[This chapter contains descriptions of violence, injury, and intense combat scenes. Reader discretion is advised. If you're sensitive to such content, please proceed with caution.]

I run.

My lungs burn.

My knees threaten to give out at any moment.

But I keep running.

Reilan has almost disappeared from my sight, a swift shadow cutting through the ruins of the city.

He's using mana—he has to be.

Otherwise, there's no way I'd have fallen this far behind.

Still, I force myself to push forward.

Ding!

[Your Agility stat has increased by 1.]

[The effort of keeping up with a combat specialist has granted you a small boost in physical capabilities.]

— Not the time for this! — My voice comes out hoarse, barely a rasp between desperate breaths.

My body screams for rest, but I ignore it.

My eyes lock onto Reilan, but he's getting further and further away, blending into the shadows of the ruined buildings.

What the hell is he thinking?

He's supposed to escort me, isn't he?

And then, I realize it.

The smell of burnt flesh is stronger now. Rotten. Dry.

The air is thick and hot, tainted with the metallic stench of dried blood.

And then, the true remnants of Jordanis reveal themselves before me.

My stomach churns.

Corpses. So many corpses.

Scattered across the streets, piled against the black stone walls, charred beyond recognition.

Some are nothing more than silhouettes scorched into the ground, consumed by flames so intense that not even their bones remain.

But others... others still have form.

Or at least, pieces of them.

Severed arms. Legs twisted at impossible angles. Bones shattered, piercing through flesh like grotesque thorns.

I start hyperventilating.

I've felt this before.

With the monsters. With the river serpents.

That suffocating terror of knowing that any mistake could mean my end.

At least there, it was possible to control. It was still possible to appear rational. Calm.

This time... this time it's worse.

Because there are no monsters here.

No grotesque beings, no abominable beasts.

Only demons.

Demons slaughtered like cattle.

The sight hits me like a punch to the gut.

The air leaves my lungs all at once, and my legs give out.

Reilan is completely out of sight now.

— Bolster Up, help me... — My voice comes out weak, choked.

Ding!

[Heart rate unstable. Adjusting parameters.]

[Abnormal brain activity detected. Suggestion: Immediate emotional stabilization.]

My hands tremble.

System messages blink in my vision, but I can't focus on them.

I can't focus on anything but the destruction around me.

I step back. Instinctively.

Then another step.

My breathing is wrong.

Too fast. Too shallow.

Every heartbeat echoes in my skull like a war drum.

And then, I trip.

My foot hits something soft and heavy.

A body.

Unlike the others, this one isn't burned.

It was torn apart.

His face is still there—partially intact. His eyes, wide open in pure terror, frozen in the moment of his death.

My stomach tightens.

The acidic taste rises up my throat before I can stop it.

I vomit.

The bitter taste shocks me back to reality.

I wipe my lips with my shirt sleeve, disgusted.

I can't stay here, so I force myself to stand.

My legs are still trembling, but I push forward, going in the direction Reilan disappeared.

I try to organize my thoughts, to regain control with Bolster Up's help.

It's useless.

My mind is a wreck.

Every image I see feels like a missile, slamming into my sanity.

I want to close my eyes. Pretend none of this is real.

But I know I can't.

I know this place isn't safe.

I know that if I stop, I might be the next one lying on this bloodstained ground.

I search for Reilan.

This... this didn't happen in the game.

No.

Definitely not.

A scream.

Sudden. Sharp. Desperate.

My blurry, tear-filled eyes focus on a scene up ahead.

A woman.

She's clutching a baby to her chest, trembling.

In front of her, a hooded figure steps closer.

A dagger in his hand, raised for the kill.

I don't think. I don't hesitate. Or at least, I tell myself that.

My hands move before my mind does.

The rapier leaves its sheath with a snap.

I just run.

I've probably done that more than anything else today.

Without thinking, I push mana to my feet.

Whispering Step.

The technique I had scanned before.

Simple. Crude. But enough—in theory.

Mana floods my legs like a thunderclap. I shoot forward.

