Light.
Ren hadn't realized how much he missed it.
It was faint at first—a thin, pale glow cutting through the darkness ahead.
After everything—
The fighting.
The running.
The blood—
It almost didn't feel real.
"…Ren," Lira whispered, her voice barely holding together. "Is that…?"
He nodded slowly.
"…Yeah."
The exit.
They didn't run this time.
Didn't rush.
They walked.
Each step heavy.
Each breath painful.
But steady.
The narrow tunnel sloped upward, the air gradually changing—less stale, less suffocating. The scent of dust and ancient stone faded, replaced by something lighter.
Wind.
Real wind.
Ren stepped out first.
And stopped.
The sky stretched endlessly above him, painted in soft gold as the sun hovered near the horizon. The world felt too open after the crushing weight of the tomb.
Too… alive.
For a moment—
He just stood there.
Breathing.
"…We made it," Lira said quietly behind him.
Ren let out a long breath.
"…Yeah."
But his body finally gave in.
His legs buckled.
"Ren!" Lira caught him before he hit the ground completely, lowering him carefully.
"You said you could stand!"
"I said… it was enough," he muttered weakly.
She rolled her eyes, though relief softened her expression.
"…Idiot."
They sat there for a moment.
Just outside the Ashen Tombs.
Alive.
But peace didn't last.
"…We need to move," Ren said after a few seconds.
Lira frowned. "Already?"
He nodded slightly.
"They might survive that fight."
The scarred man.
The others.
People like that didn't die easily.
"And if they do," Ren continued, "they'll come after us."
Lira sighed.
"…Of course they will."
She helped him up again, this time slower.
More careful.
"Can you walk?"
"…I don't have a choice."
They moved.
The Ashen Tombs stretched behind them—ruined stone structures scattered across a barren landscape, half-swallowed by time. No one came here unless they were desperate.
Or stupid.
"…We were both," Lira muttered.
Ren huffed faintly. "Speak for yourself."
They followed the narrow path leading away from the tombs, heading toward the distant outline of civilization.
The city.
From afar, it looked like a fortress—high walls, watchtowers, banners fluttering in the wind.
Safe.
Orderly.
But Ren knew better.
"…Oros City," he said quietly.
Lira glanced at him. "You sound like you hate it."
"I don't hate it," he replied.
His expression hardened slightly.
"I just know how it works."
The closer they got, the more signs of life appeared—caravans, merchants, guards at the gates.
Normal people.
People who didn't know how close death felt beneath the earth.
"…We need to sell what we got," Lira said. "Fast."
Ren nodded.
"And the medicine," she added. "We can't forget why we went in there."
Mira.
The name alone was enough.
"I won't," he said.
But as they approached the gates—
Ren slowed.
Something felt… off.
Guards stood at the entrance, more than usual.
Their eyes sharper.
More alert.
And beside them—
Men in dark robes.
Lira noticed it too.
"…Those aren't city guards."
Ren's gaze narrowed.
He recognized the symbol stitched into their sleeves.
A silver vial wrapped in chains.
The Alchemist Union.
"…They're already here," he said quietly.
Lira's expression tightened. "You think… they're looking for us?"
Ren didn't answer.
But his hand clenched slightly.
The faintest flicker of mana sparked—
Then vanished.
"…Maybe not us," he said.
His eyes stayed locked on the robed figures.
"…But something definitely caught their attention."
One of the robed men turned.
Their eyes met.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
The man's gaze lingered.
Sharp.
Interested.
Then he leaned slightly toward one of the guards.
And whispered something.
Ren's stomach tightened.
"…Don't look back," he muttered to Lira.
"…Too late," she whispered. "They're watching us."
Ren exhaled slowly.
The city gates stood open.
So close.
But suddenly—
They didn't feel like safety anymore.
They felt like a trap.
"…Stay calm," he said quietly.
Lira nodded.
Together—
They stepped forward.
Into the world above.
Where power meant everything.
And weakness—
Was hunted.