The horizon was no longer cloaked in darkness. A faint orange hue bled across the sky, as if dawn hesitated at the edge of the world. Nyxaria's boots dragged sluggishly across the mossy forest ground, her every breath labored and shallow.
Her limbs, once lethal instruments of precision, now trembled like autumn leaves in a bitter wind. Each step forward felt as if she were pushing her body through water, the weight of her limbs refusing to obey her will.
Just a bit more.
The towering outer wall of the west side of the forsaken city glinted in the breaking light, stone shadows stretching like fingers in the distance. But something was wrong. Her body—once honed through years of combat, conditioned to endure poison, fire, blood, and silence—was betraying her.
The numbness crawled from her fingertips up her arms, her knees buckled, and a cold tingle spread like frost beneath her skin.
"Ari…" Her voice was barely a rasp in the wind. "What the hell's going on?"
A familiar chime rang inside her mind, followed by Ari's nonchalant, almost playful tone. "Oh, you mean the Stillroot? It's a natural counteragent to the Craze Weed's toxicity, but... surprise! It comes with a numbing side effect. Honestly, I'm impressed you made it this far before collapsing. The average person would've been paralyzed within minutes."
Nyxaria clenched her jaw as her knees gave way. Her face contorted in pain and disbelief. "You knew and you didn't warn me?"
"You didn't ask," Ari replied breezily. "You chewed the root on your own. I assumed my silent applause would suffice."
Nyxaria glared at the empty air in front of her, though the image of Ari did not appear. Her breath quickened as anger bubbled inside her chest—but it was hollow, futile. There was no point in wasting strength on fury. Not now.
She gritted her teeth and kept moving, dragging herself forward by sheer will, crawling now, her fingernails digging into the dirt. The city was just a blur ahead—so close. Her vision swam as the world tilted and spun, shadows lengthened and narrowed, the early sunlight burning like needles in her eyes.
Just... a little...
Her body gave out.
She collapsed mere meters away from the gate, her arm outstretched toward salvation, the cool earth rising to embrace her in unconsciousness.
———
The ceiling above was wooden, and the air carried the faint smell of dried herbs and dust. A small shaft of morning light fell through the narrow window and landed gently across her bandaged arm.
Nyxaria blinked slowly, her body heavy, her breath slow. The rough fabric of the bandages scratched faintly against her skin, and her muscles ached beneath every inch of flesh.
She recognized the interior instantly—it was the small, sparsely furnished stone house she'd been given in the village.
She was alive.
Groaning softly, Nyxaria pushed herself upright, wincing at the sharp stabs of pain coursing through her torso. Her arms and legs were wrapped tightly in bandages, likely made from old fabric or rags. Dried blood crusted the edges of the gauze, and her head throbbed.
As she sat up, the door creaked open.
Sira entered silently, the same mute girl with soft brown eyes and delicate movements. In her hands, she carried a shallow wooden tray, atop which rested a bowl of water and two small fruits. When her gaze met Nyxaria's, her entire face lit up with relief and joy.
She beamed.
Setting the tray gently on the table, Sira rushed to Nyxaria's side, hands fluttering in midair. Her fingers moved rapidly in a series of gestures, her eyes searching Nyxaria's face as if trying to ask a question.
Nyxaria stared blankly, her expression unreadable. "I'm fine."
Sira paused and gave a slight nod. Then she made another series of signs with her hands, slower this time.
Nyxaria's brows furrowed. "You… found me?"
Sira shook her head. Then gestured again—pointing at herself, then toward the sky, mimicking a bird with her hands, then finally pointing toward the door.
"…Lioren?" Nyxaria asked softly.
Sira nodded vigorously.
A chime rang in her mind as Ari's voice filled in the rest. "Sira came to check on you this morning but couldn't find you anywhere. At the same time, Lioren—the purple-feathered hawk you accidentally saved—had come to see how you were doing. She told him you were gone, and he immediately flew out to search. He found you outside the city gate, unconscious and bleeding, and carried you back. Amusing, isn't it?"
Nyxaria ignored her and looked back at Sira, who gestured again, this time miming someone older with a cane and then crushing herbs.
"She called the elder?" Nyxaria guessed.
Ari confirmed again, "Correct. The elder gathered what few herbs they had, and the village healer treated your wounds. They did what they could—these people don't have much, but they used everything available."
