Rogue blurred into motion, his daggers flashing as he crit stabbed the first fox, muttering "Ggez."
The second fox leapt for Ellie, aiming for her throat. She didn't flinch. Her [Gale-Sliver Rapier] hummed, a pink and gold blur of steel that pierced the fox's heart mid-air. She landed with a graceful spin, her skirt fluttering just enough to catch Rogue's eye, making him trip over a root.
The third fox made the fatal mistake of lunging at the mountain of black metal.
Liam didn't even draw his sword. He caught the fox mid-air by the throat with his left hand. The [Vulcan Gauntlet] hissed, a faint orange glow emanating from the seams of the armour.
"Elizabeth, the small pan," Liam said, his voice dropping into that deep, authoritative rumble that made Ellie's ears twitch involuntarily.
"Wait, now?" Ellie blinked. "We're in the middle of a clear!"
"The meat is freshest when the code is still cooling," Liam said. He sat down right there in the dirt, pulled out his portable hearth, and to the absolute horror of Mirra and Rogue began skinning the fox with the clinical precision of a Michelin-star chef.
"He's... he's actually doing it," Rogue whispered, crouching nearby. "He hasn't changed at all. Four days in a death game and he's still the same psycho who tried to grill a slime because it looked like gelatin."
"It's been four days, Rogue," Liam muttered, tossing a handful of [Hearth-Chestnuts] into a dry pan. "If you don't adapt, you starve. And if you starve, you die. I'm just cutting out the middleman."
The aroma hit them like a physical force. The chestnuts began to pop, releasing a rich, buttery, roasted scent that smelled like a high-end winter festival.
"Eat these," Liam said, tossing a handful to each of them. "They make you smell like roasted chestnuts for a week. It's a scent mask. Predators won't track us, and it provides a minor HP regen buff."
While they crunched on the tactical snacks, Liam pulled out a dark, shimmering essence he'd harvested from the [Shadow-Stalker Alpha] earlier. He mixed it with ground beans and boiling water, the liquid turning a deep, abyssal black that seemed to swirl with its own gravity.
"Drink," Liam ordered, handing a cup to Mirra. "You look like you're about to keel over from a midlife crisis."
Mirra took a sip, and her eyes practically turned into dinner plates. "Oh... oh my god. This is better than the $12 artisan roast back in the city. I feel like my soul just got a firmware update."
Rogue chugged his and twitched. "Bro! Shadows! Pockets! I'm the Shadow Monarch!"
"You're just addicted to caffeine," Liam said, sipping his brew. The shadows hugged his ankles, eager to pull him under.
"Liam," Ellie said softly, stepping closer. Her golden gaze shimmered. "How do you move so fast in all that metal? The ground cracks, but you move like a ghost."
Liam stood up, the massive basalt plates of his armour shifting with a sound like grinding stone, yet his movements were eerily fluid.
"Perk," he said.
"Thirty minutes, peak caffeine," Liam said, eyes glowing at the southern creek. "Rogue, stop playing. Truffle-Hogs before sundown. Move."
"Sir, yes, sir!" Rogue saluted, already blurring toward the treeline with his coffee-boosted speed.
Mirra sighed, finishing her cup. "You know, for a game... the catering is five stars."
One second, the party was buzzing on [Shadow-Stalker Coffee], their veins humming with liquid adrenaline. Next, the chirping of the Tana Forest insects cut out into a dead, pressurised silence. A thick, violet mist began to coil around their boots, smelling faintly of jasmine and rotting meat.
Liam's hand flew to the hilt of his basalt greatsword, his red eyes narrowing. In his mind, a voice like warm honey and shifting embers resonated—the divine frequency of Hestia.
"Liam... be wary," the Goddess whispered, her voice tinged with a rare sharp edge. "The Umbral Matriarch has stirred. She does not fight with claws or fire. She weaves the threads of the heart until they strangle the mind. What you see is a lie, but the death it brings is very real."
A shimmering notification flickered in the centre of Liam's vision, pulsing with a deep, bruised purple light.
[EVENT: The Nine-Tailed Mirage]
[BOSS: Kitsune Matriarch – Level 30 (Rare Spawn)]
[Condition: The Mist of Thousand Yearning has been inhaled.]
"Rogue, Mirra, defensive circle!" Liam roared, but as he turned, the forest was gone.
Liam blinked.
He wasn't in the gnarled, dangerous woods of a death game. He was standing in a brightly lit, modern kitchen. The smell of scorched monster flesh was gone, replaced by the scent of fresh laundry and baking bread.
"Liam, honey? You're staring again."
He turned. His mother was there—the woman who, in reality, had spent his childhood critiquing his every failure, standing by a kitchen island, smiling with a warmth he'd never seen. His father was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper, looking up with genuine pride.
"You've worked so hard, son," his father said, his voice deep and steady. "We're so proud of the man you've become. Why don't you sit down? You don't need to fight anymore. Just stay here. We love you."
For a split second, the iron-clad walls around Liam's heart cracked. The "God of the Kitchen" felt like a tired kid who just wanted a hug. He stepped toward them, his hand reaching out—
"Liam! The hearth is cold!" Hestia's voice screamed in his mind.
Liam froze. He looked at his hands. They were soft. No callouses from the sword, no burns from the forge.
"My parents don't say 'I love you,'" Liam growled, his voice returning to its deep, basalt rumble. "And they definitely don't smile like that."
He didn't draw a sword. He simply summoned the [Hearth] fire within his chest. A pillar of white-hot, purifying flame erupted from him, shattering the suburban kitchen like glass.
[Tool Tip: Weightless Forge]
Type: Passive Skill / Armour Modifier
Effect: Reduces 'Effective Weight' of all equipped metal armour by 90% for the user.
The Result: The user retains the massive Defence and Physical Momentum of heavy plate but possesses the speed of an Assassin.
Note:To everyone else, you're a 500lb tank moving like a ninja. To anyone you step on, you still weigh 500lbs.