One HP extra

The Fallen Sanctum was buried in silence.

Not the kind that came from emptiness, but the kind that pressed in from every angle—ancient, suffocating, waiting.

Kyra stood beside Arman at the edge of the circular stone platform, her arms folded tightly beneath her cloak. Above them, jagged roots dangled from the ceiling like skeletal fingers. Below: darkness. Deep. Endless.

She looked uneasy.

"So… where's the door?" she asked.

Arman didn't answer right away. He took slow, deliberate steps toward a cracked tomb marker. The stone had long since eroded, but the faint symbol etched into its center still gleamed with something faint and celestial—like the night sky frozen in time.

He pulled a shovel from his pack.

Kyra blinked. "You're kidding."

"This is the door," he said calmly, stabbing the shovel into the dirt in front of the grave. "We dig."

Kyra's ears twitched. "That's what you bought those for?"

He didn't respond. Earth shifted as he struck again, harder. The soil had been untouched for years, but it gave way fast—like something wanted to be found.

"You sure this is a good idea?" she asked. "It doesn't feel right here."

"It isn't." Arman kept digging. "This place wasn't made for grave robbers or relic hunters. It's a trial site. A sealed zone. This tomb was just the lock."

She watched him in silence as he reached the bottom of the shallow grave.

Stone clunked.

He crouched and brushed aside the remaining dirt, revealing a circular pressure plate—old but intact. The moment his fingers brushed it, the sigils along the stone floor flared to life.

A soft pulse. Then a deep mechanical rumble.

The platform beneath their feet began to descend.

Kyra clutched the side of the rail-less disk, her eyes wide. "We're going down?"

Arman nodded. "This tomb doesn't open from the outside. You're either invited in… or you're not getting out."

The descent lasted nearly a minute. The tunnel walls passed in slow silence—runes flickering past them like the memory of stars. When the platform finally stopped, it did so with a hiss of pressurized steam.

Before them stretched a single hallway of polished black stone. There were no torches, yet it was lit—faintly—from cracks in the walls that bled gentle silver light.

Arman's steps were slow but sure.

"You've been here before?" Kyra asked, glancing around warily.

"In a way."

The scent of ancient rot clung to the air as they entered the burial chamber.

Ragged tapestries lined the cracked stone walls, too tattered to show their original form. Arman's boots scraped against a dusty mosaic floor, its faded etchings depicting celestial symbols—stars falling from the sky, warriors kneeling before a central figure with hollow eyes.

Kyra frowned. "Where's the monster?"

"I didn't say it would be waiting for us."

She squinted, stepping in behind him. "But it is waiting, right?"

He didn't answer. Just scanned the shadows at the far end of the circular hall, where a blackened altar stood ringed with long-dead braziers. A slow breath left him.

Then the sound came.

A dragging, scraping echo—like bone on stone.

Kyra stepped closer to him instinctively. "That's not natural."

"No," Arman murmured. "It's not."

From behind the altar, something emerged.

Twisted and skeletal, yet taller than a man. Bone and sinew fused into an unnatural frame, swathed in tattered remnants of priestly robes. Its ribs stretched outward like jagged spears. Where eyes should have been, there were two sunken pits filled with whispering, flickering light.

It carried no weapon.

It didn't need one.

Kyra stiffened. "That's the thing guarding the relic?"

"It's not a guardian," Arman said quietly. "It's a prisoner, a failed experiment"

The creature lifted its head and shrieked.

The walls shook.

Dust poured from the ceiling.

And then it charged.

Arman didn't move.

He waited.

Waited…

Now.

He sidestepped just before the creature's claw swept where his chest had been, dragging his sword across its exposed spine as it passed. Bone hissed against steel. It howled, skidding to a halt and twisting around like something puppeteered.

Kyra called out, "Tell me you've got a plan!"

"I do," he grunted, ducking another strike. "Don't get hit."

She bared her teeth. "Real helpful!"

The creature's claw shot toward her.

He didn't think—just moved.

His body slammed into hers, shoving her aside as the bony spear-hand drove into the floor where she'd stood. A shockwave cracked the stone outward in a web pattern.

Arman groaned, already back on his feet, sword drawn again.

I could use it, he thought as the creature paced in a circle. That single-use trigger. It'd finish this before I blacked out.

But he clenched his jaw and dismissed the thought.

No. I only have one use left—and I don't know when I'll get another. If it brings me to one HP again, I might not come back next time. If something goes wrong during the academy trials…

No. I can't rely on it.

This had to be done with his own hands.

He took another breath and shifted his stance.

Time to fight smart.

He feinted left.

The creature lunged.

He slid beneath its arm, dragging his sword across the back of its knee joint. Bone splintered. It stumbled.

Arman didn't give it time to recover.

He shouted to Kyra, "You see that exposed rib? The curved one?"

"Yeah?"

"That's where the core is. Hit it if you get the chance!"

She growled and sprinted around the outer rim of the room, tail lashing. The creature's head twitched to follow her, distracted.

Perfect.

He rushed forward and drove his shoulder into its leg again, knocking it off balance just long enough for Kyra to throw a stone—not a weapon, just a small chunk of rubble—directly into the exposed bone seam he'd pointed out.

The creature reeled with a screech that cut through the chamber.

