The next morning, the faint light of dawn crept through the cracks of the wooden shed.
Mino blinked awake, her sleepy eyes adjusting to the pale glow. For a moment, she didn't move — her mind still clouded with the thoughts that had kept her awake most of the night.
Should I really leave with Luciel?
The question had circled endlessly in her head until exhaustion finally claimed her.
"Sniff…"
Her nose twitched. A warm, savory scent drifted through the shed.
She sat up, blinking, and followed the smell. Over by the small fire pit, Luciel was crouched beside a makeshift iron pot hung from a wooden frame. A few glowing coals flickered beneath it, and the gentle bubbling of boiling meat filled the air.
"Awake?" Luciel turned his head slightly, stirring the pot with a spoon. "Get up and eat something."
Mino stared at him for a moment in surprise. Normally, she was the one who prepared their morning meal.
"Your body… you're already healed?" she asked softly.
Luciel gave a calm nod. "Yeah. I'm fine now."
Breakfast was simple — compressed biscuits and boiled lizard meat. The taste was far from pleasant, but it was warm and filling, and that was all that mattered in this world.
The biscuits were one of the few things Luciel still had from Earth — remnants of his pack when the ground split and swallowed him into this strange new place.
"Oh." Mino nodded and sat quietly near the fire, watching the steam rise.
Luciel divided the food, setting half in a small metal lunch box before handing it to her. "Eat up. We'll need our strength. We're going hunting after this."
"Hunting?" Mino looked up quickly, clutching the warm box.
He nodded. "If we're going to leave camp, we'll need supplies. These biscuits won't last long."
Mino bit her lip and accepted the meal obediently. She recognized the lunch box — it was from Luciel's mysterious backpack, the one she'd once thought of trading away to pay her taxes. She was glad she hadn't.
Luciel didn't say much after that. He ate in silence, his movements quiet and deliberate.
The only sounds were the faint crackle of burning coals and the occasional sigh of wind through the cracks in the walls.
Mino peeked at him from the corner of her eye. His expression was calm — almost distant — and for some reason, that made her chest ache.
She wanted to speak, to say something, but no words came. The silence between them felt heavier than usual.
Then a low scraping sound broke it —
Crack...
The Rock Tortoise stirred near the fire, its emerald eyes glinting in the dim light as it blinked up at Luciel.
"Oh! The tortoise!" Mino said quickly, seizing the chance to speak. "What about it? Will it stay here?"
Luciel shook his head. "No. It'll come with us."
He glanced at the creature fondly. A Level 1 Rock Tortoise wasn't strong enough to defend itself, and leaving it behind would only make it prey for the hungry.
Besides, it needed to eat, too — and it could forage safely outside.
Mino nodded, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. "That… makes sense."
Silence returned, soft but not unfriendly.
After finishing breakfast, they gathered their belongings. Mino tucked away the few valuables she had — a small knife, some dried skins, a bundle of rags — then helped Luciel close up the shed.
Her home was nothing more than a hut made from animal hides and deadwood. Fragile, but it was still shelter.
The two of them slipped quietly out of camp. Their hut was built at the edge, far from the patrol routes, making it easy to leave unseen.
The Rock Tortoise lumbered after them, its brown shell blending seamlessly into the earth. Its pace was slow, but steady — the same speed as a man walking.
Luciel led the way north. According to Mino, there was a hilly region in that direction where small lizards were plentiful.
They passed a few people on the way, but no one approached. Most glanced at them from afar, then turned away.
Luciel understood why.
In this apocalyptic wasteland, trust was a luxury. Food, water, even a scrap of shelter — people would kill for them.
You survived by staying alone, or staying armed.
The hills weren't far. Within half an hour, they stood at the base of a rocky slope dotted with dry grass and the occasional brittle bush.
Luciel crouched down and patted the tortoise's shell. "Go on, Black Tortoise. Find your own food."
He had given it that name — not just as a symbol of hope, but as a goal. Someday, this small creature would become a true Black Tortoise, the divine beast of the north.
"Oh~~"
The Rock Tortoise rubbed its rough head against his palm before slowly crawling off in search of food.
Mino watched nervously. "It won't get lost, will it?"
Luciel smiled faintly. "No. We can sense each other's thoughts."
She blinked. "Telepathy?"
He nodded. "Something like that."
Her shoulders relaxed, and she pointed toward the slope. "The traps I set are just ahead — at the base of those hills."
"Good." Luciel's eyes scanned the area. "You check the traps. I'll scout for other prey nearby."
He wanted something larger than the small lizards — something that could actually fill their stomachs.
"Alright," Mino said softly. "If anything happens, call for me."
Luciel smiled faintly. "I will."
He turned and headed in the opposite direction of the tortoise.
Behind him, Mino sighed, puffing out her cheeks. "Why does he feel so distant today…"
She patted her own face with both hands, trying to shake off the melancholy.
Luciel's steps faltered briefly. His enhanced hearing caught every word, even from a distance.
He sighed quietly to himself. She's getting attached.
He didn't want to hurt her — but false kindness would only make it harder later if she chose to stay behind.
The wasteland was no place for soft promises.
---
The terrain grew rougher as Luciel walked. Cracked stones jutted from the ground, and dust swirled in the dry air.
"It's really desolate," he murmured, scanning the horizon. "Like crossing the Great Gobi…"
He shook his head slightly. "I don't know how these people have survived here for so long."
Then —
Shhh—sand shifted.
A faint sound caught his attention.
Luciel froze, muscles tensing. His gaze snapped toward a nearby rock wall. Something small was moving there.
A lizard — no larger than his forearm — clung to the rough surface, its scales blending with the stone.
Luciel's grip tightened on his blade. "Found you."
He drew the knife in one swift motion.
With a clean strike, the blade pierced the creature's skull. It dropped without a sound.
But then—
Rustle… sand slid again.
Another shape darted up the rock face — similar size, different shimmer.
Luciel's eyes narrowed. "A chameleon?"
The small lizard changed colors right before his eyes — red, green, then blue — its body blending into the stone.
He lunged, grabbing it mid-climb. The creature squirmed violently in his hand, its scales shifting hue like rippling light.
Luciel held it up, fascinated. "So, you're not the same species as the others."
The little chameleon lizard hissed, its tiny claws scraping at his glove. It was twice as large as the normal lizards and much livelier.
"Red, green, and blue… interesting."
Then—
> "Ding! Tameable animal detected. Would you like to domesticate it?"
Luciel's eyes glinted with surprise — then with excitement.
His second chance had just appeared.