We moved a short distance from the battlefield, after I collected my weapons, finding a patch of dry ground under the twisted canopy of swamp trees. The air hung thick with the scent of damp earth and blood, but here, away from the carnage, it felt quieter. Safer.

  I slumped against a tree, letting the bark press into my back while my body worked through the lingering ache. The mother sat nearby, arms protectively wrapped around her daughter, while the father kept glancing toward the shadows, like he couldn’t quite believe the danger had passed.

  Chloe—the young girl—hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, eyes flicking to my pack. “Do you… have more food?” Her voice was soft, almost shy.

  I blinked, then chuckled. “Yeah, kid. I’ve got you.” Reaching into my inventory, I pulled out a bundle of dried meat and some fruit. The supply never ran out, but she didn’t need to know that. She accepted it with both hands, eyes lighting up like I’d handed her treasure.

  As she sat cross-legged beside me, munching happily, I caught the faintest smile from her mother. Trust didn’t come easy, but maybe I was earning it. One small step at a time.

  We rested there for a while longer, the tension easing but never truly vanishing. My mana trickled back slowly, not enough to fuel another domain, but enough to stand without swaying. Enough to fight if I had to.

  Finally, I pushed myself upright, brushing dirt from my pants. “Alright,” I said, voice firm but not unkind. “It’s time to go.”

  I started walking east, following the soft flicker of my pendant’s compass. We hadn’t gone far when the mother—Lauren—spoke up, her voice hesitant.

  “Where are you going?”

  I glanced back, confused. “East. Toward the village I was heading for. Yours, right?”

  Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “We live that way.” She gestured—not east, but southwest, the same direction the surviving vampires and werewolves had fled.

  I paused, scratching my head. “Wait… you live outside the swamp, though? In a village?”

  Lauren nodded. “Yes, but not East. Our home’s deeper into the lowlands, closer to the river.”

  I frowned, glancing down at the pendant still pointing east. The system had been clear: travel east, find the village, save them. But I’d already stepped off that path once. I wasn’t about to leave them now.

  “Ah. My fault, then.” I offered a lopsided smile. “Lead the way. I’ll stop you if anything dangerous shows up.”

  Lauren hesitated a moment longer, then nodded and took point, guiding us along a narrow trail worn into the mud. I stayed a step behind, eyes sharp for movement, senses stretched thin.

  The tension eased as we walked, and the quiet stretch of trail invited conversation. Before long, Chloe tugged at my sleeve, wide-eyed and curious.

  “Where did you live before the swamp?”

  I chuckled. “A place without the system. No levels. No monsters. Just… people. A world called Earth.”

  Lauren glanced back, surprise flickering across her face. “Earth? Never heard of it.”

  I blinked. “What? How could you not?” I gestured vaguely at the sky. “It’s got to be one of the big ones, right? Part of… whatever this is. The system. The worlds.”

  Lauren shook her head slowly. “Kareth’s the only world I’ve ever known. But the elders speak of other realms, scattered across the void like leaves on the wind. Countless worlds, all connected but separate. If your Earth exists, it’s one of many.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. Countless worlds? That wasn’t just another planet, another galaxy. It was something bigger—something I hadn’t even considered.

  “The multiverse…” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

  Lauren glanced back, concern flickering across her face. “You really didn’t know?”

  I swallowed hard and shook my head. “No. Where I’m from, I didn’t even know other habitable worlds existed until… well, until I woke up in the Colosseum.”

  That earned a wary look from her husband, but Chloe just tilted her head. “What was it like? No levels? No skills?”

  “Simple,” I said with a faint smile. “No magic. No monsters. Just hard work and slow progress. I was a soldier—trained to protect others. Special training, actually.” I skipped over the part about my injury. No need to weigh them down with old baggage. “Then one day… I woke up here. No warning. Just me, the Colosseum, and the system waiting for me to fail.”

  Lauren’s steps slowed. “And you survived.”

  “Barely,” I admitted. “Thanks to someone who knew what they were doing.” My smile turned genuine. “Alyssa. She saved my butt more times than I can count. Taught me how to fight smart. How to live long enough to choose my own path.”

  Chloe’s eyes lit up. “Is she your girlfriend?”

