Silence had returned to the chamber, broken only by the crackle of the remaining torches.

  “Well, let’s grab what’s in the chest and get out of here. A bit of fresh air will do us good,” Alynia said with a faint smile.

  She stepped toward the chest, crouching with a grimace. Placing one hand on it, she unlatched the clasp and pushed the lid open with a metallic creak. Veil came closer, his eyes fixing on what lay inside.

  At its center rested a golden sphere, releasing strange ripples that blurred the air around it, as though heat waves shimmered from its surface.

  “Seriously? We went through all of that for some weird orb? We risked our lives for this, Alynia?” Veil asked, his tone edged with frustration.

  “This ‘weird orb’, as you put it, is important. It’s… well, I don’t know what it is, but the Guild will. Either way, we didn’t go through all that just to leave empty-handed, right?” she answered. Then, glancing at the dagger on his belt, she added, “Though I’ll admit, you got luckier than I did.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know who these Guild people are, but they sound just as twisted as the monsters we fought, sending you in here,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

  “Stop whining. We made it to the end, and we’re still alive. That’s what matters, isn’t it?” she said as she straightened.

  She slipped the orb into her pouch, then swept the room with her gaze.

  “Alright… where is it? I think we’ve had enough of being underground. It’s time to leave,” she murmured.

  Veil opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but before he could speak, a melody echoed around them. A reddish glow drew his eyes to the ground, where a circle etched with strange patterns began to form.

  “What now? More trouble?” he sighed, shoulders sagging.

  “No, Little Wolf. That’s our way out. We’ll finally breathe fresh air again—and face monsters a little friendlier than that one,” Alynia explained.

  They moved toward the circle, though Veil’s steps were uncertain. Alynia stepped into the center and extended her hand toward him.

  “If it’s your first time, take my hand. It isn’t painful, but the feeling is… strange at first. If it helps, hold on to me—it should ease the sensation. You can trust me,” she said, noticing his hesitation.

  “Trust you? Like when you said this dungeon wouldn’t be complicated, huh?” he replied with a crooked grin.

  “Alright, I was wrong once. Believe me, I’d rather my info had been right than end up in this state,” she answered sincerely. “Come on, this time it’s over.”

  Veil grasped her hand and stepped forward, though doubt still lingered in his mind. At once, a strange warmth surged through him, unsettling yet comforting, spreading across his entire body. He shut his eyes, unwilling to see what would happen.

  Then the warmth gave way to nothingness—a total void, as if everything around him had vanished. He tried to open his eyes, but his lids remained shut, his body refusing his will. Time dragged on endlessly, but the steady presence of Alynia’s hand reassured him.

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  And then, without warning, it ended. His body lurched as if spinning at breakneck speed, until he crashed to the ground. A biting cold stung his hands.

  He slowly opened his eyes, the brightness making it hard to see. Raising a hand to shield his face, he made out a white forest, its vast trees stretching skyward.

  “We… we’re back in the forest? How’s that possible?” he asked in disbelief.

  “It’s… it’s a teleporter. It… brings us back… to where the… gate is,” Alynia answered, her voice faint and strained.

  Veil spun around at her words, just in time to see her stagger and collapse to her knees.

  “Hey, hey, what’s this now? Alynia, this isn’t the time!” he said, panic seeping into his voice.

  But Alynia slumped to the ground, rolling onto her side. Veil’s eyes widened at the dark red stain spreading across her robe. She had lost too much blood—her wound hadn’t closed after all the fighting.

  He rushed to her, lifting her head with trembling hands. His gaze fell on the source of the wound, just beneath her ribs—a deep gash carved under the torn fabric of her robe.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Damn it, why didn’t you tell me sooner? How the hell am I supposed to carry you like this?” Veil cursed, torn between fear and frustration.

  There was no time to think—only to act.

  Clenching his teeth, he slid his left arm beneath her knees. Pain ripped through his own battered body, forcing a cry from his throat, but he hoisted her up, pressing her head against his shoulder. He glanced frantically around, desperate for shelter.

  His eyes caught on the dungeon gate.

  “Maybe we can take cover there… The doors opened from the outside,” he muttered.

