The last guardian's fragments had barely stopped glowing when the group stood in the quiet aftermath.
Hiroto lowered his sword, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face. His hands were still trembling slightly from the adrenaline and the fading Sync. The power that had rushed through him moments ago was gone, leaving behind a strange, heavy exhaustion mixed with an uncomfortable heat low in his belly.
Every time I do this, the weight gets heavier. I'm scared that one day they'll look at me and expect me to carry all of them — their safety, their desires, their future. I'm scared I'll fail them. But what scares me even more is how much I want that weight. How much I want them to need me. Not just for protection… but for everything. Because if I can't be that person, then I'm still the same weak guy who fell into this world.
Alyra was the first to move. She sheathed her shortsword and stepped close, her tail curling around his waist possessively. Her hand rested on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat, then slid lower, brushing the front of his pants with deliberate teasing.
"You didn't back down," she murmured, voice low and warm. "Watching you fight like that… it did things to me."
Hiroto caught her hand gently but firmly, holding it against his chest.
"Not now," he said, voice steady. "We're still deep in the grove. We need to stay sharp."
Alyra pouted, but her eyes sparkled with delight at his tone. She didn't pull away completely, instead pressing her body a little closer.
Sylvara lowered her sword and scanned the area one last time. She glanced at Hiroto, her expression calm but her eyes carrying quiet approval.
"You're improving," she said. "Your timing with the Sync is getting better. But you still hesitate at the start. That hesitation could cost us one day."
Hiroto nodded, accepting the critique.
"I know. I felt it. The panic hits first… then the power. I need to make the power come faster."
Lirael, who had been silently cleaning her daggers a few steps away, finally spoke. She sheathed them and walked over, stopping close enough that Hiroto could feel the heat radiating from her body.
"You didn't run," she said, voice low and slightly surprised. "Most males would have folded the moment those things appeared. You stepped forward instead." She tilted her head, a faint, dangerous smile touching her lips. "It was almost… attractive. Don't let it go to your head."
The System chimed in Hiroto's mind, sounding far too amused.
[Oh wow. Three futanari just watched you swing a sword and didn't laugh.
That's basically a proposal in this world.
Current harem tension level: Rising fast.
Warning: If you get hard again right now, I'm starting a betting pool on who jumps you first.]
Hiroto mentally sighed.
"…Not helping."
Lirael raised an eyebrow.
"Talking to your invisible friend again? How charming."
Hiroto looked at all three of them — one by one — and spoke with quiet but clear authority.
"Tonight, when we make camp," he said, "we're going to talk. About what happened last night. About what this is becoming. And about what I want going forward."
The group continued through the glowing ruins. The mist grew a faint purple tint. Tall trunks covered in pulsing runes surrounded them.
Lirael walked closer to Hiroto than before, her shoulder occasionally brushing his.
"You're getting dangerous," she said softly, only for him to hear. "I hope you're ready for what happens when we stop playing nice."
Hiroto didn't smile, but there was a new fire in his eyes.
"So am I."
The real battle in Mistwood had never been just survival.
It was learning how to carry the weight of what he was starting to crave — and how much he was willing to risk to claim it.