Rolin collapsed onto the burning ground.
His body hit the scorched surface with a dull thud—but the pain that followed wasn't physical. It felt deeper… as if something inside him was cracking apart. His burns were severe, his wounds deep, and every inch of his body trembled on the edge of collapse. For a brief moment, he truly thought this was the end.
Without a word, Likath disappeared back into his chest.
Gone.
Sleeping.
Leaving him alone in the aftermath of a living hell.
For a few seconds, nothing changed. The fire crackled faintly around him, the air still heavy with the scent of burnt flesh and something far worse. Rolin lay there, breathing unevenly, waiting for the darkness to swallow him whole.
Then—
Something shifted.
A faint tremor passed through his body. Then another.
The pain… began to fade.
Slowly. Unnaturally.
The bleeding stopped first. The burns followed—not healed, but no longer devouring him alive. His body steadied, his breathing eased, and the overwhelming agony that had consumed him moments ago began to loosen its grip.
Rolin's eyes widened slightly.
"…How?"
The answer surfaced almost immediately.
That power.
The overwhelming force that had surged into him the moment that thing collapsed—no… the moment it was freed.
Freed.
Because whatever that creature had been… it hadn't resisted. It hadn't fought for survival. It had accepted its end.
Rolin exhaled quietly.
"…So that's it."
He could feel it now.
The energy inside him had weakened. Not vanished—but diminished. A portion of it had been consumed.
Used.
To heal him.
His brows slowly furrowed.
How does this work…?
Does it depend on the severity of my injuries? If I'm badly wounded, the energy heals me… and if I'm not, it strengthens me?
He shook his head.
"No…"
That didn't add up.
If that were the case… then the power I gained from the wolf should have healed me too.
But it didn't.
Silence lingered as his thoughts deepened.
Rolin closed his eyes briefly, analyzing, comparing, searching for the difference.
Then—
He found it.
His eyes opened again, slower this time.
"…My soul."
The word left his lips in a quiet whisper.
My soul was damaged.
That's why the energy reacted.
Not to my body… but to something deeper.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared.
"…So it prevents me from breaking completely."
He exhaled.
Even so, he didn't fully understand it. This "energy"—he didn't know what it truly was, where it came from, or what rules governed it.
So he did the simplest thing he could.
He gave it a name.
Energy.
For now… that was enough.
But one thing remained certain.
That power—
It wasn't random.
It was something he had been given.
No… something he had been told he deserved.
"…I'll give you what you deserve."
That voice echoed faintly in his mind. Calm. Gentle.
And out of everything it had said, that sentence was the most unsettling.
Because after it—
Everything had changed.
Likath.
His restored arm.
His eye.
His survival.
His growing strength.
And now—
This.
Healing.
Power.
A path.
Rolin's gaze darkened slightly.
Are they all connected…? Or am I just forcing meaning into chaos?
And if they were—
What are the limits?
Will I keep receiving more… depending on what I do?
Or is there a point where it ends?
And the most important question—
What kind of existence can grant something like this…?
And why me?
Silence answered him.
As always.
Then—
A thought surfaced.
Sudden. Sharp.
"…Swords."
His fingers twitched slightly.
Break the swords.
That phrase again.
But what did it mean?
Not literal swords. It couldn't be that simple.
A symbol?
A title?
A group?
A place?
Enemies…?
Or something far worse?
Rolin frowned.
If that entity is powerful enough to grant me all this… then why doesn't it act on its own?
More questions.
No answers.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Tch."
His gaze shifted.
The crimson flames were beginning to fade, devouring the last remnants of rotten flesh and black vegetation. And as the fire weakened—
The truth of the place revealed itself.
Rolin's eyes narrowed.
"…What is this?"
This wasn't just a cavern.
It was a room.
A massive chamber.
Black stone tiles stretched beneath his feet. Cracked walls surrounded him, old… ancient. The opening they had entered from—was nothing more than a wide window.
And around the chamber—
More windows.
Sealed.
Buried beneath dirt and blackened stone from the outside.
This place had been hidden.
Forgotten.
Rolin slowly pushed himself up.
Step by step, he walked toward the center of the room—toward where the grotesque prison had once existed.
The flames there… hadn't faded.
They burned stronger.
Sharper.
As if something remained.
Something important.
Rolin stopped.
"…What is that?"
He stepped closer.
One step.
Then another.
And then—
He froze.
His pupils shrank.
For a moment, he said nothing.
He simply stared.
Then—
A slow smile spread across his face.
Not relief.
Not joy.
Something colder.
"…So this is what was hidden…"
At the very center—
Where the prison had collapsed—
Something remained.
Not flesh.
Not ash.
But—
An artifact.
Resting in silence.
As if it had been waiting…
For him.