A few minutes ago.

  Ladrel carried Ivy deeper into the catacombs of the cave, where stone swallowed every sound. He laid her gently on the bed, then sat beside her without a word.

  "You're always a worrywart," she murmured with a faint grin. "I wasn't even hurt."

  "I'm always worried," Ladrel said, eyes downcast. "Because I'm the one holding you back."

  "Nah," Ivy said softly, placing a hand on his head. "You've been with me longer than anyone else. I don't mind."

  He reached up, took her hand gently from his head, and pressed a kiss to her palm before moving it to rest around his neck. He said nothing.

  Ivy smiled. She sat up, wrapping her arms around him from behind as he sat between her legs on the floor. Her embrace was quiet and warm.

  Ladrel exhaled, a breath that sounded like peace-for just a moment.

  "I hate the fact that you're kind," he whispered, slowly slipping from her hold.

  "What?" Ivy asked, not quite catching his words.

  He offered her a small smile as he stood. She reached out and embraced him again, this time around his waist, still seated on the bed.

  Then, without warning, he squatted down, easing her gently back onto the bed. With one hand and knee on each side of her, he hovered over her, eyes full of something unsaid.

  Ladrel sighed, lowering his head as if confessing to the dark. "I hate myself... for falling in love with you."

  He stood and walked to the other side of the room. "You've come a long way, huh.

  Ivy rose from the bed, quiet.

  "Hey, I wasn't the only one," she said.

  He turned, smiling faintly. "Kieran really was a huge help, but I think it's time to let go off the binding... so you can protect the people you chose to shelter."

  Ivy’s eyes widened. Her hands trembled at her sides, lips parting slightly—as if the weight of his words cracked something open inside her.

  "Wha—."

  His voice lowered.

  "Kieran's strong. But he won't last long."

  . . . . . . . .

  With a final swing—

  Zephyr’s blade cut clean through his neck.

  Kieran’s head dropped from his shoulders, eyes wide in the final instant.

  “I let my guard down, huh…”

  A faint smile curled on his lips as the light began to fade.

  “So… you chose now to show yourself, old friend, thought I'll never see you again.

  You chose to protect me even after death.

  And yet you decided to go out like this, If this, truly is your way of settling things, after all the lives we’ve taken—

  then I don’t mind going along with it… not one bit.”

  Kieran’s head hit the ground softly— as it drifted off into a faint memory.

  . . . . . . . .

  I wasn't born like most people.

  I was carved from stone-shaped by hands that weren't mine. Ancient runes pressed into my skin. They didn't give me life... just purpose. I wasn't made to feel. I was made to obey. To defend. To destroy.

  I did as I was told, never treated like the others. Never seen. Never cared for.

  I heard people speak of mothers, of warmth and comfort. I never had one. Never knew what it felt like to be held. To be chosen. To be loved.

  I didn't understand what I was feeling back then-maybe grief, maybe emptiness-but I know one thing: I didn't want it to be real. Because I never felt real.

  I wasn't even given a name, I was only known as a weapon, a construct, a tool. Nothing more.

  But Everything changed too fast, or maybe not fast enough. All I know is that one day, I met a minotaur who was as stupid as he was big.

  He was a runaway. Said his hometown had burned down-he watched his entire family die, one by one, as they paved the way for him to escape. He was the only survivor.

  But you'd never know it by looking at him-he always wore that dumb crooked grin like he'd just won the whole damn world. I hated it. Hated him.

  He had it worse than I did, and yet he smiled all the time like life was some kind of joke.

  But at the end of the day... I wanted him around for that exact same reason.

  He never once called me a weapon. Or a tool. Just followed me like we'd always known each other. The villagers didn't care. As long as I did what they told me to, no one questioned why he stayed.

  And one day, out of nowhere, we were sitting on the edge of a collapsed pillar in a ruin, he looked at me like I was something worth speaking to.

  He turned to me and said, "I'm Tharn, by the way. Kinda funny how we've been traveling this long and never bothered to learn each other's names, I guess that's what brotherly bond is." His grin grew even wider.