At first, it works.

The world blurs. My speed doubles.

Then, it goes wrong.

The mana, with no magic circle to guide it, scatters like water slipping through my fingers.

My muscles fail. My strength drains away.

My body feels like it's melting, like my bones are being pulled out of me.

But I make it.

The hooded man turns to face me.

— What happened here?

My voice falters.

A child's voice. Shaking. Weak.

The man moves without answering.

I must be half his size. At best.

His hood shifts, revealing a scarred arm. Bulging veins. Skin carved with old wounds.

And at the center, a symbol—a circle slashed by a vertical line.

My mind screams, but my body is already moving.

I parry the dagger strike by pure reflex. The impact rattles through my numb arm.

He pushes forward. The blade scrapes against mine, trying to force an opening. But he's careless, brute. No technique.

I can win.

The question is: do I have the courage to do what it takes?

Fighting a monster is one thing.

Fighting to train is one thing.

Fighting with holograms is one thing.

But what about fighting for the sake of your life?

My hesitation costs me. He lunges again, fast.

The blade aims for my throat.

First move.

My rapier shoots forward in a straight thrust, pressing him back. He stumbles, surprised.

But I don't stop.

Second move.

A second thrust, this time at an angle, forcing him to block incorrectly. He falls for the trick, dodging the wrong way—exposing his guard.

Something snaps inside me. I concentrate.

Third move.

My blade starts as another thrust, but at the last second, I shift into a diagonal slash, cutting through his cloak.

Blood drips from his arm.

He growls, finally stepping back.

My feet slide away.

Fourth move.

I take a step backward, pretending to retreat. But the moment he lunges at me, I counterattack.

My blade flashes, biting into the air.

He rolls aside, barely dodging.

He rises again, panting, hands shaking.

Fear creeps into his eyes.

But then, the air behind me splits apart.

Too late.

Pain.

Metal tears through my flesh.

The sword buries deep, scorching my skin.

I stumble, spinning to face my attacker.

Another hooded figure.

Blade slick with blood. The stench of smoke rising from my wound.

The regeneration of the blessing seems to be taking effect.

But it is still disconcerting.

My eyes search for the woman.

She's gone.

She ran.

Relief and frustration mix into something bitter.

She and the child are safe.

But now, I am alone.

The dagger-wielding man moves first.

Fifth move.

My foot slides sideways, dodging his slash aimed at my neck. At the same time, my rapier strikes low—a cut toward his Achilles tendon.

He stumbles.

But the second one replaces him.

The swordsman.

This time, it's mana.

My blade rises to intercept his.

The impact explodes through my numb arm.

They take turns.

One strike. Then another.

Pressuring me. Forcing me back.

My blade cuts through the air, searching for an opening.

I find it.

And I strike.

My rapier lunges forward.

Sixth move.

I switch grips, changing the thrust's angle at the last second.

— Ah...!

Once again, I fail with my footwork.

It was a miracle it hadn't happened yet.

He reacts quickly.

Steel whistles through the air.

The impact slams into me.

And pierces through.

The force rips through me like a blast.

The sword buries deep into my stomach.

The world tilts.

My mouth opens in a scream that never comes.

Pain.

Pain like I've never felt before.

My organs shred apart.

The man gives a final yank on his sword.

It slices sideways.

Something inside me tears like fragile paper.

I want to scream.

But I have no strength.

My body collapses.

A pool of blood widens beneath me.

The rapier slips from my fingers.

The System beeps. Messages blink in my vision.

[Critical health state.]

[Stabilization attempt failed.]

[Trying again...]

I try to move. To get up. To crawl.

Nothing happens.

Spasms.

My mouth opens, trying to form words.

Only groans escape.

Then, footsteps.

The man approaches. The same one who left me like this.

The Blood Blessing was still weak.

I used the right techniques, but not with the real power they have to offer.

I was weak.

Mana. That's all it took to bring me down.

He raises his sword one last time.

The cold steel touches my skin.

The final strike falls.

And then, everything goes dark.