  I almost tripped over a root. “What? No! She’d laugh herself sick if she heard that.”

  Lauren actually smiled for the first time since I’d met her. “Sounds like someone worth finding again.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured, gripping the pendant around my neck. “I plan to.”

  The trail wound deeper into the swamp, sunlight filtering through the canopy in golden shafts. The damp earth softened underfoot, and the air grew less oppressive. Conversation flowed easier with each step.

  Lauren glanced over her shoulder. “So, Earth. No system. What did people do all day if they weren’t trying to get stronger?”

  “Worked. Slept. Complained about both,” I said, grinning. “We had jobs—some easy, some not. I was military, so my job was basically ‘keep idiots from getting themselves killed.’”

  Chloe giggled. “Sounds like what you’re doing now.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, well, some things don’t change.”

  Lauren smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But no levels? No way to… I don’t know, get better?”

  “Oh, we got better. Just slower. Study harder, train longer, push yourself further. No shortcuts. Break a bone? Weeks to heal. Fail a test? Try again next year. Nothing reset at midnight.”

  Her husband finally spoke up, voice quiet but curious. “And you preferred that?”

  I considered the question. “I preferred knowing success was mine—not because a system handed me points, but because I earned it. Here? It’s… different. Useful, sure. But it feels like the system’s always watching. Always judging.”

  Lauren nodded slowly, expression thoughtful. “Freedom without power. Or power without freedom.”

  “Pretty much.”

  We traveled for hours, skirting muddy trails and shallow streams. Once, I caught sight of movement in the trees—a Briarcap Howler, its thorny fur blending with the foliage. It eyed us but didn’t approach. Smart. I let it go, not eager to waste energy.

  The second encounter wasn’t as patient. A lone Howler burst from the brush, snarling and brandishing a jagged stick like a makeshift club. Before I could react, Lauren yanked Chloe behind her while her husband raised his arms protectively.

  “Stay back!” I snapped, stepping between them and the beast.

  Painbound Dominion flared to life without conscious thought. Shadows rippled outward, drawing the Howler’s attention straight to me. It hesitated, caught between instinct and compulsion.

  “Hit me,” I growled.

  It obliged. The stick cracked against my shoulder, pain blossoming sharp and fast.

  Pain Counter: 8.

  The Howler froze mid-swing, eyes glazing over as the threads of my will tightened around its mind.

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  “Leave,” I commanded, voice cold and certain.

  The creature blinked, then whirled and bolted into the underbrush, crashing through branches in its haste to escape.

  Lauren exhaled shakily. “That’s… unsettling.”

  “Effective,” I countered, rubbing my shoulder. “It’s not pretty, but it works.”

  Chloe peeked out from behind her mother, wide-eyed. “You made it run away! Like a hero!”

  I smiled despite myself. “Something like that.”

  The rest of the day passed without incident, the swamp gradually thinning into open forest. The trees stood taller here, straighter, less twisted by the damp. The ground firmed beneath our feet, and the air carried a faint, sweet scent—wildflowers, maybe, or something like them.

  As the sun dipped low, painting the sky in streaks of gold and crimson, Lauren pointed ahead. “Welcome to Raventree,” she said quietly, nodding toward a break in the hills. “Our village is just beyond that ridge.”

  It wasn’t East. It wasn’t the system’s test.

  But it was the right path. My path.

  As we crested the final ridge, the faint hum of raised voices reached us, sharp and urgent. The elven family exchanged wary glances, picking up their pace. Something was happening.

  We reached the outskirts of the village—if it could even be called that. Wooden palisades, barely ten feet tall and weathered by time, encircled a collection of thatched-roof homes and market stalls. The gates stood wide open, unattended. No guards, no watchers. Just noise—raw, frustrated, and afraid.

  Pushing forward, we found the source.

  The entire village seemed crammed into the central square, backs turned toward us, all facing a raised platform where a man stood, arms outstretched, trying to calm the crowd.

  “Look, I hear you!” he barked, voice hoarse with strain. “But we can’t go after them! We don’t have the manpower, especially after that last raid. We’ve got a handful of real fighters and a few hunters. If we march on those damn werewolves now, we’re signing our own death warrants.”