Arman seized the moment.

He gripped a fallen torch stand, jammed it under the monster's arched back, and vaulted over it. While above, he twisted midair and slammed his sword down into its shoulder joint.

It didn't pierce cleanly—but it wedged deep enough to give him leverage.

He twisted.

The bone cracked.

The limb fell limp.

The monster shrieked again and lashed blindly with the other hand, striking him across the ribs. Arman flew backward, hit a pillar, and crumpled.

Everything rang.

But he forced himself to stand.

Blood dripped from his side.

"Arman—!" Kyra called.

He raised a hand. "Still good."

Mostly.

The creature turned toward Kyra now, dragging its broken limb like dead weight. She backed toward the wall, claws out, eyes burning—but not foolish enough to engage directly.

It started stalking.

"Don't," Arman whispered. "You turn your back on me, you die."

He took one step. Then another. Forced his breath to stay even, despite the pain.

The creature hesitated.

It turned again—toward him.

He smiled.

"Come on, freak. Let's dance."

The creature roared.

Dust rained from the chamber ceiling. Its half-broken frame moved with jarring, unnatural speed—bones snapping into new angles, its joints grinding with every step.

Kyra shouted, "It's healing!"

"No." Arman staggered forward, sword dragging along the ground. "It's adapting."

It was faster now.

Smarter.

Its core—the shard embedded in its chest cavity—pulsed brighter than before, like a heartbeat under bone.

Arman's muscles ached. His ribs screamed with every breath. His blade felt heavier than it had ten minutes ago. But he still forced his legs forward.

This wasn't a battle of strength.

It was survival.

And timing.

He dodged another claw swipe by inches, then rolled forward and struck upward—but the monster twisted mid-motion and backhanded him into a crumbling column.

Stone cracked. Air left his lungs.

"Arman!" Kyra dashed in, claws bared.

"No—stay back!" he wheezed.

But it was too late.

The creature turned, massive arm sweeping toward her like a pendulum of death.

Kyra jumped—

—but not fast enough.

A claw caught her side, dragging her through the air and slamming her against the far wall.

She didn't get up.

Arman's breath caught in his throat.

His vision tunneled. The pain in his chest vanished, replaced by a cold fire in his blood.

A chime echoed in his mind.

[PROTECTIVE INSTINCT: VOW TRIGGERED]

Vow of the First Companion Echo: Kyra

– Activating Conditional Trait: "Bloodbound Response"

– All base stats increased by 40% while defending the bound

– Duration: Until threat is neutralized

His body surged forward.

The pain returned—but dulled, distant. His arms moved faster, legs stronger, breath deeper.

Everything sharpened.

The creature turned toward him too late.

Arman's blade swept in a clean arc and carved through the side of its skull, sending the jawbone spinning across the floor.

It reeled back, shrieking.

He didn't let up.

[STAT MODIFIER – ACTIVE]

Strength: Bronze (Low) → Bronze (High)

Dexterity: Bronze (Mid) → Silver (Low)

Constitution: Bronze (Low) → Bronze (Mid)

Intelligence: Iron (High) (Unaffected)

[Other stats: ??? – Locked]

Arman didn't read the rest. He didn't need to.

He was already moving.

He sidestepped another slash, dropped into a slide, and swept its leg from under it. The monster crashed onto its back—limbs flailing like an insect turned upside-down.

He leapt onto its chest, driving his sword toward the glowing shard—but it raised its arm to block.

Too late.

Arman shifted grip, drove the blade under its ribs—through the seam Kyra had exposed earlier—and into the core from the side.

The blade stopped.

Then the shard cracked.

The creature convulsed violently. It shrieked, the sound layered—like a hundred voices crying at once.

Arman gritted his teeth and pressed harder.

The light within the shard pulsed, then shattered in a burst of blinding brilliance.

The Undying Watcher gave one last, shuddering groan—

Then fell still.

Silence returned.

The sound of blood dripping from his blade was the only thing left.

Arman collapsed beside the monster, panting, eyes flickering. His body screamed at him, even with the temporary stat boost.

The trait deactivated.

His muscles locked up.

He crawled.

Toward Kyra.

She was still conscious—barely.

She looked up at him, blood dripping from the side of her mouth. "Did… did we win?"

He nodded, breathless.

Her hand touched his, her voice hoarse. "You used something… didn't you?"

He hesitated.

Then said softly, "I told you I'd keep you safe."

He reached out to pat her head, and stroked it gently as he brought her head to his chest.

Her eyes fluttered closed. "Only you're allowed to pet me, you know…"

He blinked, confused.

Then realized she was smiling—just faintly—before she lost consciousness.

Arman sat there for a moment, watching her breathe.

Then a chime echoed once again in his mind.

[OBJECTIVE COMPLETE – RARE PHYSIQUE RELIC ACQUIRED]

Location: Hollow Star Basin

Access Unlocked: Hidden Chamber Behind Altar

Reward: "Heart of the Hollow Star" – Ready for Integration

Optional: Delay Assimilation for Recovery

He turned slowly to the back wall.

A part of the wall had cracked open in the blast—revealing a descending path, and beyond it… the glimmer of soft blue light. Like starlight rippling beneath water.

He exhaled shakily.

"The hard part's just begun."