  He looked at me, expectant. "What's yours?"

  "I... I don't have one," I muttered.

  "Why's that?" he asked, still smiling.

  I clenched my jaw, as realization dawned on me, he never actually called me a weapon or a tool because he never knew how I was brought to this world.

  I tried to speak but his words cut through leaving me speechless.

  He didn't wait. "Well, then. I'll just call you Kieran."

  "Kieran?" I repeated, frowning. I could feel heat rising in my face, never felt this emotion, I never understood it.

  "I don't know what it means," he shrugged. "But it sounds right. From this day on-it's Kieran and Tharn. Best friends forever!" he roared.

  From that day forward, he kept showing up even more. Every morning. Talking. Training. Telling me about how the sky in his home town was a weird color other than blue, he'll tell me about the sea, the girls he'd never impress. He fought beside me, always having my back.

  When I didn't move, he sat with me in silence like the world wasn't crumbling outside.

  Tharn never asked for anything... except my company.

  And I-made of stone and silence-gave it.

  He gave me something I didn't think I could have.

  A friend.

  Not a master. Not a commander. A friend.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  It changed me.

  I started choosing. Not because of commands written in my core, but because he asked me to. I learned to nod. I learned to decide for myself.

  Even when there was no war to fight, I learned... stillness could feel warm when he was nearby.

  Then came the day everything ended.

  The sky turned black. The ground trembled. And my village was under attack.

  It was wiped from the map. I fought until my arms fractured and my core dimmed. But it wasn’t enough.

  Tharn fought beside me. It wasn’t even his village, yet he fought like it belonged to his own brother.

  And then—out of nowhere—I was targeted. He threw himself in front of the blow, shielding me from the strike.

  I didn’t understand why. Yes, we were friends... but I never thought he’d go that far.

  I couldn’t fathom it.

  Why shield a golem?

  Why shield a weapon?

  Why shield a shield?

  Why protect something like me?

  He died with that same crooked smile still etched on his bloody face.

  The raiders left, apparently satisfied with their destruction, leaving everyone for dead—everyone except me. I didn’t care about the villagers. I never cared to know who they were or what they meant.

  I found myself kneeling in the ruin for days. Weeks. The wind passed through the hole where my chest had once burned bright.

  I felt nothing. Not heat. Not pain.

  Only absence. The absence of the one person who had ever given my life any meaning.

  I tried everything I could to bring him back, but death doesn't bargain.

  OR SO DOES IT.

  I happened to stumble upon a ritual.

  It was etched beneath the shrine. Buried deep, forbidden even by the creators who had made me. It spoke of the Binding. Of calling a soul back from the stream of death. Of defying the silence.

  It demanded a price.

  A piece of my core. The very thing that let me walk.

  I gave it willingly.

  I spoke his name for the first time, and for the first time the world listened to me.

  I WOULD say that, but no, the world listened to his name not my voice.

  The wind roared. The ground cracked. And he rose.

  Not whole. Not free. But there.

  His eyes glowed softly, dimmer than before. He did not laugh the same. He did not breathe the same. He was bound-to me. To the ritual. His soul tethered to keep mine from breaking.

  And I felt it then.

  A weight around my power. A lock forged by my choice. As long as Tharn remained, I could never be complete. A part of me was always holding him there... and holding me back.

  But still-

  If I had to choose between power and the only friend who ever saw me?

  I would choose Tharn again and again and again...

  Even if it meant being broken forever.

  .......

  Kieran’s head hit the ground.

  Tears fell silently from the corners of his fading eyes.

  “I guess I’ll leave the rest… to Master Ivy,” he whispered with a soft grin. “She never really liked being called that.”

  Zephyr’s wind blade dissolved into the air. A hush followed, as if the world itself was pausing to listen—to honor the story being laid to rest.

  “Hey… where’s the big guy?” Gwen asked, glancing toward the edge of the battlefield, where Tharn layed almost lifeless.

  “He couldn't have been swept up in the fighting and he couldn’t have just escaped either, we would see blood trails at least...”

