Mirai sat before the physician, who appeared calm and focused. He carefully examined her injury, then began chanting healing spells, raising his hands over the wound and attempting to transfer healing energy into her body.

  After a few moments of intense concentration, the physician noticed something strange—the magic was having no noticeable effect.

  "This is unusual," he muttered, attempting again without success. Each attempt met failure.

  "Your injury isn't normal. Something unusual is preventing the healing," the doctor said, clearly concerned. He added apologetically, "I'm sorry, this is the first time I've encountered something like this."

  "It's fine," Mirai responded impassively and exited the clinic.

  Outside, she examined her wound with a cautious expression. Then she slowly sighed, whispering to herself, "You've truly done it, Iris. Neither medicine nor healing magic will work on me. It seems I've ended up in a worse situation than I expected. The injury is minor, but from now on, any serious mistake could be fatal."

  She also realized her sword, upon which she'd depended, wasn't meant for continuous use. Three minutes—that was all she had.

  Mirai stood motionless, placing her hand thoughtfully beneath her chin as she gazed up at the sky. It was clear now that her condition was far more complicated than it appeared. She couldn't rely on medicine or healing magic, and she knew another injury could genuinely threaten her life. It felt like a dangerous game, where each error could be her last.

  Yet deep within, she felt that familiar rush of excitement, an enthusiasm that nothing could extinguish. For Mirai, refraining from battle was like living without purpose. Ever since her exile from the demon kingdom, arriving in human territories, she'd sought not just survival but the thrill of life's challenges—the moments that made her feel truly alive.

  She recalled countless dangers she'd faced and moments from which she'd miraculously emerged. Mirai wasn't merely an adventurer; she was a warrior seeking meaning through every confrontation, every obstacle she faced. Being an exiled demon princess wasn't a reason to retreat; rather, it was a challenge compelling her to prove her worth. For her, ceasing to fight was akin to surrender, something she'd never accept.

  Breathing deeply, she clenched her fist tightly. "If Iris did this to force me into giving up, she truly doesn’t know me well. I'll never stop fighting."

  With this renewed mindset, Mirai looked around confidently, her resolve solidified. Fighting was part of her, an intrinsic aspect of her identity as a demon princess—something beyond debate. She would become more cautious, but the excitement coursing through her veins would never fade.

  She then headed back to the weapon shop where she’d sold the diamond shard. As she entered, the merchant—who remembered her clearly—greeted her with a warm smile.

  "Welcome back. How may I assist you today?" he asked, slightly bowing.

  "I’m looking for a sword," Mirai replied plainly.

  She browsed through shelves full of weapons, her experienced eyes swiftly shifting from one blade to another. She sought something fitting her strength, reliable enough for upcoming battles. The merchant proudly showcased a selection of swords.

  "I have some rare swords here, forged from the finest metals. This sword, for instance, was crafted atop a distant volcanic mountain."

  But Mirai, with a dry expression, looked at the weapons in front of her and thought silently: "All of these are mere junk. I can’t believe humans fight with such weak weapons."

  She sighed in disappointment, continuing internally: "I have no other choice. I’ll have to fight with one of these." Reluctantly, she bought the cheapest sword available.

  Looking back at the merchant, she asked quietly, "By the way, do you have anything I can use to start a fire?"

  The merchant nodded, heading toward a shelf at the back. He returned with a small box containing magical gems, offering one to her. "This magic gem contains a fire spell. Just press it while thinking of fire, and a flame will appear."

  Mirai took the gem, examining it briefly, then nodded and handed over some coins as payment. "This will suffice," she said flatly, placing the gem in her pocket without further comment.

  The merchant smiled warmly. "I hope everything serves you well. Good luck."

  Mirai quietly left the shop. She decided to head toward the dungeon again, pondering how she'd use the gem to solve the issue of her wound. To her, it was simply a necessary practical step for survival.

  Outside the city, Mirai stopped in a quiet, secluded place away from prying eyes. She sat down calmly, pulled out the magical gem, and the sword she'd purchased.

  Focusing her energy, she pressed the gem until a small flame emerged. Holding the sword over the fire, she waited until its tip glowed bright red.

  She glanced at her exposed wound, slowly raising the hot blade and pressing the glowing tip against the injury.

