The cave’s warmth pressed against Zamian’s skin, a stark contrast to the cold, endless desert outside. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, dust, and the faint aroma of whatever stew Kurt had been stirring. Smoke curled lazily toward a small hole near the wall.

  The moment he stepped inside, Bohlo was already moving.

  “Z!”

  The younger man barreled toward him, nearly knocking Zamian off balance as he threw his arms around him, clutching him tight.

  “You’re alive,” Bohlo muttered, his voice thick with relief. “You’re alive.”

  Zamian felt the grip tighten. He could feel the trembling in Bohlo’s muscles, the way his breathing hitched slightly as if he couldn’t believe it.

  Letting out a slow breath, he pat Bohlo’s back. “My best friend said he would wait for me, and I couldn’t disappoint him, right?”

  Bohlo scoffed, finally pulling back enough to look at Zamian. He had the same innocent look in his eyes, but there was a hint of relief and worry.

  Zamian smiled. “You broke through.”

  Bohlo grinned despite himself. “Yeah.” Then, his smile faded, and he ran a hand through his short hair, exhaling heavily. “Marlos helped, along with the acting as a Farm thing you taught us. Feels like my head is twice as heavy, though, like there’s too much to think about all the time.”

  Zamian hummed, patting his friend’s shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.”

  ‘The big guy seems different. His words are more fluid. Weird seeing him like that.’

  Bohlo snorted. “That’s the worst part, Z. I don’t know if I want to get used to this.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I liked it more when these instincts were harder to understand.”

  Zamian huffed a quiet laugh.

  Bohlo shook his head, still gripping Zamian’s shoulders. But then, his gaze flickered past him, back to the old man lying still against the cave wall. The worry returned instantly, sinking into his face like a shadow.

  “Dad hasn’t woken up,” Bohlo muttered. “I keep checking, but… he just sleeps. He breathes, and I could force him to drink water, but—”

  Zamian rested a hand on Bohlo’s shoulder. “He’s alive. That’s enough for now. We will find a way.”

  Bohlo clenched his jaw, nodding slowly.

  Before the silence could linger, Kurt finally spoke. “Great Sir, you’ve returned.”

  Zamian turned, meeting the bearded outsider’s gaze.

  Kurt, ever cautious, remained by the fire. His grip on the wooden spoon in his hand was a little too tight, and his posture was just stiff enough to betray his wariness.

  Zamian stepped toward him.

  Before Kurt could react, Zamian wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulder, pulling him into a firm half-embrace.

  “You kept your promise.”

  Kurt tensed. “I… did what I could.”

  Zamian stepped back, nodding. “That’s all I needed.”

  Kurt studied him, then exhaled, rubbing his neck. “It wasn’t just me. Meeting the Warrior Chosen when escaping the collapsing camp was… a ridiculous stroke of luck.” His lips twitched. “If I were a fanatic, I would be thanking your Verdant God even now.”

  Zamian smirked. “Not my god.”

  Kurt let out a dry chuckle, then quickly composed himself, his wariness creeping back. “Still, good to see you arrived here mostly safe, Great Sir.”

  Zamian’s smirk faded.

  “I almost didn’t.”

  Bohlo, Kurt, and even the sleeping Soho remained still as the words settled.

  Then, Zamian inhaled sharply. He had held back enough.

  His gaze drifted.

  Toward her.

  Tulip hadn’t moved.

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  Her arms were wrapped around her knees, her body curled inward, as if she was trying to make herself disappear.

  Her blonde hair, tangled and messy, fell over her face, but even through the strands, Zamian could see her unfocused dark blue eyes.

  She looked hollow.

  Zamian’s chest tightened.

  He took a slow step toward her.

  Then another.

  Then, without hesitation, he lowered himself to his knees.

  And kowtowed in front of her.

  His forehead pressed against the rough cave floor, his hands planted before him.

  “I was wrong.”

  Tulip’s fingers twitched against the fabric of her sleeves, but she didn’t lift her head.

  “I thought I was doing what was best,” Zamian continued. “I thought I was protecting you. But I was a fool. I hurt you, more than I ever wanted to.”

  Each word felt heavier than the last.

  “I fought against Chosen stronger than I ever imagined. I was locked in a prison, vines digging into my flesh. I spent days alone, in the dark, searching for a way out of that blighted place.” He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. “And through it all, one of the thoughts that wouldn’t leave me—one of the regrets that weighed on me the most—was about you. About what I never told you.”

  His fists clenched against the dirt.

  “I love you, Tulip.”

  Silence.

  Then, Tulip moved.

  Her hand came up.

  And she slapped him.

  Zamian had seen it coming, but he didn't move.

  It was too slow for him; he could have dodged, but instead, he let it happen.

  More than that, he softened his cheek, ensuring she wouldn’t hurt her hand.

  The sting didn’t register in his body.

