Kaiser, treacherous as he was, couldn't resist weaving a web of lies for the tales that followed. Don’t get him wrong—he wasn’t doing it out of malice or distrust. In truth, a small part of him was genuinely warmed by Hazie’s sincere effort to lend an ear, to genuinely listen and try to understand him. Her reactions to his story—the way she seemed to drink in every word like an audience marveling at a somber theatrical masterpiece—was warmly pleasing. Most people would have shrugged off his past, treating it like background noise rather than something worthy of acknowledgment. Yet here was Hazie, listening with an almost reverent silence, trying to understand him more than he himself does.

  It was… nice. Too nice.

  And that was exactly the problem. Nice things were dangerous. They had a way of making you drop your guard. Kaiser wasn’t about to let that happen. No matter how much he appreciated her interest, there were some truths better left unsaid.

  Because, really—how could he explain it all? That in truth, he had met the gods themselves, only to find their grandeur laced with agendas as flawed as any mortals? That he had been cursed with immortality and forced to serve as a guardian to one such deity, dying countless agonizing deaths only to resurrect in pain each time? Or that he had trained under the tutelage of a descendant swordmaster whose techniques were both beautiful and brutally effective?

  What would Hazie say if he admitted to participating in more than one war—wars that pitted him against bloodthirsty bandits and otherworldly horrors alike? Or confessed that he once hunted an ancient Player and paid for his arrogance by being knocked senseless in return to this damned Realm?

  Would she even believe him if he told her about crossing the terrifying Southern Boundary, a barrier shrouded in mystery and eeriness, only to plummet from a great height afterward? No, probably not. The truth, as absurd as it was, sounded far more like a made-up fantasy than the carefully fabricated lie he had prepared. Besides, what used could that information be for their future venture? If anything, it would make things more complicated.

  So, with the same ease he wielded his blade, Kaiser fed Hazie the story he had concocted back at the deserted camp, knowing this moment would come sooner or later. He kept his tone steady and casual, blending just enough truth with fiction to make it all the more convincing.

  “All of a sudden, I ended up here,” he began, his voice tinged with feigned melancholy. “Middle of nowhere, nothing but rocks and weird undersea crap as far as the eye could see. No one else around. Thought maybe I’d find someone if I wandered long enough, but yeah, that didn’t happen. Just a whole lot of sh*t instead.”

  Kaiser’s fabricated story unfolded with a practiced ease, a tale carefully woven from threads of truth and imagination. He claimed to have been transported to this desolate, undersea realm instead of Greenland, arriving alone and disoriented in a wasteland of jagged rocks and eerie silence. According to him, his early days were spent wandering in a futile search for other survivors, only to encounter nothing but looming threats at every turn.

  Eventually, he told Hazie, he accepted the grim reality of his new existence. Desperation gave way to pragmatism as he began prioritizing survival over futile hopes. For days, he scavenged for food, learning to hunt the large, barnacle-like creatures that clung to the rocky surfaces. They were a miserable source of sustenance—rubbery and foul-tasting when eaten raw—but they kept him alive.

  It wasn’t long before he noticed something strange: an odd phenomenon that seemed to defy explanation. The more he killed, the stronger he became. His strength, speed, and endurance increased at an unnatural pace, as though the act of killing itself imbued him with power. Realizing this, he began to hunt with newfound determination, eventually stumbling upon a cave teeming with the barnacles. He wasted no time slaughtering every one of them, his desperation for survival transforming into a calculated pursuit of strength.

  In his story, this was how he rose to his current level. It was luck, he claimed—pure chance that he had found an abundant source of easy prey and had no one else to share it with. Without competition, he monopolized the haul, rapidly advancing his strength. Of course, he lied about the extent of his progress, stating he had already surpassed the Slayer rank and reached the lower tiers of Centra. While in truth, he's merely a level 2, Cipher.

  To tie his story together, Kaiser included an explanation for his apparent resilience: his Player’s Gift, described it as an all-encompassing enhancement ability that allowed him to boost specific aspects of himself at will—his agility, his strength, even his ability to regenerate from injuries. Emphasizing this last point, revealing his capacity for rapid healing as a justification for why Hazie shouldn’t endanger herself on his behalf. After all, It would be troublesome if she got hurt instead of him—he could recover whenever he needed to, but she couldn’t. Losing Hazie, his only guide in this treacherous and complex environment, would pose a risk far greater than he was willing to take.

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  When all his bullsh*ts were laid bare, justifying the seemingly impossible abilities he had displayed during their earlier run, Kai felt an odd mixture of relief and amusement. A small, smug satisfaction crept into his thoughts as he considered how skillfully he had navigated the conversation. By framing his powers in a way that didn’t require divulging his deepest secrets, he had managed to steer Hazie’s understanding exactly where he wanted it to go. With this newfound clarity, she now had a better grasp of his capabilities, paving the way for smoother cooperation in their future endeavors instead of getting into each other's nerves in dire situations.

