With a sigh of relief, Saryntha muttered, "So, he's down," softly discarding her sword. Her breath came in ragged gasps as the pain from her injuries consumed her. Each inhale grew more bored. She clung to the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, she might survive a little longer—but could she, with wounds like these?

  She forced a bitter smile, realizing her legs were pinned beneath the massive weight of the tree. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t call for help. And even if someone came, who would answer for a failure like her? A weakling who couldn't even complete the final task.

  "Am I the only one who fails?" The thought lingered like an iron weight in her chest. "Why does everything fall apart just when there’s a sliver of hope? Why does it always vanish, despite all the effort? Why can’t I be acknowledged?"

  A small realization crept in, bitter and cold. "Wasn't he right? Do I deserve this? I've never been a good person. I couldn’t help anyone in return, couldn’t even stand tall. Just a coward. Is that all I am?"

  Her breath grew more erratic as the bleeding worsened. She couldn’t think clearly anymore. Her vision blurred.

  She tried to speak, her voice barely a whisper, "I... don’t wanna die... here."

  Was that it? Was it the end for her journey? But it wasn't long since she earned her pce here after being out of pce for long enough. Unlike where she was a mismatch in the pce back then...