  But in his heart, it left a mark.

  Then, Tulip lunged forward, throwing her arms around his neck, gripping tightly and pulling him close to her, putting his head on her shoulder.

  “You idiot,” she choked out, her body trembling against him. “You absolute idiot.”

  Zamian’s arms hovered in hesitation before slowly settling around her.

  “I thought you were dead,” she sobbed. “You… you shouldn’t have said those things. You should have told me how you felt. You could have explained! Do you have any idea what you did to me? How much that hurt?”

  Zamian didn’t answer.

  She whispered in his ear. “I hate you.”

  “I know.”

  She sobbed harder, clutching his shirt. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

  Zamian stiffened.

  “I have no family,” she muttered, voice breaking. “No one who cares. You were the first person who was kind to me. And you left me like that.”

  The guilt he thought couldn’t grow anymore pressured against his chest, harder.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding her tighter.

  She didn’t respond, just buried her face against him, crying and shaking.

  And for the first time, Zamian let himself hold her without hesitation.

  Then, everything shattered.

  A surge of essence erupted outside.

  A spike so massive it sent a shiver down Zamian’s spine, his eyes widened, his instincts blaring loud enough that made essence inside him.

  His head snapped toward the entrance just as Marlos stormed in.

  “Trouble’s coming,” the Warrior Chosen said, frowning. “We need to leave.”

  Zamian tensed while Tulip’s arms tightened around him.

  Before he could pull away, she lifted her head, eyes puffy, cheeks wet.

  And then, without warning, she pulled him forward, her lips crashing against his.

  He froze.

  She pulled back slightly, breathless, eyes still wet with tears but filled with happiness.

  “I spent too much time waiting for you to take the initiative,” she muttered.

  Zamian barely had time to process the words before Marlos laughed dramatically.

  “Ohohoho, well, now’s not the time for that.”

  Zamian exhaled, pressing his forehead against Tulip’s for just a second before standing.

  “We will talk more when things are settled, okay?”

  As Tulip nodded, Bohlo already had adjusted Soho onto his back, securing the old man’s weight without effort. His newfound control over his body made the task smoother, though concern lingered in his eyes.

  Kurt hurried to gather the group’s belongings, stuffing them into his worn leather satchel and leaving the cave. The four outsiders hesitated, their gazes flickering toward Kurt. A few of them seemed to recognize him, but none dared to speak.

  Meanwhile, Marlos was already moving, his halberd rested easily against his shoulder.

  Zamian followed close behind, carrying Tulip in his arms. She pressed her head against his chest, eyes shut.

  Then, her body tensed.

  Her head lifted slightly, and she pulled away just enough to meet his eyes.

  “Zamian… you’re hurt.”

  He parted his lips to respond, but before he could, a voice cut through the night air.

  “Mar—Warrior Chosen! Where the hell are you going!?”

  Kurt’s voice rang out as he sprinted after Marlos. Everyone looked at him in surprise. It was the first time that Zamian and Bohlo saw the man speak so daringly.

  Marlos didn’t break his stride. “Looking for an entrance,” he called back casually.

  Silence.

  The four outsiders, along with Kurt’s eyes, widened.

  “What entrance!?” Peter barked, his face contorted in confusion. “Why the hell would you—”

  “There are none near here!” Joshua added, his voice rising in alarm.

  Edmund groaned, still carried between Paul and Joshua, but even he looked up in concern.

  Zamian frowned, his mind catching up to the words. Tulip still clung to him, but she, too, seemed to register the shift in tension. Her head snapped toward Marlos.

  The Warrior Chosen didn’t turn back. He kept running, his long strides forcing the others to move to keep up.

  “I’m looking for one of the Oasis entrances,” he finally said. “Wanted to recover first, but looks like I don’t have the time.”

  Silence.

  The outsiders missed a step.

  The stunned silence quickly turned into overlapping shouts of disbelief.

  “What!?”

  “You’re out of your mind!”

  “There’s no way you can just—”

  “Why would you even—!?”

  Paul’s voice cut above the rest. “The Sultan will skin you alive if you step foot in the Oasis!”

  Zamian was confused.

  ‘Since when did these people find the courage to scream at the Warrior Chosen?’

  He wasn’t the only one. Bohlo, still carrying Soho, shot a glance at him.

  But as he heard the outsider's shouts, he had thoughts of his own.

  ‘If they recognized Marlos, however, others would… That could be dangerous.’

  Zamian adjusted Tulip’s weight in his arms and shouted after Marlos. “ You know that the blighting Sultan and every vermin Warlord will recognize you the moment they see your bald head. Can you tell us why we are going in there, and not hiding somewhere else?”

  For the first time since the conversation started, Marlos glanced over his shoulder. His grin widened, his single eye gleaming with amusement.

  “Ohohoho,” he laughed, voice booming. “Wouldn’t be the first time my brother tried to kill me.”