  Mirai felt little pain due to her high endurance. Smoke rose gently as the wound cauterized shut. After a few moments, she slowly lifted the sword away. The injury was now sealed, its edges burned and closed. She knew this crude action was what would keep her alive.

  She briefly examined the now-closed wound before putting the sword aside. There was no time to dwell on pain; it was merely another step toward regaining control.

  ***

  While Mirai explored the dungeon, the air grew damp and heavy, the narrow passages filled with the scent of mold and rust. Her quiet footsteps were barely audible as she approached groups of weak monsters near the dungeon’s entrance. Without hesitation, she drew the ordinary sword and dashed toward them. Her strikes were swift and sharp; the monsters posed no significant threat, falling effortlessly before her blade.

  However, midway through, she sensed something strange. Her grip on the ordinary sword didn’t feel right. It was as if part of her usual strength was missing. She paused briefly, looking at the sword in her hand. "Even without using my real sword, they're still worthless," she muttered softly, frowning. She hadn't felt threatened by any of the monsters she'd faced thus far.

  Descending deeper, the dungeon’s environment became increasingly hazardous. The cracked floors beneath her feet emitted faint sounds with each cautious step. Here, she encountered a large group of massive monsters. Calmly and effortlessly, she pulled out her original sword from beneath the sleeve of her kimono.

  In a swift motion, she launched precise attacks. Her strikes were definitive, leaving no room for resistance or survival. Within seconds, the battle ended.

  She continued descending several floors without further excitement, eventually deciding to return to the surface out of sheer boredom. With each floor she ascended, her boredom intensified. After climbing a few more floors, her gaze casually swept across the worn floors and walls when suddenly, a small bag on the ground caught her attention.

  Momentarily, her thoughts halted upon seeing the bag—as if something mysterious deep within urged her to pause. An unusual energy emanated from it, a combination of magical and spiritual force. Yet resisting curiosity proved easier than surrendering to that feeling. Shaking her head dismissively, she proceeded onward.

  A creeping boredom continued to consume her heart. "This is truly dull," she sighed softly. "Even after losing my magic, my physical strength remains formidable. No one can stand against me if I use my real sword." Her voice barely echoed in the silent dungeon.

  Exiting the dungeon, a desperate voice drew her attention from near the entrance:

  "Please, I'm begging you!"

  Mirai Turning her gaze, she saw a young man around nineteen, disheveled white hair and anxious eyes, pleading with a group of adventurers who appeared indifferent to his pleas.

  "My bag... It's very important! I can't leave it behind!" the young man begged desperately.

  One member, a sharp-featured man with short black hair, sighed wearily, "I can't risk going back there. We barely survived this time."

  Another member, a young man with prominent eyes, harshly added, "You were a hindrance the entire way. We suffered because of you. You're the worst healer I've ever seen!"

  The only girl in the group said contemptuously, "You can't defend, attack, or even heal yourself. Have you lost your mind thinking you'd ever become an adventurer?"

  The three walked away, ignoring the young man's desperate pleas. They seemed utterly unconcerned about his fate. Mirai, silently observing the scene, remembered the bag she had seen inside the dungeon. However, she showed no particular interest and moved toward the city.

  ---

  Returning to the inn, Mirai lay back on the bed, thoughts drifting to the bag she'd seen. Something about it felt strange—a mysterious sensation continued to haunt her. She stared at the ceiling, trying to analyze the odd feeling that swept over her when she first saw the bag.

  "What was emanating from it?" she whispered softly. "An unusual energy—a blend of magic and spiritual force. But what truly disturbed me was the strength of that spiritual energy. It was far stronger than my own, even when using my real sword. How could something like that belong to an ordinary young man?"

  Her memory returned to the young man desperately begging the adventurers to retrieve his bag. His weary gaze lingered vividly in her mind, his trembling voice, as though his entire life depended on that bag. No one else had seemed to care, but Mirai felt differently. "That bag must carry more importance than it seems."

  Slowly, the idea of returning to the dungeon crept into her mind. The energy surrounding that bag was anything but ordinary—and she knew now that ignoring it was no longer an option.

  ***

  The following morning, with the first light of dawn creeping into the sky, Mirai stood once again before the entrance to the fortified dungeon. She noticed the white-haired young man lying next to the cold stone wall, his features weary and his sleep clearly uncomfortable.

  Mirai took a deep breath and passed him quietly, her steps calm and confident. She entered the dark corridors of the dungeon, where silence reigned and the air was thick with tension.