  The crowd rumbled in protest. Angry murmurs rose like a tide, faces flushed with desperation. Mothers clutched children tighter. Older men leaned on walking sticks, jaws clenched with impotent fury. It wasn’t just fear driving them. It was guilt.

  They thought Lauren’s family was already dead.

  Before I could speak, Lauren stepped past me, voice cutting cleanly through the noise. “There’s no need to come looking for us!”

  The words landed like a thunderclap. The entire crowd froze, heads snapping toward us in unison. Gasps rippled outward, disbelief etched across every face. Someone dropped a basket, apples spilling across the dirt without notice.

  But the moment their eyes found me, the shock curdled into something colder.

  A demon. Walking into their village, hands empty but presence undeniable. No visible weapons, no threat—but the tail, the horns, the eyes? That was enough.

  The whispers started immediately.

  “Demon.”

  “What’s it doing here?”

  “Did it… trade them for something?”

  “No. Look at the girl. She’s unharmed.”

  “For now.”

  The man on the platform—clearly some sort of leader—staggered back a step, mouth opening and closing wordlessly before he found his voice. “Lauren? Varen? Chloe?” His gaze flickered to me, narrowing with suspicion. “How… how the hell did you get back?”

  Lauren didn’t answer immediately. She hugged Chloe tighter, tears finally breaking through her calm facade. Varen, her husband, just stood there, head bowed, like the weight of the last few days had finally crashed down.

  I stepped forward, tail flicking behind me as the crowd parted around us like water. Not out of respect. Out of fear.

  “I got them back,” I said plainly. “And the werewolves that took them? They’re dead.”

  The silence that followed was deafening. Dozens of eyes flickered between me and the family I’d returned, disbelief battling hope.

  The leader’s gaze lingered on the pendant at my neck—the one Alyssa had given me. His lips pressed into a thin line.

  “Well,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we owe you one, stranger.”

  But his words didn’t spark relief. The crowd didn’t surge forward in joy. Instead, they held their ground, faces tight with mistrust.

  Lauren glanced at me, smiling faintly. “No. I think we owe him more than that.”

  The leader ignored her, eyes pinned on me like I was a bomb set to detonate. “You expect us to believe you just… helped? Out of the goodness of your heart?”

  My grip tightened, though my hands remained empty. Of course. It didn’t matter how many lives I saved. The tail, the horns, the red eyes—they spoke louder than any good deed.

  “I didn’t save them for you,” I said coldly. “I did it because it was the right thing to do. Believe that or don’t. It doesn’t change what happened.”

  The man’s jaw clenched, but Lauren stepped between us, arms spread protectively. “He’s telling the truth. If not for him, we’d be dead.”

  The crowd wavered, uncertainty writ large across every face. Gratitude warred with fear, and fear was winning.

  I sighed, stepping back. “Forget it. You don’t have to trust me. Just keep them safe.”

  Turning on my heel, I headed for the village gates, the pendant around my neck pulsing softly with each step. Behind me, the murmurs rose again—not in thanks, but in suspicion.

  And that was fine. Heroes didn’t need applause.

  Then a small hand caught mine—small, delicate, trembling slightly. Chloe.

  “Please don’t go, Sylas.” Her voice was soft, but the weight behind it hit harder than any blow I’d taken in the swamp. She looked up at me with eyes too big for her face, wide and earnest, brimming with trust.

  I froze. For all my strength, for all the power the system had crammed into my veins, I couldn’t resist that look. With a sigh that turned into a chuckle, I bent down and scooped her up, holding her easily against my side. She giggled, arms wrapping around my neck like we’d known each other forever.

  A grin spread across my face, unbidden and unguarded. Heroes didn’t need applause. But damn, a little gratitude? That hit different.

  The crowd, so thick with suspicion moments ago, stood frozen, watching the scene in silence. Doubt flickered. Hesitation cracked. And in its place… understanding.

  The village leader—stern, tired, and still visibly wary—finally stepped forward, clearing his throat. His gaze flickered from Chloe to me, to the pendant still glowing faintly against my chest.

  “Sylas, was it?” he said, voice quieter now, less guarded. “Please… accept my sincerest apology. You’ve saved our own, and we met it with fear instead of thanks. That was… wrong.”

  He hesitated, jaw tightening like the words tasted bitter. “You’ve earned our trust. Or at least—you’ve earned mine.”