  He staggered forward, but before he reached it, the runes on the gate began to fade. One by one, the glowing marks extinguished, leaving nothing but smooth stone. Then a sudden gust scattered the gate into dust, dispersing it into the air.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Who the hell designs something like this?!” he snarled, scanning the forest.

  With no choice, he pushed forward, quickening his pace, praying he wouldn’t run into a monster before finding shelter.

  After several long minutes, he spotted a fissure in the cliffside. Drawing closer, he saw it wasn’t large—but just enough for the two of them. He laid Alynia down gently, then stepped inside to make sure it was empty.

  Satisfied, he carried her in and propped her against the wall of the shallow cave. Without wasting time, he rushed back out, gathering wood from nearby trees and snapping branches despite the strain. His left arm bled freely under the effort, but he clenched his teeth until they ground together.

  “I need to warm her, treat her… the rest can wait. If I fall now, everything we’ve done will have been for nothing,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Come on, just hold on. I don’t want to face that thing again…”

  Returning to the cave, he arranged the wood, then hurried back to Alynia and reached for her satchel. Inside, he quickly found what he needed: thread and a needle.

  In his haste, the needle slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground, the dirt clinging to the tiny curved point.

  “Damn it, focus, idiot,” he growled, snatching it back up.

  He filled a small cup with water and set it above the fire until it began to boil. Once it was ready, he dipped the needle into the steaming water before turning back to Alynia.

  Gently, he eased her forward, untying the laces of her corset. He pulled her robe down to her waist, careful to keep her undergarments in place, then leaned her back against the wall once more.

  “Sorry, Alynia… I don’t have a choice,” Veil whispered, shame flickering in his voice.

  He threaded the hot needle, then brought it to her wound. His hands trembled as he swallowed hard and slid the metal under her skin.

  For several long seconds, he repeated the motion, careful and steady, until the gash was fully closed. Sweat dripped from his brow, panic gnawing at him with every stitch. He cut the thread with his teeth, tying it off with another quick loop to keep it in place.

  Then, stripping off his shirt, he tore it into two wide strips, binding them together before laying them across the wound. He dressed her carefully and eased her back against the wall, finally letting himself slump down with a long, shaky sigh.

  “At least you should be safe now. But why did that feel so natural? I’ve never done this before… Why can’t I remember anything, even now?” he murmured, frustration heavy in his voice.

  Though the questions circled in his mind, his eyes fell to his own arm. He unwrapped the blood-soaked cloth. The Hydra’s bite was far too deep—thread alone wouldn’t close it.

  He drew the strange dagger and, without knowing why, pressed its blade against his wound. Nothing happened.

  “Tch. What was I expecting? As if a weapon could heal,” he muttered bitterly. “But heat… heat could seal it.”

  He set the dagger in the flames, turning it until the metal glowed a mix of orange and red. Lifting it out, fear tightened his chest. He grabbed a stick, wedged it between his teeth, and bit down hard as he brought the searing blade close to his arm. The heat alone brought tears to his eyes.

  Then, in one swift motion, he pressed the weapon against his flesh.

  The stench of burning skin filled the cave, nausea rising in his throat. Agonizing pain exploded through him, each breath ragged, broken. He seared the other side of the wound as well, until finally the blood ceased to flow. Turning his eyes away from the charred skin, he collapsed to the ground, wet-eyed, jaw clenched.

  “If I ever run into another Hydra, I swear I’ll rip out every last one of its damn teeth,” he growled through gritted teeth.

  Crawling out of the shallow cave, he pressed his burned arm into the snow. His face eased as the icy sting cooled his flesh, steam rising where snow melted against the heat of his wound.

  After several minutes, he dragged himself back to the fire. Shirtless, the cold bit into him immediately. He pulled on the jacket Alynia had once given him and leaned against the rock wall.

  His gaze softened at the sight of Alynia sleeping, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

  His own eyelids grew heavy despite his fight to stay awake.

  “Just a little rest… can’t hurt,” he muttered with a yawn.

  At last, his eyes closed, surrendering to the darkness. Only the crackle of the fire and the whisper of the wind outside disturbed the silence.

  The dungeon was behind them now… but their journey in this world had only just begun.