  She descended several floors. When she reached the spot where she had previously seen the bag, she stopped for a moment. It was still there—untouched.

  This time, she decided to approach it, cautiously. Drawing her original sword, she gently placed her hand on the bag. Its texture was rough, and unexpectedly heavy. When she tried to lift it, she was stunned by its weight—it was far heavier than it appeared.

  She paused, surprise flashing across her face. It didn’t make sense for an ordinary bag to be this heavy.

  "What could this thing be holding? I can’t even lift it..." she whispered to herself in disbelief, stepping back.

  She stood still for a moment, processing the situation. Eventually, she decided to leave the bag and return to the surface. But now, her curiosity had become undeniable.

  As she exited the dungeon, she saw the young man who had been sleeping earlier. He was now sitting upright, looking even more exhausted than she had expected. His eyes were filled with worry, and he rubbed them slowly, not yet aware of her presence.

  Mirai stopped for a moment, watching him. Then she approached quietly and said in a soft voice, "Good morning, young man."

  He slowly lifted his head, his tired eyes meeting hers for a brief moment.

  "Good morning..." he replied faintly, surprised by her approach.

  Mirai looked at him calmly and said, "Yesterday I heard you speaking with your companions about a certain bag. I saw that bag while I was returning to the surface. It seemed important to you. Would you like me to help you retrieve it?"

  The young man froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly in disbelief. He didn’t say a word at first. After a moment of silence, he finally replied, still sounding surprised, "You… you’ll help me? Really?" His voice trembled slightly, as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe what was happening. "I didn’t expect anyone would offer help…"

  After collecting himself, he added with concern, "You just came out of the dungeon… aren’t you tired?"

  Mirai smiled confidently and said, "I have more than enough strength. I reached the twenty-fifth floor alone. The bag is on the tenth floor."

  A spark of hope lit up in the young man’s eyes. "Thank you. I truly need to get that bag back."

  Mirai studied his exhausted face, trying to read the sincerity in his expression, then asked, "What’s your name? I’m Mirai."

  "I’m Hikari. Pleased to meet you," he replied.

  "Let’s go," Mirai said simply.

  Hikari hesitated slightly, as if something was holding him back. She could see the hesitation in his eyes before he quietly said, "Excuse me, Miss Mirai, but… there’s something I should tell you. I can’t fight."

  She gave him a reassuring smile and replied with confidence, "Don’t worry. I can protect you. Do you have any magic?"

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  He nodded. "Yes, I have healing magic."

  Mirai smirked faintly and muttered to herself, "Well, it’s not like I was going to rely on it."

  She began walking toward the entrance, speaking with calm assurance: "Just stay behind me. I’ll handle the monsters."

  Hikari nodded once more and quietly followed her. They descended through the twisting corridors, Mirai in the lead and Hikari trailing closely. Whenever they encountered monsters, Mirai would raise her sword and strike them down without hesitation. Her raw power and precision left Hikari watching in awe—his only role was to stay within the protective radius she carved for him.

  Eventually, they reached the tenth floor. Mirai once again stood before the bag and turned to Hikari. "Is this the bag you were looking for?"

  Hikari’s face lit up with relief, his eyes shimmering with gratitude. "Yes, that’s the one."

  He stepped forward confidently, placed his hands on the bag, and—surprisingly—lifted it effortlessly, as if it weighed nothing. Mirai stood still for a moment, her expression slightly stunned. How could he lift something she herself couldn't even move?

  But she said nothing. She simply watched silently. Once Hikari had confirmed the bag was intact, he turned to her with a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Miss Mirai. I owe you a great debt."

  "It’s fine. Let’s get back to the surface," she replied, her earlier surprise now fading.

  The two began ascending the floors. Hikari carried the bag while Mirai scanned their surroundings with sharp eyes. After several floors, Mirai began to notice something strange. She whispered to herself, "Something’s not right…"

  Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet glowed with a strange light—before a magical vortex exploded beneath them. In an instant, both were swallowed into its depths, unable to react in time.

  When they regained consciousness, a foul stench filled their nostrils. The place was entirely unfamiliar—surrounded by blackened stone and cracked walls on every side.

  Before them stood savage monsters, their red eyes glowing with ferocity.

