Pain.
Not sharp. Just… everywhere. A dull, heavy ache pulsing from my shoulder down to my spine. The kind of pain that lingers like a bad decision.
The bunk beneath me felt like it was made of old swords and unfinished regrets. Still better than the D-Rank tents outside, where the roof’s optional and the cold’s personal.
I groaned, sat up, and blinked at the air until my stat screen flickered into view.
[Alvertium – Rank C Hunter]
Level: 33 (EXP: 12,590 / 25,000)
[ +2,200 EXP: Stealth encounter, wound survival, critical instinct reaction.]
[Strength: 48 (+ 2)
Perception: 62
Endurance: 44 (+ 3)
Charisma: 29 (+ 1)
Intelligence: 54
Agility: 74
Luck: 35]
[– Harmonic Insight (Lv.5) – Measures compatibility between people, weapons, creatures, objects, the void, etc.
– Insect Glaive Mastery (Lv.6) – Aerial mobility, mid-air combos, faster repositioning.
– Bestial Instincts (Lv.3) – Heightened reactions and threat detection against monsters.]
[Level UP: 34 (EXP: 14,790 / 25,000)
“Charisma went up,” I muttered. “Probably from lying my way out of dying.”
I peeled off the shirt, the fabric clinging to dried blood and bad decisions. My fingers grazed the wound on my shoulder.
Still bleeding. Still raw.
I frowned.
That couldn’t be right.
Pleit healed me. He always heals me. Fast. Clean. Efficient. Like pressing rewind on damage. Wounds vanish. Pain gone. Not even a scar.
But this? This was still angry. Red. Open. Like he hadn’t touched it at all.
Strange.
Real strange.
Before I could overthink it, the door creaked. Not slammed this time—calculated. And Pleit stepped inside, already halfway through a sentence.
“I knew it,” he muttered, eyes locked on my shoulder. “Still bleeding.”
I raised an eyebrow. “...Good morning to you too?”
He ignored me, already pacing. “It’s been six hours. That gash should’ve been sealed, scarred, and fading by now.”
“It’s not dangerous,” I said quickly. “It hurts but at least it's not dripping like yesterday.”
He shot me a look. “Yeah, you always say that right before something explodes or bleeds more.”
He crossed the room in two strides, eyes flicking down to the wound like it personally offended him. “This isn’t normal. I don’t like thisl.”
I pulled the shirt back on. “So what, you want to poke it again?”
“No.” He straightened. “We’re going back.”
I squinted. “Back where?”
“The site. Where it happened.”
“Pleit—”
“I’m serious, Alvert.” His voice cut like frost. “I need to see that blade. Whatever hit you—it left something behind. Maybe something I missed. Something I couldn’t heal.”
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I rubbed my temples. “You’re the one who stayed up half the night keeping me from bleeding out. Shouldn’t you be asleep or…I don’t know…not doing this?”
“That’s exactly why I’m doing this.” He crossed his arms. “I’ve got three working theories and I don’t like any of them. We’re going.”
Great.
Fantastic.
“Fine.” I yanked my uniform off the bunk, pulling it over the half-sealed bandage. “Let’s go.”
I shoved on my boots, checked my pocket—yep, still there.
The blade.
The real problem.
Wrapped in cloth. Hidden from everyone. Still humming with a weird tension I hadn’t figured out yet.
The blade Pleit wanted to find?
Yeah. It wasn’t waiting in the woods.
It was already walking next to him.
We stepped into the hallway, boots thudding on cold stone. The stairwell spiraled down like it was trying to crush our knees.
I tried for casual. “No breakfast?”
Pleit didn’t even glance over. “Keep walking.”
Cool. Love the vibe.
I adjusted my jacket, careful not to let the pocket shift too much.
We weren’t just heading to a battlefield.
We were heading to the scene of my lie.
And Pleit?
He never missed details.
I led him into the woods, keeping my pace steady but my path just crooked enough to veer west—away from where it had really happened.
Away from the truth.
When we reached a random clearing, wide and convincingly “stabby” enough, I stopped and spun around like I was reliving the trauma.
“I swear I remember. I was standing right here.”
Pleit gave me the kind of look you reserve for suspicious footprints near an exploded mana vial.
“Right here?” he repeated.
“Yup.”
“This exact spot.”
“That is correct.”
Pleit folded his arms like he was crossing off a list of my lies. “And where’s the blade?”
I looked at the ground like I fully expected the weapon to just pop into existence like a guilty puppy.
“That’s the weird thing,” I said, nodding solemnly. “I threw it.”
