The first thing I felt wasn't the soft feathers of the Ducal bed, but the throbbing, rhythmic ache in my left hand. My fingers felt like they were being held in a forge.
"You are awake. A miracle, considering the sheer amount of blood you left on the kitchen floor."
I forced my eyes open. The sun was streaming through the tall, arched windows of my quarters. The butler stood at the foot of the bed, his white gloves spotless, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"The Duke has already departed for the Imperial Capital," the butler continued, bowing slightly.
"But he left instructions. You are to be fed, mended, and kept under close watch. He also wished for me to convey his... gratitude. You saved the Young Lady. In this house, that is the only currency that matters."
"Alisa," I croaked, my throat feeling like it was full of glass. "Where is she?"
"In her chambers. Master Elian has not left her side since the bells of dawn."
I didn't wait for a permission I knew wasn't coming. I threw back the silk sheets, ignored the dizzying spin of the room, and stumbled toward the door. My hand was wrapped in heavy, medicinal bandages, the shape of it distorted where the Duke had broken my bone.
She was stabbed in the heart, I thought, my mind racing through the game's logic.
The Sun-Blade is a conceptual erase. Even a grazing blow should have turned her to mist.
As I hurried through the corridors,
I passed two mages dressed in the azure robes of the Ducal Court. They were whispering, their heads huddled together.
"I heard the 'Hero' turned to ash," one whispered, a sneer clear in his voice.
"Shame he didn't take the little monster with him. If she dies tonight, this whole estate finally breathes again."
"Quiet," the second hissed, though he didn't disagree.
"Her behavior was always erratic, If the Prince's sword didn't finish her, the corruption will. Better she stays asleep forever."
I stopped for a split second, my good hand clenching into a fist. I wanted to turn around and shove their azure robes down their throats, but Alisa didn't have time for my spite. I ignored them and ran.
I pushed open the doors to her room.
The air was thick with the smell of bitter herbs and concentrated mana. Master Elian, the High Healer, was slumped in a chair by the bed, his face pale and his eyes rimmed with red. He looked like a man who had been fighting a war and was losing.
Alisa lay in the center of the massive bed. She looked like a porcelain doll someone had tried to shatter.
Her skin was a translucent grey, and every few seconds, a flicker of dark, jagged mana would ripple under her collarbone, as if her own soul was trying to tear its way out.
"Alisa?" I whispered, stepping to the bedside. "Can you hear me?"
Silence. Only the faint, ragged sound of her breathing replied.
"She is stable, for now," Elian said, his voice a dry rasp.
"But do not be deceived. Prince Arthur was an arrogant fool. His 'Faith' was shallow, which meant the Sun-Blade only functioned at half its capacity. Had he been a true believer, she would have vanished instantly. As it is... the blade didn't kill her. It just broke the seal on her heart."
"How long?" I asked, looking at the flickering darkness under her skin.
"I have exhausted every high-tier potion in the North. I have spent enough mana to power a siege engine just to keep her lungs moving,"
Elian sighed, rubbing his temples. "It will last a month. Perhaps five or six if she remains in a coma. But eventually, the 'Calamity' mana will overwrite her life force. I cannot save her, Leo. There is no spell in the human tongue for this."
The room went dead silent. The weight of the "Game Over" screen I'd dodged in Chapter 1 felt like it was finally catching up.
Elian's eyes remained fixed on Alisa's pale face, his voice dropping to a somber, hollow tone.
"However... there is one way. If you truly wish to save her."
I straightened my back, ignoring the white-hot needles of pain in my ribs. "Tell me. What is it?"
"There is a legend," Elian began, the words sounding heavy, as if pulled from a forbidden archive. "Near the small Kingdom of Oakhaven, to the east, lies the Whispering Woods. Deep within sits the Hollow Behemoth. Seven hundred years ago, a mysterious figure shattered the divine barrier of a 'Holy Land'—a village where angel-like spirits lived. They were defenseless. The Behemoth devoured them all, becoming a living prison for those innocent souls."