  In a flash, the beasts charged at them, their stomping echoing like thunder. But Mirai was faster—she drew her original blade and moved like a silent storm, slicing through the monsters with deadly grace. Within moments, they were all slain, not a scratch on her body.

  Hikari stood behind her, speechless. He couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. Mirai’s speed and strength were inhuman. Monsters that usually required entire parties to defeat fell before her like autumn leaves.

  Once the battle was over, she turned to him, her footsteps light against the rocky ground. Her eyes never lost focus. She asked calmly, "Do you know what just happened?"

  Still trying to grasp the situation, Hikari replied anxiously, avoiding her gaze, "We’ve triggered a magic trap."

  Mirai raised an eyebrow. "A trap? I haven’t seen anything like that before. How does it work exactly?"

  Hikari hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and explained, "It’s called a ‘Transfer Trap.’ It changes location randomly between floors. We weren’t lucky today—it randomly sent us to one of the deeper levels."

  He then raised his hand toward the monsters Mirai had just slain and added with growing concern, "Judging by the monsters you just killed… we’re probably on the forty-seventh floor." His voice was filled with a mix of regret and anxiety.

  He stared at the ground for a moment, then said quietly, his voice heavy with guilt, "I’m sorry. This happened because of me. If I hadn’t—"

  Mirai cut him off. "I offered to help you. There’s no need for regret. We’ll be fine. Just stay behind me." Her confidence was unwavering, nothing seemed capable of shaking her. Then she asked, "Have you been to this floor before?"

  Hikari answered, "No. I’ve only read about this dungeon. But I have information on all the monsters in every floor."

  "That will be useful. Let’s move," Mirai said.

  She advanced forward, her steps firm yet cautious. The forty-seventh floor was enveloped in a suffocating darkness, where even the air felt heavy. The walls seemed to watch them, and shadows moved oddly across every surface. Yet none of it deterred Mirai, whose movements were filled with purpose.

  Hikari followed her in silence, eyes wide as he watched monsters fall under her blade as if they were nothing but ghosts. When they reached the fortieth floor, he suddenly spoke—his voice quiet, yet marked with warning, "Stop."

  Mirai halted immediately, her eyes shifting calmly as she turned to look at him. "What is it?" she asked.

  Hikari answered, clearly concerned, his gaze fixed on the ground around them as if reading something invisible: "You need to be careful. This floor is extremely dangerous."

  Mirai raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet cautious. "What’s down here?"

  Hikari took a deep breath before replying, as if even uttering the name weighed on his tongue.

  "The boss of this floor is called *The Flickering Phantom*. A mysterious and dangerous entity. It has an incredible ability to move at unimaginable speeds, appearing and disappearing in an instant—making its location impossible to predict. It has killed many adventurers with a single strike. And the worst part... it can destroy weapons."

  Mirai felt a strange twinge deep inside her upon hearing that description. She paused for a brief moment, her thoughts drifting toward a distant memory.

  She whispered to herself, "*Its abilities are strikingly similar to my little Brother’s... But compared to him, this thing is a mindless beast. It shouldn’t be too difficult to defeat... Still, there's a risk of getting injured.*"

  Despite thinking about the danger, a wave of excitement began to seep into her veins. A faint smirk curved her lips as she murmured internally:

  "Finally... something interesting."

  Mirai stood upright and began walking forward with steady steps, showing no sign of hesitation. Hikari followed behind her, his gaze full of unease, his tension growing with every step.

  As they advanced, the atmosphere around them turned grim—air thick with ominous energy. The walls were covered with a black mist that crept slowly, almost alive. The temperature dropped, a chilling cold settling in.

  Then, without warning, the attack came.

  A rapid blur zipped past Mirai, narrowly missing her, though it still grazed her right arm—leaving a shallow cut and tearing her sleeve.

  Mirai looked at the wound briefly, then muttered to herself in a self-critical tone,

  "My reflexes have dulled."

  When she looked up, she saw the entity behind the attack.

  Before her stood *The Flickering Phantom*—a shadowy specter cloaked in thick black fog. Its form was not fully materialized; it flickered in and out of reality like a mirage. Its eyes glowed like stars in a pitch-black sky, emitting a malevolent gleam that pierced the darkness.

  It stood over two meters tall, its elongated, slender frame resembling a terrifying shadow, moving weightlessly through space. Luminous streaks of light pulsed chaotically within its body, as though defying reality itself.