“You threw it,” Pleit echoed, deadpan.
“Yup.”
Pleit inhaled like he was prepping for war—or meditation. Hard to tell with him.
“Alvertium.”
Uh-oh. Full name. Not good.
“You weren’t on shift last night,” he said slowly, like he was tasting the lie on his tongue. “So why were you out here?”
I shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“So you just… what? Went for a casual midnight stroll through the forest where people die?”
I nodded helpfully. “Yeah. Super relaxing.”
Pleit pinched the bridge of his nose like he was trying not to teleport me directly into a wall. “I’m concerned for your safety, Al. Genuinely. But more than that, I’m concerned that you’re clearly lying to me.”
“Hey now, let’s not throw accusations around,” I said lightly, hands raised in innocent denial.
“You sound like my little brother when he used to sneak out after curfew.”
I blinked. “Wait–you have a brother?”
Pleit sighed. “Metaphorically.”
I grinned. “That tracks. I always assumed you just spawned into existence fully armed with medical knowledge and disappointment.”
He didn’t even blink.
“You’re hiding something,” he said, voice flat. “I don’t know what it is, but I will find out.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
“That’s because it’s not nothing,” he snapped. “I can tell when people lie, Alvert. Pulse, breath, tone. Your wound was strange. It shouldn’t have resisted healing. That blade–whatever it was–left something behind.”
I kept my face blank. “You’re overthinking it.”
“And you’re underthinking it,” he shot back, eyes sharp. “And I don’t think that was a Crimson Fang hunter.”
I turned to face him. “Pleit. I know a Crimson when I see one. And there is absolutely, positively no doubt in my mind that that was a hunter.”
He looked at me. Really looked.
Then—because the universe hates me—
“ALVERTIUM! PLEIT!”
We both turned just in time to see Tipo burst through the treeline like a one-man storm in too much leather armor.
Pleit immediately tensed. “What happened?”
Tipo skidded to a halt, panting dramatically. “Urgent news.”
Pleit’s hand went to his side. “What kind of—?”
“They burnt the toast again.”
Pleit just… stared.
“I’m sorry?”
“The toast,” Tipo said, placing a hand over his heart, eyes full of tragedy. “It’s a crime against breakfast.”
I sighed. “Tipo.”
“Oh, right!” He perked up. “Actually, I was looking for you because, uh… there was a dragon sighting nearby.”
Silence.
Pleit and I both turned to him slowly.
“Say that again,” Pleit said, low and deadly.
Tipo scratched his head. “Yeah, apparently someone saw a massive dragon, super close to the Scribes' forest. Squad’s being sent out to check it.”
Oh. No.
My blood went cold, but my face didn’t. Calm. Neutral. Totally not panicking.
Pleit stepped forward. “Where exactly was it seen?”
Tipo jerked a thumb behind him. “Scribe forest. There’s a cave.”
My stomach dropped straight through the floor.
“Let’s go,” Pleit said.
I barely heard him over the screaming sirens of doom going off in my head.
Less than a day. That’s how long I had before someone found out I’d spared Tiny. And when they did?
Dead. So dead. Past-dead. Legendary-tier executed.
I needed to move. Now.
I forced a shrug. “You know, dragon sightings happen all the time. Maybe it’s just a big wyvern.”
Pleit narrowed his eyes. “Wyverns don’t leave craters, Alvert.”
Tipo nodded. “Also, this one’s apparently huge.”
I smiled through the panic. “Okay, well, I’ll catch up. Need to grab my gear.”
Pleit frowned. “What gear?”
“You know… my gear.”
Tipo tilted his head. “Your glaive? It’s literally on your back, man.”
I glanced down.
...Shit.
“Right, but—”
Tipo gasped like he’d just cracked the code to the universe. “Ohhh, I get it.”
Bless this man.
“You gotta take a dump before we go, huh?”
Pleit’s soul visibly left his body. “Tipo, why—”
“Hey, it’s normal!” Tipo waved him off. “I’d be nervous too if I had to fight a dragon before breakfast.”
I put a hand on Tipo’s shoulder, staring at him like he was the last drop of mana in a drought. “Yes. Exactly. That is exactly what’s happening.”
Pleit groaned, already regretting all his life choices. “I hate both of you.”
“Great talk, guys!” I clapped my hands together. “You two head out. I’ll catch up soon!”
Before Pleit could say another word, I bolted—feet pounding the dirt.
I had minutes, maybe less.
Because if they found that cave before I got there?
It wouldn’t be toast getting burned.
It’d be me.
