(Desert Village)
The room fell silent as Elizabeth left them to settle in.
Yet Hera remained still, her senses uneasy. There was something wrong with the house, something she couldn't describe. It wasn't fear, but a quiet disturbance that refused to fade.
"Choose your rooms, everyone," Shino's voice cut through her thoughts. "We rest, gather supplies at dawn, and set out at sunrise."
One by one, they chose their rooms.
Shino's was at the far end of the hallway. He stepped inside and surveyed the space, simple, yet comfortable. A neatly prepared bed stood against the wall, fresh sheets folded with care. Guest clothes were laid out beside it, clean and untouched.
He removed his armor and reached for the clothes, about to change when a sound stopped him.
Water.
Soft. Flowing.
Shino moved toward the window and looked down. Below, illuminated by lantern light, was a bathhouse. Steam rose gently into the night air, its warmth contrasting the cold silence of the ruined lands they had crossed.
For the first time since entering the village, his shoulders relaxed, .if only slightly.
He gathered a few blankets and made his way downstairs, deciding to take a bath before calling it a night.
The bathhouse welcomed him with rising steam, the water warm and inviting. As he stepped in, the heat wrapped around his body, easing the tension from his muscles. He sank deeper into the water and let out a slow sigh, eyes closing as the fatigue of the journey finally caught up to him.
For a while, the world was quiet.
Only the gentle sound of water and the distant night sky above kept him company.
Then, footsteps.
He opened his eyes slightly as voices approached. Hiron and Peter entered, blankets in hand, clearly intending to take a bath as well.
"Sorry, sir—we didn't know you were here," Peter said quickly.
Shino gave a small smile. "No problem. Join me. We all need a proper bath after that fight with the demons."
Relief crossed their faces.
"Thank you for your kindness, sir," Hiron said.
The two stepped into the warm water, the steam rising higher as the bathhouse filled once more, not with noise, but with quiet camaraderie.
Silence settled over the bathhouse as they sank deeper into relaxation, the warm water easing the weight of the day from their bodies.
After a moment, Shino broke the quiet. He turned slightly toward Peter.
"Your powers have promising potential," he said calmly. "You, Hiron, and Hera worked well together. That kind of coordination is what I expect from you all."
Peter straightened a little, surprised. "Thank you, sir. I'm still getting used to this upper-rank life… everything feels different."
"You'll adapt soon," Shino replied in a low voice. "You'll witness things both amazing and strange. This path isn't an easy one."
Hiron let out a small chuckle. "You were impressive as well, sir. Wiping out all those demons with a single burst of fire, it was incredible."
Shino smiled faintly. "Since we've formed this group, you'll see more of my power. And I'll see more of yours as well."
A quiet smile spread among them.
Under the open night sky, surrounded by steam and stillness, they shared the warmth, not just of the water, but of trust slowly taking shape.
(David's POV)
I stood before the rock.
It towered over me—thick, ancient, unyielding. A silent wall that mocked everything I had gained. I had felt power surge through my body, felt my soul answer me for the first time… and yet, it meant nothing here.
No matter how hard I struck it, the rock refused to break.
Blood ran down my hands, warm and steady, dripping onto the earth beneath my feet. My knuckles throbbed, my arms burned, and still I kept going, until my strength finally betrayed me.
My body grew unbearably heavy, as if the world itself had settled onto my shoulders. My legs trembled, my vision blurred, and then I collapsed to the ground.
I couldn't move.
No matter how hard I tried, my body refused to respond. The sky darkened as night slowly claimed the land, the sun retreating beyond the trees. I lay there, broken and gasping, staring into the coming darkness.
Then I heard it.
A sound from the forest.
I turned my head slightly, my breath shallow, watching as a white rabbit emerged from between the trees. Its fur glowed faintly under the dying light, small, fragile, unaware.
For a moment, I forgot my pain.
Then a snake struck.
Fangs pierced flesh in an instant. The rabbit cried out, its body twisting as the snake coiled around it, tightening, crushing. I watched in silence as the struggle ended, life fading from its eyes.
I didn't look away.
I didn't intervene.
I simply watched.
Maybe this was the world's truth laid bare before me. Not good or evil, but just survival. The strong taking from the weak. Power deciding who lives and who disappears without a trace.
My fingers clenched weakly against the dirt.
Perhaps… this was life.
A battlefield where only the strongest were allowed to endure.
Some time passed before my body finally listened to me again.
My fingers twitched first. Then my legs. Slowly, painfully—I pushed myself up, steadying my weight with every step like a wounded animal learning how to stand again.
I turned back to the rock.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I muttered.
I didn't want to return. Every part of my body screamed against it. But something deeper than pain pulled at me. If I wanted the truth, if I wanted to understand the mystery buried inside me, I had to keep pushing. Even if it broke me.
Especially if it did.
I made my way through the tall trees that stretched endlessly around the house. Each step felt heavier than the last, my muscles burning, my breath uneven. By the time the house came into view, night had fully settled.
From a distance, I saw Lazarus standing at the entrance, hands clasped behind his back, waiting.
I reached the doorway… and collapsed.
My knees gave out as I let out a long, exhausted breath, my body finally surrendering.
"Welcome back," Lazarus said, a calm smile on his face. "How was your training?"
"It went well," I replied weakly. "But next time… try giving me a hint."
He chuckled softly.
"Were you able to break it?"
"No," I said, lifting my blood-stained hands slightly. "But my hands were."
He turned and walked inside.
"Come in. Food is ready."
As he moved toward the kitchen, the scent reached me, warm, rich, comforting. To be honest, his cooking was unlike anything I had ever tasted. It felt less like food… and more like something meant to keep a broken soul alive.
Using what little strength I had left, I pushed myself up and made my way to the table.
Tonight, at least, I would eat.
I sat down as he placed a bowl of soup before me, a wooden spoon resting inside it.
We ate in silence for a while, the warmth of the meal slowly spreading through my body. The house felt calm, too calm .like it was holding the weight of everything I didn't yet understand.
After some time, I finally spoke.
"Lazarus… when I was training, my body gave out. I couldn't move for a while. It felt weak, more than just exhaustion."
He didn't answer immediately. He took another spoonful, then set the bowl down.
"When you draw power from your soul," he said calmly, "your body becomes the vessel that carries that energy. That is where strength comes from. But the human body has limits."
He looked at me, his gaze steady.
"If your body absorbs more energy than it can handle, it begins to break down. Damage follows."
I listened closely, not missing a single word.
"The only way to surpass that limit," he continued, "is through training, not just the body, but the mind. When both are refined together, your capacity grows. Your power increases. And you can maintain that energy for longer periods without harm."
I lowered my gaze to my hands.
"That explains why my body wouldn't respond," I said quietly.
"Yes," Lazarus replied. "You used all the energy your body could take… and it had nothing left to give."
"Eat, take your bath, and change your clothes. Tomorrow, we begin a new training," he said, his voice firm and unwavering.
I looked at him, feeling the weight of the day slowly lift from my shoulders. For the first time in a long while, my heart felt at peace.