My mind clicked. I knew this. In the game, players called it the 'Buggy Forest' because the drop rates were trash.
"It is said that if the Behemoth is slain," Elian continued,
"the spirits will grant a single 'Wish' in the form of a potion. The Soul Exception. It is a draught of pure mercy, the only thing capable of forgiving the 'sin' of a Sun-Blade wound and scrubbing the corruption from her heart."
"Then why are we standing here?" I snapped, desperation making my voice harsh. "Send the Duke's knights. Send Kael. They can butcher that thing in an afternoon!"
"It is not that simple," Elian sighed, his shoulders slumping.
"The souls within the Behemoth are sensitive to the 'corruption of intent.' If a battalion attacks, or if even a second blade touches the beast, the spirits sense the weight of war. The wish vanishes. It becomes a standard hunt, and the Soul Exception will never manifest. It requires a solo kill, Leo. One soul, risking everything against a monster that hasn't been seen in decades."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"Decades?"
"The Behemoth is a ghost," Elian whispered.
"It spawns once in a blue moon, shifting through the dimensions of the forest. Some hunters spend their entire lives searching and find nothing but trees. To find it, kill it, and return within the few months she has left... it is statistically impossible. You would be chasing a shadow while she withers away."
The confidence I'd been trying to maintain cracked. In the game, you could just 'reset' or wait for a world-boss timer. There was no timer... No map marker. Just a vast, terrifying forest and a ticking clock. My stomach twisted.
I was a level-one nobody with a broken hand. How was I supposed to track a legendary phantom and kill it alone?
"And more than that," Elian added, looking at my bandaged hand with pity. "The 'Wish' requires a soul untainted by the political rot of this world. The Duke's knights are executioners. His mages are power-hungry. To an angel, they are all stained. You, however... you are a boy who risked everything for no gain. In the eyes of the spirits, you are the only one innocent enough to trigger the mercy—if you can even find the beast."
I looked at my shaking hands. The hopelessness was a cold weight in my chest. In the game, the "Wish" was a randomized gacha spin. Most people got useless junk like a rusted spoon or a handful of gold. It was a sucky mechanic that made players rage-quit.
But I remembered the hidden pity system. The "Grief-Factor." If you entered the fight with a high 'Despair' threshold—if the game recognized you had absolutely nothing left to lose—the odds shifted from a 0.01% chance to a guarantee.
"I'm going," I said, though my voice lacked its earlier strength. "I have to. Keep her breathing, Elian. Give me every second you can."
I looked down at Alisa. a extra in this world, heading toward a forest that even high-level players feared. The odds were impossible, and I was terrified, but as the dark sparks flickered on her chest, I knew I couldn't stay.
"I'll be back," I whispered, the lie feeling like lead in my mouth. "And I'm bringing the cure."
I found Kael in the training yard, the dawn light glinting off his unsheathed steel. I didn't stop until I was inches from him, my head bowed so low my chin touched my chest.
"Train me," I rasped, my voice cracking.
"Brutally. I need every ounce of strength you can beat into me before I leave."
Kael paused, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. He leaned on the pommel of his greatsword, looking down at my trembling frame.
"Oh? Is the little shadow ashamed?" he chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth.
"Are you finally realizing how pathetic it is to fail at protecting your owner? How prophetic... the boy who played at being a guardian is finally facing reality."
He stepped closer, his shadow looming over me like a shroud. "And now, while she lies there dying, clinging to a thread of life, you plan to tuck your tail and run? You want to leave her side when she's at the brink of the abyss?"
"I'm not running," I whispered, my good hand clenching until the knuckles turned white.
"I'm going to get the only thing that can bring her back. But I won't make it to the forest gate if I stay this weak."
Kael's eyes flickered with a cold, newfound interest. "Then pick up the sword, boy. If you want to survive the Whispering Woods, I'll make sure you pray for death before the sun sets."