  Kieran’s crumbling stone body began to collapse fully—but just before it did, Damon felt it: the gentle warmth of Kieran and Tharn’s presence, like an echo smiling his way.

  Damon's mind immediately flashed back to when Kieran said, I'm sorry as a tear dropped down his cheek, before transforming.

  Damon smiled back, turning to Gwen.

  “Yeah, the big guy’s no problem. Zephyr took care of him.”

  Gwen tilted her head, puzzled.

  “…Come to think of it—where are all the hundreds of goons?”

  “Oh, right. That.” Damon lifted a hand.

  A shimmering cube flickered into view and vanished, dropping hundreds of unconscious bodies to the ground in a heap.

  “I didn’t want them getting even more hurt.”

  "Hurt?” Gwen blinked, face turning to the side.

  She had definitely shattered at least three bones

  per opponent.

  A sudden chill filled the air.

  “You really did well, Kieran.”

  The voice cut through the silence—calm, cold, and close.

  The trio turned.

  Ivy stood behind them.

  She looked different. Her hair now flowed behind her, pushed completely back. Her eyes shimmered with red spirals. The massive crossbow she once wielded was nowhere in sight.

  She stepped forward, crouching beside what was left of Kieran’s crumbling body. Without a word, she picked up a glowing rune from the rubble.

  The trio instinctively leapt back.

  “I didn’t even sense her until she spoke,” Damon muttered under his breath.

  Gwen’s eyes darted around the room.

  “Your boyfriend’s not with you,” she said sharply.

  Silence.

  Gwen raised an eyebrow, "The heck, she's always so chipper."

  Damon's eyes widened—saying nothing at all.

  Without a word, Ivy raised her hand. A wrist-mounted crossbow emerged—sleek and menacing. She fired a single arrow. It moved slowly, deliberately, like a predator stalking its prey.

  The trio didn’t dare touch it. They stepped aside, letting it pass.

  “The heck is that?” Gwen asked, raising a brow.

  Whoosh.

  A void tore open behind them, sucking in air—and them. The vortex yanked them backward, but Damon reacted fast, manifesting a wall-like construct from his mind just in time to catch them.

  Gwen sprang back to her feet, and Zephyr boosted her forward with a blast of wind. Propelled like a cannonball, Gwen flew at Ivy with a furious punch.

  Ivy sidestepped with ease, using Gwen’s momentum against her. Gwen’s fist slammed into the floor, cracking stone. She didn’t hesitate—spinning and swinging again.

  Damon and Zephyr had flanked Ivy on either side. The trio launching a synchronized punch.

  Ivy’s eyes flashed, analyzing everything. She tilted her head, dodging Gwen’s strike, immediately seizing her wrist, she leapt above her, and pressed Gwen’s head down mid-air. Then, in a fluid motion, she split her legs into a mid-air split kick, striking Damon and Zephyr on either side.

  She leaped back, but before her feet could even touch the ground, Gwen was already in front of her. Gwen feinted high with a punch, but Ivy vanished—reappearing in the air above. She fired an arrow mid-fall that stretched mid-flight and pierced clean through Gwen’s back, pinning her to the ground.

  Damon and Zephyr attacked immediately from both sides, Zephyr’s wind-forged dual blades flashed in the light. Damon slid in low as Ivy spun over him, releasing another arrow at Zephyr. He dodged, then teleported behind her, blades ready.

  He slashed from the side. Ivy blocked just in time, his wind blade grinding against, her wrist crossbow, the impact sent her sliding backward.

  She quickly fired a wind ball arrow downward with both hands, blasting herself into the air.

  Mid-air, she unleashed a barrage of arrows at Zephyr, who sliced through them with precision. But from the side—unexpectedly—another arrow tore through the air aimed at Ivy.

  "I think this is yours." Gwen smiled.

  Ivy’s eyes flicked left, too late.

  The impact sent her crashing into the ground.

  Gwen stepped forward, blood running down her back. The wound rapidly sealed shut.

