One HP extra

The door of the tomb groaned shut behind them with a finality that echoed into silence.

Arman stepped into the waning daylight, breath fogging despite the warmth. Kyra trailed just behind, brushing dust from her boots. Her hood was down, her ears flat—not out of fear, but relief. They'd survived again.

She tilted her head toward him as they descended the hillside. "So… was that the easy one?"

He gave her a tired smile. "Relatively speaking? Yes."

She narrowed her eyes. "So the next one's harder?"

He nodded. "Critical danger rating."

Kyra sighed. "Of course it is. Alright, where?"

Arman paused to draw the system window into his vision, and though she couldn't see it, she recognized the shift in his gaze.

[Objective 3: Obtain Rare Physique – "Heart of the Hollow Star"]

Location: Ruins of the Fallen Sanctum, Outer Ring

Danger Rating: Critical

Reward: Constitution Enhancement | Adaptive Body Remodeling | ??? Trait Awakening

He spoke the words aloud, slowly. "Ruins of the Fallen Sanctum. Outer ring."

Kyra folded her arms. "Sounds like it'll be full of ghosts and horrible things."

"It will be."

Her voice lowered, thoughtful. "So what now?"

Arman looked ahead, toward the dusty road winding back into the forest trail. "We head back to the city. Carriage, then an inn. We rest one day. Tomorrow we leave."

Kyra nodded. "Fair."

They didn't talk much on the return path. Their feet were sore, bodies bruised, and the air carried that after-battle stillness—neither triumphant nor grim. Just quiet.

By the time they reached the outpost's small transit station, the sun was low enough to bleed violet into the sky. A lone conductor stood beside a battered long-cart pulled by two sturdy tarran-beasts.

The man raised a brow at their dusty appearance. "Headin' back to the south fork?"

"Cityside inn," Arman replied. "One night."

The man gestured them in. "You two don't look like you've slept in a week. Lucky they reopened the line—bandits've been thinned out."

Arman gave a noncommittal grunt and climbed in. Kyra followed, curling against the far side of the bench. The carriage rumbled forward.

Kyra's tail flicked idly as she stared out the window. Her nose pressed against the glass like a curious child.

"I really can't get enough of these carriages."

Arman watched the way her ears twitched at every change in rhythm. The subtle movements. Her breath fogged the glass just slightly.

He lifted a hand, slow and deliberate, and gently patted her head.

Kyra froze.

Then, after a beat, her tail wagged once. Then again.

She kept quiet, not looking at him.

Arman smirked and said "I can definitely get used to this"

She smiled faintly—small, but genuine.

The ride continued in companionable quiet. Occasionally the conductor mentioned events from the capital—a rising flood of prodigies heading toward the academy entrance exam. An elven princess with a phoenix contract. A human noble whose bloodline magic had awakened early.

"This year's gonna be different," he said from up front. "Too many heavy hitters. Even the kingdoms are watching."

Arman said nothing. But Kyra's gaze found his profile in the dark and stayed there.

He wasn't one of them. Not yet.

But he would be.

They reached the inn just past nightfall. A small, clean place with stone walls and shuttered windows. Mira had arranged their room in advance, two beds, left coin for hot water and meals.

As they stepped inside, Kyra tossed her hood back and yawned. "We rest, then leave at dawn?"

"Dawn," Arman confirmed.

Inside the room, she washed her hands in the basin, dried them carefully. Her clothes were loose, and her tail curled tighter than usual as she slipped under the covers on the bed.

Kyra hesitated, then said with a flick of her ears, "I don't… like sleeping alone."

He looked over his shoulder. "You don't have to."

She blinked. "Really?"

He nodded. "Just rest."

Arman took the far side.

A moment passed. Then her voice came, small but clear.

"…Can I…?"

He didn't answer, just opened his arms slightly.

She moved in.

Her head rested against his chest, tail wrapping gently around his waist like a living ribbon. He could feel her exhale—long, slow, grounding.

And he stayed still.

Her warmth seeped into him. The tension he didn't realize he still carried slowly unwound. His eyes closed.

But his thoughts did not.

The next ruin was different. Older. More dangerous. He'd read the data back in the system logs, buried deep in the old savefiles from his original playthrough. The Hollow Star relic wasn't just a test of will. It altered the body—rewrote parts of it.

If he failed the trial, he might not walk out whole.

And this time, Auto-Battle wouldn't save him. This wasn't about instincts. It was about enduring pain, disassembling the self and rebuilding from inside out.

He had one day to prepare.

One day left before everything changed.

…

Dawn came too soon

…

Arman woke to sunlight filtering through the shutters and the weight of Kyra sprawled half on top of him. At some point in the night, she'd kicked off the blankets, leaving her legs tangled with his, her undershirt twisted and barely covering her chest.

He swallowed hard.

She stirred, nuzzling sleepily against his shoulder before blinking up at him.

"...Morning," she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"Morning." His own sounded rougher than he'd intended.

Kyra stretched—slow, languid, entirely too aware of the way his gaze tracked the movement. Her shirt slipped further, revealing the curve of one breast, the dusky pink peak just barely hidden.

"See something you like?" she repeated, grinning.

This time, Arman didn't look away.

"Maybe."

Her breath hitched.

For a long moment, neither moved. Then, slowly, Kyra leaned in—

—only for a loud knock at the door to shatter the tension.

"Up, you two!" Mira's voice carried through the wood. "Carriage leaves in an hour!"

Kyra groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. "I hate her."

Arman chuckled, dragging a hand down his face. "Later."

She caught his wrist before he could rise. "Promise?"

He met her gaze—golden, hopeful, his—and nodded.

"Promise."