  Mirai inhaled deeply, tightening her grip on her sword. She knew that one mistake here could be fatal. But her eyes were filled with unshakable confidence—eyes that had never known fear.

  She pointed her sword toward the Phantom, which vanished again instantly. In the blink of an eye, it appeared directly behind her.

  But Mirai was faster.

  With a sharp pivot, she turned and blocked the attack with her blade. Another strike followed—but she parried, again and again. The Phantom was a blur, appearing and disappearing like an illusion.

  In the final exchange, her blade struck it—hard—but the ordinary sword wasn’t strong enough to handle the force. It shattered.

  Mirai stopped briefly, her expression calm despite the loss. Without missing a beat, she reached into the left sleeve of her kimono and pulled out her original sword.

  For a moment, she looked disappointed.

  Then she sighed,

  "What a shame... I got excited for nothing."

  In an unexpected turn, Mirai disappeared from sight—just like the Phantom.

  Hikari could only stare, frozen in place. Everything had happened in a split-second.

  The Phantom, wrapped in thick fog, suddenly split in two.

  The fog dissolved as if it had never existed. The last sound was the faint whisper of steel slicing through air—before Mirai calmly sheathed her blade, as if completing a mundane task.

  She turned to face Hikari, who was still overcome with shock, his mind struggling to grasp what had just happened. With a quiet voice, as though nothing had occurred, she said:

  "Come on, let’s head to the next floor."

  Hikari stared at her for several seconds, unable to believe what he'd witnessed. Finally, he managed to speak—his voice tinged with wonder and admiration:

  "That was… incredible, Miss Mirai. Are you… are you an S-rank adventurer?"

  Mirai replied simply, "No. I’m ranked B."

  Hikari’s eyes froze for a moment as he watched her walk away with calm steps. *She’s stronger than any S-rank adventurer I’ve ever seen... There's no way she’s only B-rank.*

  A sense of relief washed over him as he added silently:

  *I really am lucky she agreed to help me.*

  Mirai continued toward the next floor, glancing down at her left arm as she whispered to herself:

  "I won’t be able to use my original sword for much longer… I’ll have to rely on my physical strength alone."

  As Mirai walked on, Hikari bent down and picked up a small, shimmering diamond that had dropped from the Phantom. He then caught up to her, pulling a sword from his bag.

  "Excuse me, Miss," he called out.

  Mirai turned slightly. "What is it?"

  He held out the sword toward her. "Here—use this. Since yours broke."

  Surprised, Mirai took the sword and asked,

  "Where did you get it?"

  "I keep spare swords in my bag," Hikari answered.

  He then noticed the cut on her right arm and said,

  "Wait—let me heal that wound."

  Mirai gave a soft smile and pulled her arm away, replying gently,

  "Don’t worry. It’s just a small cut."

  Still, he insisted, concern lining his voice,

  "But the wound could get worse if left untreated."

  Mirai responded calmly and reassuringly,

  "I appreciate your concern. But I have my own ways of handling injuries. Really—there’s no need to worry."

  She turned again and resumed walking without hesitation, leaving Hikari standing there in slight confusion. Something in her response felt strange, but he had no choice but to follow.

  Over the next few hours, they climbed several more floors. Every enemy they encountered fell instantly under Mirai’s sword—as if they hadn’t even posed a threat. Everything proceeded with surreal ease.

  Then, on the fifth floor, they stopped.

  Lying ahead of them were four adventurers, their bodies bloodied, covered in deep wounds.

  Hikari cautiously stepped forward, knelt down to examine them, and spoke with deep concern:

  "Three of them are gone... but one is still alive. He’s in very bad shape. Please, Miss Mirai—give me a moment to heal him."

  He knelt beside the wounded man, gently placed his hands on the man’s chest, closed his eyes, and focused his energy. His hands began to glow with a soft golden light, radiating warm magical energy.

  As Hikari concentrated, Mirai felt something stir within her—an uncomfortable, unsettling sensation triggered by Hikari’s energy.

  The golden light enveloped the injured man’s body, and in an instant, his wounds vanished without a trace.

  Mirai couldn’t hide her astonishment. Something about that energy made her uneasy.

  Moments later, the adventurer slowly regained consciousness, his eyes darting around until he realized where he was. Then, suddenly, he bolted upright in panic:

  "We need to run now!"

