After hours of broken walking…
And even more hours stopping every few minutes just to make sure nothing was following the scent of blood.
In this forest, blood wasn't just a wound.
It was an invitation.
And the last thing Rolin wanted right now…
was to become a walking meal.
At last, he found shelter.
A massive hollow tree.
Its interior was wider than it looked from the outside, and the darkness inside was too deep for the eye to pierce easily.
He slipped inside silently.
A few seconds later—
The strange light glowing from the trees began to dim again.
It faded slowly…
until it became nothing more than a weak glimmer, like the last spark of a dying ember.
Then—
It vanished.
Darkness returned.
Thick darkness… swallowing every thread of light as if it had never existed.
Rolin quietly pulled a few fallen branches over the entrance, careful not to make a sound.
Then he finally sat down.
Silence.
The kind of silence that comes after survival…
not safety.
His gaze dropped to his clothes.
The black coat…
torn across the chest and stomach…
was slowly repairing itself.
Threads slid back into place.
The tears closed.
The fabric itself moved in faint, subtle motions—
as if it were a living thing healing its own wounds.
"Runes…" Rolin murmured.
The runic inscriptions hidden within the coat had to be the reason.
Armor that required no mana.
No activation.
It simply worked.
A rare advantage…
Almost suspiciously convenient.
For a moment, he thought of Latifia.
And the last words she said to him when they parted.
Those words…
The more he remembered them, the stranger they felt.
He exhaled quietly and pushed the thought away.
"At least… something cares about me."
But when he looked at his skin—
Nothing happened.
The deep slash across his chest was still open.
The wound beneath his stomach was bleeding slowly.
His right wrist was badly swollen.
No regeneration.
No magical healing.
He had lost his core.
And with it… the small privilege that most creatures in this damned world possessed.
He calmly took out his tools.
A flask of water.
A piece of cloth.
A needle and thread.
First, he pressed down on the largest wound.
His teeth clenched.
Then—
He pushed the needle through his own skin.
He didn't scream.
One stitch.
Another.
Another.
Sweat rolled down his forehead, but his hand never trembled.
For most people, stitching their own body might have been horrifying.
But for Rolin—
who had stood one step away from death more times than he could count—
This pain…
was nothing worth mentioning.
When he finished, he wrapped the bandage tightly around his chest.
Then he treated the rest of the wounds one by one.
Finally…
He leaned back against the wooden interior of the trunk.
In front of him—
Likath was pacing around inside the hollow tree, almost as if he were showing off his new form.
A crimson wolf.
Roughly the size of a normal wolf…
But the faint flames dancing between his fur were enough to remind anyone that he was not natural.
Likath snorted.
"Looks like both of us got a new appearance."
He stopped and looked at Rolin.
Then he continued mockingly,
"I've become a magnificent being…"
His gaze dropped to the bandaged human.
"…and you—"
He paused deliberately.
"Well… you look even closer to a bag of meat than before."
Rolin shot him a sharp glare.
"Shut up."
Likath muttered under his breath,
"Your sense of humor is tragically low."
Rolin inhaled slowly.
Then… he felt something.
Not pain.
Power.
Faint…
But unmistakable.
A crooked smile appeared on his face.
Likath spoke immediately.
"You really should work on that smile, my friend."
One crimson eye opened slightly.
"You look uglier than before."
Rolin ignored him completely.
His muscles felt heavier…
but tighter.
His breathing was deeper.
His hearing… slightly sharper.
He raised his hand.
Clenched it.
Then said slowly,
"I'm…"
He looked at Likath.
"Stronger."
The crimson wolf smiled.
"Of course."
His crimson eye opened fully this time.
"You took a part of me."
He paused.
Then added in a more unsettling tone,
"Or… more accurately, you reclaimed a part of yourself."
Rolin frowned.
Likath stretched lazily.
"When I devoured that idiot, I absorbed his essence."
His burning tail flicked lightly.
"But I can't keep all of it."
He paused.
"As long as you are my contractor."
He glanced at his new body.
"So the power split."
A sly grin appeared.
"If I had kept it all… I'd be his size right now."
He paused again.
"Maybe bigger."
Then he gestured toward Rolin with his tail.
"But part of it settled inside you."
Silence filled the hollow trunk.
Rolin looked down at his hands again.
"So that's why… you didn't grow."
"Correct."
Likath stepped closer.
This time his voice carried less amusement.
"But don't get used to it."
His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
"The stronger creatures we kill…"
He paused.
"The stronger both of us become."
Rolin smiled tiredly.
"So… this world isn't completely terrible."
Likath bared his fangs.
"This world…"
His crimson eyes glimmered.
"…raises monsters."
Then he stared directly at Rolin.
"The question is, Roli…"
he whispered.
"Will you become one of them?"
Rolin didn't answer.
Not because the question was meaningless.
But because the answer…
Wasn't clear even to him.
Would he become a monster with time?
Or had he—
Always been one?
He lifted his head slightly.
Something caught his attention.
Deep inside the trunk…
The darkness looked different.
Not just a shadow.
A void.
He leaned forward.
The hollow tree extended downward.
A tunnel.
Narrow.
Hidden between tangled roots.
Without the faint firelight from Likath…
He would have never noticed it.
Strangely…
The light didn't illuminate the tunnel.
It looked as if the darkness was swallowing it.
Rolin spoke quietly.
"Look behind you."
"Huh?"
Likath turned—
Then immediately jumped back.
He had been only one step away from the opening.
He stared down into it.
Then said slowly,
"Was… this here from the beginning?"
Rolin replied dryly,
"Of course, mighty being."
Then added,
"Don't tell me you're afraid of holes."
Likath's fur bristled slightly.
"I—! That's impossible!"
Then he muttered,
"I know your fate, meat bag."
Rolin smirked.
"Sure you do, oh mighty being… scared of holes."
The flames around Likath flared slightly.
Clearly annoyed.
But Rolin ignored him.
He walked toward the opening.
Knelt down.
Picked up a small stone.
And dropped it into the darkness.
The stone fell…
Fell…
Fell…
Longer than he expected.
Then—
Tok.
A distant impact.
Rolin said calmly,
"Deep."
Likath spoke quickly, trying to regain his pride.
"Then there's no reason to get closer."
He paused.
"We'll just waste time."
Rolin replied instantly.
"We're going in."
"Whaaaat?!"
Likath jumped.
"Impossible! You're an idiot!"
Rolin stared into the darkness.
"Maybe we'll find something useful."
"A weapon."
"Armor."
"A charm."
Likath answered immediately,
"Or maybe we'll find a disaster taking a nap down there."
Rolin smiled.
A calm… unsettling smile.
"Then we'll get a quick ending."
Likath froze for a moment.
Then sighed deeply.
He knew this well.
Trying to convince Rolin to retreat…
was like trying to convince a rock to become water.
He looked down into the tunnel again.
Into the endless darkness below.
And deep inside it—
For one very brief moment—
It almost seemed like something
was looking up.
But when he blinked…
There was nothing there.