  With Hazie now fully aware of what he could do—at least, what he allowed her to know—there would be less room for misunderstanding. A mutual awareness of their strengths would foster a more effective partnership. In his mind, they complemented each other decently: Hazie was the strategist, sharp and calculating, while he was the blade—unrelenting and efficient in execution. Together, they could maximize their chances of survival.

  However, as he observed Hazie from the corner of his eye, it became apparent that she was struggling to process everything he had told her.

  'Should I also tell her I have super senses, too?'

  At the moment, Hazie seemed unaware of how much her face betrayed her thoughts. Perhaps she assumed the darkness of the cave concealed her expression, but Kai could distinguish it clearly enough. Her features were twisted into a mix of disbelief and composure, a curious blend of doubt and forced acceptance. It was as if her mind were waging a silent war, torn between what she knew about what humanity is about a week's ago back on Earth, and the increasingly monstrous displays, breaking her former comprehension of what is human, anymore... Kai may look like one, but could he still be considered human?

  'Yeah... I'll let her digest it first,' he thought, deciding against pushing her any further for the time being. After all, Hazie hasn't fully adjusted to this bizarre reality yet. Her brain might shut down if she knew Kaiser can't die, literally.

  While his fabricated tales had satisfied most of Hazie’s suspicions regarding his abilities, they also sparked new questions—ones he had not anticipated. One, in particular, revolved around his weapon, Windslayer. Hazie had initially assumed the glass-like blade was his Player’s gift, an assumption Kai had been happy to let linger until now. Unfortunately, he could tell she was starting to connect the dots, and there was no skirting around this subject anymore.

  Resigned to addressing the matter, Kai cleared his throat. “By the way,” he began casually, as if to downplay the significance of what he was about to reveal, “I also want to tell you about Windslayer. My sword... it’s a Relic.”

  Hazie’s frown deepened immediately. “There’s more? Wait... Relic?”

  The sheer confusion on her face was almost comical. Her expression grew even more perplexed, her brows furrowing in frustration as she grappled with yet another layer of mystery. It was clear to Kai that she had no idea what a Relic was, which wasn’t surprising.

  From what he understood, the status rings provided only the most basic information programmed by the inventor—things like ranking and level. They didn’t include details about the Player's Gift, Relics or Bonds unless the wearer already possessed one. It wasn’t as though the rings came with a comprehensive user manual; the knowledge had to be earned, stumbled upon, or learned from others. Perhaps the wearer only needs to acquire a Relic or Binded creature for the ring to reveal the following information?

  In any case, that's for later to find out what Zara and Windslayer truly are.

  Kai sighed internally, realizing he couldn’t dodge this explanation. Other Players would find out eventually, might as well be the first to say.

  “Alright, listen carefully,” Trying to sound as neutral as possible, Kai tried hard to explain as Hazie’s expression grew more expectant. “Relics are... well, they’re unique items with powers themselves. They’re really rare, though. And bound to whoever discovers them. Windslayer isn’t just a sword—it’s a Relic I found.”

  "And how do you know all that?"

  He shrugged. "The description in the Ring told me."

  Hazie tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing as she processed his words. “So... these Relics—what, they just fall into people’s laps? How come my ring didn’t tell me about them?”

  Kai resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “The rings only tell you what you already have. If you don’t own a Relic, the system probably doesn’t bother explaining them. It’s not exactly user-friendly, but that’s how it works, apparently.”

  Doubt crossed her gaze. “And you just... happened to find one? Convenient.”

  Kai smirked slightly, leaning back against the rough cave wall. “Call it luck if you want. Or fate. Doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I have it, and it works.”

  Hazie didn’t look entirely convinced, but she didn’t press further, at least not yet. Instead, she crossed her arms, her expression pensive. It was clear she was mulling over everything he had told her—his supposed journey, his abilities, and now this new revelation about Relics.

  For now, Kai allowed the silence to stretch between them, letting her wrestle with the information on her own. He figured it was better this way; the more time she spent mulling over his explanations, the less likely she was to start poking holes in his carefully constructed narrative. The distant sound of their monstrous pursuer’s wrathful bellows echoed through the cave, growing louder as the beast relentlessly clawed and slammed against the narrow entrance.

  It was starting to get on his nerves.

  The quiet between them broke abruptly when Hazie, still deep in thought, suddenly asked, “Your Relic—what does it do?”

  Kai paused, the question hanging in the air as he considered his response. He could still hear the creature outside, its guttural snarls and pounding attempts growing increasingly desperate. The sound grated on his ears.

  It was getting annoying.

  He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and then rose to his feet with a fluid, almost lazy motion.

  “It’s better if I show you.”