  Hikari asked, alarmed, "What happened?"

  The man’s voice trembled, his face pale with fear. "A demon… a killing demon showed up!"

  Hikari was stunned. Before he could react, the adventurer added quickly,

  "He killed my team in the blink of an eye… There’s no time—we have to escape!"

  At that very moment, Mirai was ambushed. A bolt of lightning struck toward her with incredible speed, but she dodged it with agile grace.

  Before her stood a tall man, with black hair and glowing red eyes. He clapped slowly, his voice dripping with mockery:

  "Impressive, you dodged my attack. Seems like you’ve got good reflexes, girl."

  The surviving adventurer fled the moment he saw the demon. Meanwhile, Hikari, voice trembling, pleaded,

  "We have to run. We can’t win against a demon."

  But Mirai ignored him completely, stepping forward with unwavering confidence, her gaze locked onto the demon. He laughed loudly, taunting:

  "Don’t think you’re powerful just because you dodged once."

  Mirai smiled coldly, her eyes gleaming with a dark red glow. In a calm, confident tone, she said:

  "You’re just a low-tier demon. One swing of my sword will erase you from existence."

  Her words struck a nerve. The demon’s expression twisted with rage. Hikari stood frozen behind her, torn between fleeing and staying. He tried to convince himself to run… but deep down, he couldn’t leave her alone.

  The demon advanced with heavy, thunderous steps, his glowing red eyes brimming with bloodlust. The air around him began to boil with dark magic. In response, Mirai calmly placed Hikari’s sword on the ground and quietly drew her original blade from her sleeve.

  The moment she unsheathed it, the demon felt an unfamiliar chill ripple through his bones. His steps froze mid-motion, as if his strength had suddenly abandoned him.

  "Why did you stop?" Mirai asked coldly, her eyes gleaming with a terrifying light. Her face was unreadable—a perfect balance between deadly serenity and absolute confidence.

  Fear flickered in the demon’s expression. Trying to cling to his courage, he hurled lightning and fire magic at her.

  The attacks struck her directly.

  Yet she didn’t fall. She didn’t even flinch.

  She kept walking—completely unfazed, as if her body rejected all forms of magic.

  Dark clouds swirled above the demon’s head as he watched in horror. He muttered to himself, "For a moment… I felt something monstrous from her..."

  Then, with a stuttering voice, trembling in disbelief, he asked, "What… what are you?"

  Mirai didn’t answer at first. Her footsteps echoed with eerie rhythm, drawing closer. The demon’s heartbeat pounded wildly as she neared. And finally, she smiled.

  A slow, cold smile.

  "I hope," she said, "you’re not as boring as the rest of the monsters here."

  The demon stiffened, suddenly certain that this woman was a genuine threat. Desperately, he cast every element at his disposal—fire, lightning, wind. The dungeon roared with the chaos of his spells. But Mirai continued forward, unaffected, crushing summoned beasts beneath her feet like fallen leaves.

  In a final, panicked attempt, he summoned a horde of creatures—black-skinned hounds, clattering skeletal warriors armed with rusted blades. They encircled him defensively, awaiting her approach.

  But in the blink of an eye, they were gone. Erased. As if they never existed.

  The demon's face twisted in disbelief.

  "This can’t be happening… My magic... My summons... Nothing is working…"

  Then a sudden realization struck him. His eyes widened, and he whispered to himself, "If magic doesn't affect her… why did she dodge my first attack?"

  A sly smirk crept across his face. "She looked confident… when she drew that sword. If I'm right, maybe I still have a chance."

  He stepped back rapidly, gathering all his magic, summoning another wave of monsters and launching every spell he had—nonstop. Lightning cracked, fire exploded, wind howled. Mirai pressed forward, destroying every monster in her path. But exhaustion began to show in her eyes.

  Finally, after wiping out the last creature, she paused for a breath.

  The demon didn’t hesitate.

  He summoned a massive beast, its size dwarfing the entire chamber. "I forged it from the souls of the dead. You can’t win now!" he shouted.

  As Mirai prepared to deliver her final blow, something unexpected happened—her sword vanished from her hand.

  Her strength was nearly depleted.

  And in that vulnerable moment, the monster lunged—piercing her with a powerful strike.

