

Almost like a sigh in the back of his skull.

[STATUS WINDOW – ARMAN DROS]

Level: 2 ↑

HP: 20/20

Mana: 12/12

Primary Attributes:

• Strength: Bronze (Low → Mid)

• Dexterity: Bronze (Mid → High)

• Intelligence: Iron (High)

• Constitution: Bronze (Low → Mid)

• ???: Hidden

• ???: Hidden

[SKILLS]

• Feral Flow Lv. 1 → 2

→ Instinctive chaining improved. Combative reflexes heightened in response to emotional duress. Slight boost to evasion.

• Partial Auto-Battle (1/1 Use Available – Cooldown Pending)

→ Dormant function activated at HP: 1. Instinctual combat override achieved. Battle memory will remain fragmented. Full Awakening requirements unmet.

• Trapcraft Lv. 1 → 2

→ Increased effectiveness of basic mechanical traps. Improvised elements receive synergy bonuses when combined with terrain.

• Crude Poison Handling Lv. 1 (Unchanged)

• Weapon Improvisation Lv. 1 → 2

→ Allows use of environmental weapons with up to 40% efficiency scaling compared to base weapon.

• Sword Proficiency Lv. 4 → 5

→ Minor damage increase with all bladed weapons. Reduced stamina consumption on repeated swings.

• Parry Lv. 3 → 4

→ Increased success threshold when facing opponents of higher Strength tier.

• [NEW] Echo Blade Style: Dread Fang (Passive – Linked)

→ Activated during Auto-Battle. A savage, reactive sword form prioritizing lethal, overwhelming strikes. Only accessible when emotional resonance and Vow Echo conditions align.

[ITEMS SYNCHRONIZED]

• Ego Sword: Nameless Fang

— Weapon Rank: Silver (Dormant)

— Personality: Bound (Unresponsive)

— Hidden Synergy: Detected (Emotion-based unlock conditions unmet)

— Awakening: 6% [???]

[VOW ECHOES]

1. Vow Echo: Refusal to Die (Glitched / Unique)

— Origin: Self

— Description: A vow born not of love, but defiance. Enables survival through broken thresholds.

— Effects: Auto-Battle Trigger, Echo-Linked Sword Art Unlock, +Mental Fortitude

2. Vow Echo: Embers of Trust (Origin: Kyra)

— Classification: Low Resonance / Early Bond

— Description: A flicker of trust formed in the crucible of violence. Not yet friendship. Not yet love. Just a thread.

— Effects: +45% Stat increase when defending Kyra.

— Synergy Unlocked: Shared Resolve [Locked – Requires Mutual Trust]

3. Vow Slots Remaining: 6/7

— System Note: Only one Vow Echo may be active in combat at a time. Auto-Battle may override selection.

[UNSPENT SYSTEM POINTS: 3]

— Allocate?

Yes / No

Arman closed his eyes against the light of the screen, breathing slow, mind whirring through the details.

It was more than he'd expected.

He hadn't just survived. He'd gotten stronger. His body… his skills… even his presence. It was evolving.

No — not evolving.

Refining.

Everything he'd done — the fight, the pain, the fear — it had changed something in him on a core level. He wasn't growing the way a normal adventurer might. He wasn't killing goblins and checking boxes.

His system wasn't designed to level by grind.

It was designed to break and rebuild.

Every fight a forge. Every choice a hammer.

And still — only Level 2.

He let that hang for a moment, almost bitterly.

"Two levels. After surviving a troll. A band of mercs. A war criminal with aura. Still two."

But the stats didn't lie.

He wasn't weak anymore.

And he wasn't ordinary either.

He scanned back down the Echo list. The name caught his eye again:

Embers of Trust

Kyra.

Her face flashed in his memory — blood-smeared, golden-eyed, hunched over him like a shield. Arms wrapped tight, like he was something fragile worth keeping.

"She stayed."

He hadn't asked her to.

He wouldn't have.

But she did.

And that had been enough to unlock a piece of something deeper in the system. A connection. A tether.

Not love.

Not yet.

But trust.

Just enough to light a fuse.

The door suddenly flung open and something came crashing into me.