Nyxaria nodded slowly and met Sira's gaze. "Thank you."
Sira bowed, a silent and humble gesture of gratitude and care. Then, as if remembering something, she turned and quietly exited.
Nyxaria was left alone.
Her body still ached, but it was the silence that unnerved her more. In that moment, she realized—she wasn't used to being saved. Her life had always been a game of survival. No helping hands, no waiting rescue. To be picked up from the dirt, carried back, healed... it was foreign. Uncomfortable.
Unsettling.
Her gaze drifted to the system space and with a thought, she summoned the three Moonshadow Leaves, cold and silvery, their dew still glistening faintly as if kissed by moonlight.
When the door opened again, Sira had returned, this time accompanied by the elderly woman—tall and bent, her white hair tied in a low knot, her walking stick thudding gently on the floor.
The elder's sharp, weathered eyes softened upon seeing Nyxaria awake.
"You're awake, female. How are you feeling?" Her voice was rough but kind, like a bark worn smooth by wind.
"I'm fine," Nyxaria replied calmly, then extended her hand with the herbs. "I heard one of the cubs is sick. This herb... it should help. Take it and treat them properly."
The elder blinked. Her gaze dropped to the glowing leaves in Nyxaria's hand, and for a moment, she said nothing. Her fingers, gnarled by time, reached out reverently and accepted the Moonshadow Leaves as if they were holy relics.
"So that's why..." she murmured.
Her gaze lingered on Nyxaria's bruised form, on the faint cuts, on the stiffness in her limbs. Her expression deepened with realization.
"You went out there for this... for them."
Nyxaria didn't respond.
The elder continued quietly. "The forest fever isn't deadly, but its aftermath is cruel. High fevers, lasting weakness... some cubs lose speech, others lose control of their minds. We... we used what little Moonshadow Leaves we had left weeks ago. And no one dared enter the forest at night. Not even the strong ones from the east."
She gripped the leaves tighter.
"One of these can cure ten cubs. And you brought three."
She stepped closer and did something Nyxaria didn't expect.
She reached out—and gently patted Nyxaria's head.
"Thank you, child," she whispered. "On behalf of all the cubs, thank you for saving them."
Nyxaria froze.
No one had touched her like that before. Not since...
A strange tightness coiled in her chest. The warmth of that touch didn't hurt—but it did ache. Deep, unfamiliar. Her breath caught, and she blinked rapidly, expression unreadable.
The elder stepped back. "I must take these to the healer. Their fevers rise with each passing moment." She turned to leave but not before nodding once more in gratitude.
Sira bowed beside her, her expression brimming with quiet admiration.
When they left, the silence returned.
But this time, Nyxaria didn't feel alone. Not quite.
Moments later, with an unnecessary blast of confetti and an annoying pop, Ari materialized midair, arms thrown wide and a grin stretched across her face.
"Congratulations!" she announced, throwing what Nyxaria now recognized was a party popper. "You've completed your very first side mission!"
Nyxaria's gaze hardened instantly. "Was all this part of your plan?"
Ari twirled in the air. "Of course not! But I do admit, it made a lovely narrative arc. Suffering, survival, sacrifice—pure gold."
A screen bloomed into view beside her.
[< Side Mission: Aid the Ill Cub ]
Description: A young beastman child in the village has fallen seriously ill with a rare forest fever. The village's healer lacks a critical herb, Moonshadow Leaf, necessary to prepare the cure. Locate the herb in a forested hill nearby and return with it within 48 hours.
Objective: Locate and harvest at least 3 fresh Moonshadow Leaves.
Time Limit: 48 hours
Reward: Veil of the Serpent's Grace
Status: Completed. ]
Nyxaria said nothing.
Ari floated closer, tilting her head. "You don't feel happy?"
"I'm not used to this," Nyxaria replied coldly.
"To being thanked?"
Nyxaria nodded.
She looked down at her bandaged hands, the raw skin beneath, the ache in her bones. "I only know how to kill."
Ari didn't smile this time. "Then maybe it's time you learn something else."
Silence.
And yet, in that silence, something subtle shifted in Nyxaria. The gratitude, the warmth, the flicker of something she couldn't name—it lingered, like the softest whisper beneath the noise.
She had no name for it yet.
But it was there.