  I glanced around the crowd, reading the faces more carefully now. Not everyone had shed their suspicion. Old prejudices died hard. But Chloe’s smile and the leader’s reluctant respect had cracked the wall. The fear had softened, if only a little.

  I nodded, lowering Chloe gently to the ground. “Apology accepted. Just… take care of them. They’ve been through enough.”

  The leader nodded back, sharp and decisive. “That, I can promise.” He turned to the crowd, voice rising. “This man didn’t ask for anything. Didn’t demand payment, didn’t trade lives for skill points. He acted when we wouldn’t. When we couldn’t. Remember that.”

  Murmurs swept through the villagers—some doubtful, some grudgingly impressed. It wasn’t a parade. It wasn’t a hero’s welcome. But it was enough.

  I ruffled Chloe’s hair, straightened up, and rolled my shoulders. “Now,” I said, smirking despite myself. “Which way to the nearest bath? Because Freshen’s good, but I’ve still got werewolf stink on me.”

  Laughter rippled through the crowd—uncertain at first, but real.

  Maybe trust wasn’t instant. But it had taken root. And roots? They grew.

  It wasn’t long before I found myself in the community bath—which, in this case, meant the river. Surprisingly warm, with sunlight filtering through the leaves and dappling the water in gold and green. Someone had handed me a rough bar of soap, and my clothes had been whisked away by eager hands, promising repairs and a proper wash.

  I’d just started to relax when company arrived.

  Lauren waded in first, Varen close behind, along with the village leader and a handful of others. They chatted easily, splashing through the shallows like this was the most natural gathering in the world. And maybe, for them, it was.

  Still, when Lauren stripped down without a second thought, I immediately jerked my gaze away, cheeks burning. The sound of laughter bubbled up like the river itself—warm, teasing, and thoroughly amused.

  "Look at him!" someone called. "Blushing like a first-year apprentice!"

  "He's a demon," another added, grinning. "A creature of darkness—undone by bare skin!"

  The teasing spread like wildfire. It seemed half the women in the village suddenly found pressing reasons to join the bath, shedding tunics and skirts with theatrical flair, all while sneaking glances at me to see how red my face could get. Spoiler alert: very.

  I held out for a while. Really, I did. Eyes fixed on the sky, the trees, the damn soap in my hand like it held the secrets of the universe. But eventually, I sighed, letting my gaze drop as I raised both hands in surrender.

  “Alright, alright. You win. I get it—bathing’s communal. No big deal.”

  That earned an approving cheer and, somehow, more splashing. Mistrust didn’t stand a chance against shared laughter and mild humiliation.

  The leader, a broad-shouldered man with short-cropped hair and crow’s feet around his eyes, swam over and stretched out a hand. “Name’s Arin.”

  I took his hand, grip firm despite the water. A small smile tugged at my lips. “Sylas. Glad I could help.”

  Arin nodded, his expression shifting from relief to something heavier. “Well, Sylas, I want to extend our hospitality. Stay with us for a while. We’ll provide food, shelter—whatever you need.” He hesitated before adding, voice low, edged with something close to desperation, “And… we could really use another fighter. The raids have been getting worse.”

  I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I reached into my inventory and pulled out my pendant. The soft pulse of light still pointed east—faint, almost reluctant. The system’s test was waiting. A village in the distance, one I had yet to see, yet to save.

  But here, now, was a village that was already drowning. They didn’t just need a hero; they needed protection. Real, immediate, and tangible. These people were walking targets—tasty prey, valuable enough to kill for. I knew I couldn’t shield them forever. Knew that, sooner or later, something bigger, stronger, and crueler would come to turn them into a feast.

  But damn it, I could try.

  My grip tightened around the pendant. The light flickered, dimming, as if the system had offered me one final chance to turn away—one last opportunity to walk the path it had chosen for me.

  And I let it fade.

  I still had a little over two weeks—two weeks to earn my specialization, gain six levels, and make it back to the Colosseum. But in that time, I could do more than chase a test. I could make a difference here.

  My grip hardened around the pendant before I tucked it away, the light fully extinguished. Then I met Arin’s gaze, steady and unwavering.

  “Tell me what you need.”