  “Round two,” she growled.

  The trio charged. Gwen blitzed ahead, attacking first, she spun into a kick that connected with Ivy’s head, dropping it low, immediately rolling over Ivy’s back, she landed behind her, and struck again.

  Ivy parried, redirecting the blow. Gwen ducked low and aimed for Ivy’s gut, but Ivy jerked to the side and countered with a vicious uppercut, followed by a kick that launched Gwen backward.

  Damon responded immediately, slamming the ground. Twin slabs of stone clapped toward Ivy, but when the dust settled, she stood untouched.

  Wrapped around her was a massive red serpent of energy.

  “Not this again,” Damon muttered.

  The snake lunged, Ivy riding its back. Damon stomped, summoning spikes from the earth that impaled the creature. Ivy flipped off mid-motion and fired another arrow at him.

  Damon raised a forcefield—confident.

  But the arrow passed through like smoke, phasing effortlessly before embedding into his chest.

  Damon dropped to one knee, gasping.

  Zephyr appeared mid-air beside Ivy. Her eyes snapped toward him, but he pushed back mid air, his legs hitting the air, like it was a step, he immediately vanished to her side, and when eyes eyes snapped his angle.

  He was already below her and landed a clean uppercut.

  His eyes widened as she didn’t budge.

  Ivy grabbed his arm and fired three arrows into his chest before kicking him straight down. He slammed into the ground with a brutal crash.

  Suddenly, a hand appeared out of nowhere and clamped over her face.

  Gwen grinned wickedly. “Surprise.”

  She landed hard, then hurled Ivy across the battlefield, smashing into a wall with crushing force.

  Gwen's eyes flicked to her wrist—three arrows had pierced through it.

  “Tch.” She ripped them out, tossing them aside. But they ignited mid-air.

  “Good thing I was quick,” she muttered—just before the arrows exploded.

  The blast slammed her into the opposite wall. She groaned, smoke rising from her form.

  “Yeah… that one’s on me.”

  The rubble shifted—then Ivy emerged, unfazed. Damon and Zephyr were already on the move, charging at her from both sides.

  Ivy raised both hands and fired—though no arrows came out.

  Zephyr suddenly froze mid-stride.

  His limbs wouldn’t respond.

  But Damon kept advancing without slowing.

  “Sorry,” he said with a smirk, “mind binding at that level doesn’t work on me.”

  He threw a heavy punch at Ivy.

  But just before it landed, she raised her arm, shooting an arrow to the side.

  Damon’s eyes narrowed in confusion—but his fist still connected.

  Except Ivy wasn’t there anymore.

  She had teleported to where the arrow she shot had landed. Mid-air, she spun and shot an arrow that multiplied into a barrage of arrows at Damon. He dodged each one, weaving through them effortlessly.

  Suddenly—she was right in front of him, throwing a punch from the side.

  Damon caught her fist.

  A stone fist erupted from the ground below Ivy, uppercutting her into the sky.

  “You little copycat,” Gwen smirked, charging in from the flank.

  Damon leapt into the air and smashed a punch straight into Ivy’s face, knocking her back down—right toward Gwen.

  Gwen spun and delivered a brutal roundhouse kick that connected cleanly, sending Ivy hurtling into a nearby wall.

  The impact shattered the structure, and the wall crumbled, burying Ivy beneath a pile of rubble.

  The binding on Zephyr faded and then he teleported to Damon and Gwen’s side, his eyes scanning the area.

  Tears began to fall from Ivy’s eyes as she slowly pushed herself up from the debris, her voice trembling. “You made me do this…”

  Her words cracked as if they weighed a ton, her anguish bleeding through.

  “Ladrel’s gone because of you,” Ivy continued, stepping forward slowly, her gaze fixed on the trio. “We all suffered... but why do we need to suffer again?”

  A sudden surge of energy flared from within her. Her cloak ripped apart at the seams, revealing a sleek, obsidian bodysuit that shimmered with an ominous glow.

  Her wrist crossbows flared with raw power, crackling with energy.