Getting lucky too many times in a row had always made me uneasy.

  That kind of fortune wasn’t meant for me. If it happened, it usually meant one of two things: the world had made a mistake, or something awful was waiting just ahead.

  That feeling stuck with me as I followed the rocky trail upward.

  The climb ended in a barren stretch of land. No roads. No signs. Just strange, misshapen stones scattered across an isolated patch of nowhere, far from any main route.

  This was my actual destination. The one I had planned to go to after parting ways with Darwyn and Muradin.

  And somehow, after being thrown out of the Dimensional Fracture, I’d landed near it.

  Being sent back safely to the Tower was one thing. But being thrown back randomly to where I was heading? That bordered on impossible.

  My stomach twisted as I approached one of the stones, a curved, horseshoe-shaped lump that reached up to my shin.

  “Well,” I muttered, “at least I’m getting something out of this.”

  I kicked it.

  The stone shattered far too easily, crumbling into brittle fragments.

  Among them, one shard glowed bright yellow, speckled with tiny pink dots. Completely different from the rest.

  What am I supposed to do with this? Don’t tell me I have to eat it.

  I picked it up anyway.

  The moment my fingers touched the shard, its color dissolved into my skin. The glow vanished, leaving behind nothing but a dull, ordinary rock.

  Just like the Stone of Seasons, minus the brutal pain.

  [Magic Resistance +1]

  A faint shift rippled through me. Subtle, but unmistakable.

  “I hope it works the same way it does in the game,” I muttered.

  I smashed another stone.

  This one produced a reddish-green shard.

  “Stamina,” I said, grabbing it.

  [Stamina +1]

  “I really need that,” I added, watching the shard fade into a plain rock.

  I destroyed the remaining stones one by one. Some were ordinary. Others weren’t.

  By the time I stopped, seven bonuses had sunk into me.

  Unfortunately, not a single Wisdom shard appeared.

  “But still…” I rolled my shoulders, testing the changes. “Not bad.”

  [Eryndor Leafshade]

  [Soul Capacity: 1

  Vitality: 4 → 5

  HP Regen: 1 → 2

  Magic Resistance: 3 → 4

  Stamina: 2 → 3

  Strength: 4

  Agility: 7

  Flexibility: 5 → 6

  Movement Speed: 3 → 5

  Wisdom: 39

  Willpower: 134]

  [Spells: Rejuvenation, Windstride, Wind Cutter

  Passives: Enlightenment]

  I glanced at the scattered debris. “Too bad I’ll have to wait a few cycles for this place to reset.”

  After a short rest, I stretched and turned back.

  The return trip felt lighter. Faster. Before I knew it, I was back on familiar ground, moving toward my next destination.

  The Labyrinth.

  Just thinking about it made my heart race. This was the real goal. The place that would make me far stronger than I was now.

  I’d barely taken a few steps…

  Hissssss.

  The sound sliced through the air.

  …Of course.

  Running wasn’t an option.

  That thing wasn’t just fast. It was too fast.

  Morax.

  It resembled a meerkat, if meerkats were the size of wolves and built like siege engines. Thick, segmented plating covered its body, layered so tightly it looked nearly impervious. Beady black eyes locked onto me, filled with a single, unmistakable intent.

  Hunt.

  On paper, it outclassed me in every way. Stronger. Faster. Deadlier.

  But after everything I’d been through… I wasn’t afraid anymore.

  My grip tightened around the Fangbone Scepter. Its familiar weight steadied me as the magic inside hummed.

  If I played this right, I could win.

  [Wind Cutter cast]

  A crescent blade of compressed wind screamed forward and slammed into Morax.

  Whump.

  Dust exploded around its feet. The beast staggered.

  For a second, hope flared in my chest.

  Then the dust cleared.

  Not even a scratch.

  “Tch, as expected.”

  One hit wasn’t enough? Fine.

  I fired again. And again.

  Green blades of wind tore across the clearing, forcing Morax back each time it charged. My heart pounded as I maintained the barrage, refusing to let it breathe.

  Then it adapted.

  Morax stopped charging head-on. It began zigzagging, movements erratic and blindingly fast. My eyes struggled to track it.

  I lost it for just a split second…

  Scratch!

  Agony ripped across my ribs. I gasped as blood soaked into my robes.

  “Damn it!”

  My hand flew to the wound, hot blood seeping between my fingers.

  Morax froze.

  It sniffed the air, nostrils flaring.

  And then it snapped.

  The creature vanished into a blur, circling me at blistering speed. It wasn’t hunting anymore.

  It was frenzied.

  This is bad.

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  [Windstride cast]

  Wind surged through my legs as I leapt backward, firing another Wind Cutter mid-movement.

  It didn’t matter.

  Morax was on me instantly.

  SLASH!