  "This is my chance!" the demon roared, merging fire and lightning into a blazing sphere of destruction, hurling it straight at her.

  Time seemed to slow as Mirai stared at the attack.

  If that hits me… I might not survive… I need to move…!

  But just before impact, a massive diamond shimmered into existence in front of her like a divine shield. The blast struck it, triggering a deafening explosion.

  The diamond shattered.

  But from its fragments, a subtle warmth flowed into Mirai’s body. With that final surge of energy, she summoned her original sword one last time.

  Her next strike was fast, precise—and devastating.

  In a single move, she destroyed the beast and cleaved the demon in two.

  As his form faded into nothingness, Mirai felt her strength leaving her. Her sword disappeared once again, and her body trembled from exhaustion. She barely remained standing.

  "I was careless…" she muttered, gasping for air. "I could’ve ended this much sooner… Father was right… this recklessness could get me killed."

  She glanced down at her wound, sighing softly. "At least it didn’t hit anything vital. I can close this…"

  Just then, Hikari rushed to her side.

  "Don’t worry, I’ll heal you," he said urgently.

  "I’m fine," she replied. "Let’s leave… before more show up." Then added, sincerely:

  "By the way… thank you. That diamond you threw… it saved my life."

  "I’ll start healing now," Hikari said, raising his hands gently, his expression focused.

  Mirai sighed. "It won’t work."

  But Hikari softly whispered a spell. A radiant golden light emerged from his hands, enveloping the area in a warm glow.

  Mirai felt something strange stir within her. She turned her face away, eyes closed, resisting the unfamiliar sensation.

  After a moment, the spell ended.

  She opened her eyes slowly—staring in disbelief. Her wounds… were gone. Completely healed. Not even a scar remained.

  She looked at Hikari, who stood smiling softly, his eyes shining with quiet relief.

  "I’m glad you’re okay," he said.

  "What… what just happened? How… did my wounds vanish so quickly?" Her voice trembled in shock.

  "I told you before," Hikari replied calmly. "I use healing magic."

  Mirai kept staring at him, stunned. "I’ve seen healing magic before… but never like this. No scars… no pain… You’re truly something else."

  Hikari flushed slightly at the compliment. A shy smile crept onto his lips.

  "Thank you… I’m happy I could help."

  But suddenly, a sharp pain struck him. He nearly lost balance but hid it quickly before she noticed.

  Without a word, Mirai turned toward the rusted gate. "Let’s go."

  Hikari followed, dragging his feet a little, but keeping pace.

  As they walked, thoughts churned in Mirai’s mind:

  "Nothing should be able to heal me… This boy… he’s not ordinary. His healing magic is different."

  At the same time, Hikari was lost in his own thoughts, his chest pounding.

  "What just happened? I’ve never drained this much energy before… Her injuries weren’t that serious… but I used more than half my strength…"

  They continued in silence until they reached the surface.

  Hikari stopped, looking at her with quiet admiration. "I don’t know how to thank you, Miss Mirai. For everything."

  Mirai stopped and turned to him, her tone serious: "No need for thanks. But I do want something from you."

  Hikari’s eyes widened with concern. "What is it?"

  "I want you to form a party with me," she said, offering a faint smile.

  Stunned, Hikari shook his head. "Are you sure? I’m weak. You’ve seen it yourself. I can’t fight or even defend myself. And worst of all… I can’t heal myself."

  She looked at him, firm and unwavering. "That’s not true. I’ve never seen healing like yours. Fast. Clean. No scars. It’s rare—extremely rare."

  He hesitated, doubt lingering in his eyes. "If you really think I could be useful…"

  She cut him off. "I’m certain. I can attack and defend. And with your healing, we’ll be stronger. Don’t underestimate yourself."

  Something new stirred in Hikari’s heart—confidence.

  With a small smile and eyes full of resolve, he said,

  "All right… I’ll join your party. I’ll do my best… not to be a burden."

  Mirai smiled softly, saying nothing.

  And so, a team was born:

  Mirai—the exiled demon princess.

  Hikari—the outcast healer.

  Both cast aside by the world.

  And both needing each other to survive it.

  (End of Chapter 1.2)

  Thank you so much for reading Chapter 1.2!

  I'm really excited to share more of this story with you. Today, I’ll be releasing Chapters 2, 3, and 4, so stay tuned!

  And tomorrow… Chapter 5 will be published as well.