  Pain exploded through my thigh. My leg buckled, and I crashed to the ground, teeth clenched to keep a scream from escaping.

  “Get… back!”

  I swung the scepter and fired point-blank.

  [Wind Cutter cast – effect stacked. Damage increased]

  Morax reeled, but not enough.

  It lunged again.

  I rolled aside, dirt and leaves sticking to the blood soaking my clothes. My heart pounded violently. My breathing came in ragged gasps. Standing was becoming a challenge.

  “Come on… focus!”

  I forced myself upright. Blood streamed freely down my leg. My vision swam.

  But I didn’t look away.

  “Just a little more…”

  [Wind Cutter cast – effect stacked. Damage increased]

  I shouted as I released another.

  [Wind Cutter cast – effect stacked. Damage increased]

  Another.

  The air around me screamed as pressure built. Magic strained against my control until my ears rang.

  Then it broke.

  [Wind Cutter: Max Stacks Reached]

  [Hidden Effect Unlocked — Tornado Slash]

  A shrieking vortex of razor-sharp wind erupted around Morax.

  The monster howled as the storm tore it apart, flesh and armor shredded in a screaming whirlwind.

  When the winds faded, silence remained.

  I’d done it.

  Then I saw it.

  A faint red glimmer.

  I swallowed hard as dread crept back into my chest. That same unease returned, sharp and familiar.

  Another stroke of luck, exactly the kind that never ended well.

  My breath came fast. My body trembled with equal parts exhilaration and fear.

  A small, semi-transparent Soul Fragment lay where Morax had fallen.

  I reached out. My fingers were inches from the fragment’s soft, crimson glow. My heart was still hammering against my ribs from the kill, a triumphant rhythm that drowned out the world.

  Then, the world tilted.

  There was no sound, just a sudden, sickening thud that vibrated through my skull. My vision didn't just go dark. It shattered into a million white sparks. A sharp pain appeared at the back of my head even before I realized I’d been hit.

  I tried to move my muscles, but my arms felt like wet string.

  I couldn’t move.

  ***

  A single, ironclad law bound all adventurers: never raise a hand against another within the Tower’s walls.

  That was why the Royal Guards patrolled the interior as the enforcers of order. Thieves, killers, and even petty looters were punished without mercy.

  But here?

  I was alone.

  No guards and no witnesses.

  My vision returned in patches of light and color. Four silhouettes stood over me. Armed. Armored. Grinning.

  So this was it.

  The thing I had always feared had finally caught up to me. Luck never came free, and mine had been stacking up far too neatly.

  “Heh. Thought you were a monster for a second.”

  The voice was low, devoid of the frantic energy of the fight I’d just survived. I looked up to see a hulking human warrior. He wasn't just a brute, he wore seasoned plate mail, and his warhammer didn't rest on his shoulder. It was held in a ready position, low and dangerous.

  “Well, well,” he said, crouching beside the glowing Soul Fragment. He didn't grab it immediately. He studied it with the clinical eye of a merchant.

  He picked up the fragment. It looked tiny in his calloused hand.

  “So this little beauty was just lying on the ground, waiting for me.” He laughed loudly. “Almost feels like fate, doesn’t it?”

  My fists clenched until my nails bit into my palms. I swallowed the rage before it could choke me.

  There was no mistaking them. I’d seen those faces before, right before entering the Tower. A pack of bottom-feeding scum.

  “That’s mine.” I stepped forward to snatch it back.

  I didn’t even get close.

  He tilted his head, studying me instead of the fragment.

  “You killed it?”

  I nodded once.

  “Good,” he said, almost approvingly. “Saved us the trouble.”

  He swallowed the fragment without ceremony. “Finders keepers only applies if you’re alive to argue.”

  Power rippled through him. His body shuddered as the energy sank deep into his core.

  "Congratulations, boss!" one of his lackeys gushed, practically wagging his tail like a loyal dog. “Your first Soul Fragment!”

  “’Bout damn time,” another snorted, a rat-faced man with a scrawny frame.

  I had barely opened my mouth when a shove slammed into my chest, sending me stumbling back.

  “Careful,” one of them sneered. “Wouldn’t want to break your bones over a misunderstanding.”

  Laughter followed. Cold. Dismissive.

  The warrior’s eyes flicked to my scepter. “Fletcher. Take that.”

  The wiry archer stepped forward.

  I reacted on instinct. Wind Cutter tore through the air.

  The blade grazed past him close enough to shave his cheek. He yelped and jumped back, swearing.

  I seized the moment, scrambling to my feet and running.

  “Don’t move, you fucking druid!”

  The arrow punched through my thigh and my leg simply wasn’t there anymore.

  My weight shifted to compensate, but there was nothing to catch me. I hit the ground before the pain even registered.

  “See? I told you he’d try something!” the archer spat, loosing another arrow.

  I barely managed to deflect it with a frantic burst of wind.

  “Tch. Useless.”

  The warrior shoved the archer aside and marched toward me, his steps heavy, inevitable.

  I reached into my pouch, but it was too late.

  The warhammer struck my leg.

  It wasn't a clean sound. It was the wet, splintering noise of a heavy branch breaking under a boot. The pain didn't hit immediately, first came the cold, then a wave of nausea so violent I dry-heaved into the dirt. Then, the agony arrived, screaming up my nerves like fire finding oil.

  Bone cracked. I didn't realize I was screaming until the sound tore my throat raw.

  Their laughter echoed around me, warped and distant.

  “You chose the hard way,” the warrior said calmly, lifting his weapon again.

  “Leave him alone!”

  A shout rang out behind me, followed by a blast of Mana that forced the warrior to raise his hammer defensively.

  That voice…

  “Boss! Too many of them!” the rat-faced man yelled, panic breaking through his bravado.

  “Back off and leave,” my savior shouted again. “Or we won’t stay idle.”

  The warrior clicked his tongue, stepping back. “Pray we don’t meet again.”

  They withdrew at last, hurling curses and jeers as they disappeared into the distance.

  Guilt and shame settled heavy in my chest as I turned toward my rescuer.

  A familiar, irritatingly smug face greeted me.

  “Mm… thanks,” I muttered, unable to meet his eyes.

  “So it was you,” he snorted. “If I’d known, I would’ve let them finish the job.”

  I stayed quiet.

  “What? Cat got your tongue?” he mocked with a laugh. “Where’s that usual arrogance?”

  “I’m sorry for what I said back then,” I said quietly, swallowing my pride. “And… thank you. For saving my life.”

  This time, I looked straight at him.

  Gorlan Pigg.

  Or, as I usually called him, Piggy.

  The last person I ever expected to come to my rescue. And he wasn’t alone, eight other druids stood around him.

  Piggy snorted. “Where’s your whiny little friend?”

  “Alwen is dead,” I said flatly. “I’m the only one left.”

  For a moment, Piggy looked genuinely startled. He quickly masked it, turning away with a grunt. “Sorry to hear that,” he said, already walking off.

  Two druids knelt beside me as the others secured the area.

  “Don’t move,” one of them warned. “This will sting.”

  He yanked the arrow fragments free and forced my broken leg back into place.

  Agony ripped through me. I bit down hard to keep from screaming.

  The second druid followed at once, chanting softly. Green tendrils wrapped around my leg, warm and alive, knitting bone and flesh together.

  I exhaled shakily, staring at the softly glowing vines.

  “They draw on your Mana to accelerate healing,” she explained calmly. “You were lucky we were nearby. Gorlan noticed you first.”

  “I guess I was,” I said weakly, extending a hand. “Eryndor Leafshade.”

  “Allana Oren.” She shook it firmly. “And we know you. You caused quite a stir during the Sacred Blessing Ceremony. Not many newborns catch the attention of both the Archdruid and the Shaman.”

  …Was I famous among druids?

  That was new.

  “Were you all traveling together?” I asked.

  “It’s complicated,” Allana replied. “Two teams. We crossed paths in the Northern Glades and somehow ended up here.”

  It must be the Glade of Lost Paths.

  “So, what’s your plan?” I asked. “I doubt you’re heading back.”

  “Of course not. Too far,” she said. “We’ll explore this area and enter the portal on the last day.”

  That was actually a smart plan. Rushing straight to the portal would have been suicide. Edenfall was no place for newborn druids.

  “I can show you the way to the portal,” I said. “It’s the least I can do.”

  We talked while my leg finished healing. Allana told me how Gorlan had once dragged her out of a hopeless fight without hesitation.

  It felt strange, realizing Piggy wasn’t nearly as awful as he pretended to be.

  She invited me to join them. I refused politely, even after she tried a few more times.

  “Follow that trail,” I said, pointing. “Turn right at the fork. It leads back to the main road. The portal’s at the end.”

  “Are you sure you won’t come with us?” Allana asked one last time.

  “I’m sure.”

  As they prepared to leave, Gorlan stopped in front of me and pressed a heavy finger to my forehead.

  “Just remember,” he said gruffly, “I’m still settling the score with you once we get back to Willow’s End. Don’t you dare die.”

  “Relax, Piggy,” I grinned. “I won’t give you a reason to miss me that badly.”

  “Tsk. You and your damn mouth,” he muttered, pushing my forehead once more.

  We parted ways, walking in opposite directions.

  My leg held firm, but every step felt like I was dragging it through deep mud. The healing had mended the bone, but it had stripped the marrow of its fire.

  Just a little farther now.

  The Labyrinth awaited, and it didn’t care whether I was ready.

  MILESTONES

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