After doing a quick sweep around the camp’s jagged stone barrier to ensure no flying or crawling abominations were lurking nearby, Kaiser felt slightly at ease. Leaving an unconscious young woman alone and defenseless in a place like this would be reckless beyond measure. His sharp eyes scanned every shadow and crag for movement, his ears attuned to the faintest sound. Satisfied that no immediate threats loomed, he deemed it safe—if only for a few moments—to leave the camp.

  Without wasting time, Kaiser set off on his mission: securing food and water. Survival in this forsaken undersea mountain range demanded efficiency especially when he's partner is vulnerable. Fortunately, he knew where to start. Heading back to the site of his earlier fall, he returned to the mutilated corpse of the four-winged bat the roll had slain. Its carcass lay sprawled across the uneven terrain, grotesque and otherworldly. Kaiser didn’t flinch as he hacked off a sizable chunk of its dense, rubbery flesh, tying it securely before moving on to his next task.

  Water.

  This proved trickier to find, but eventually, he did. The cold of the Undersea Mountains was biting but not fatal, provided one had proper protection and avoided prolonged, reckless exposure, so water does not freeze here. The landscape was dotted with pools of stagnant water clinging to the obsidian rocks, likely remnants of some oceanic deluge from above. It was no fresh spring, but it would suffice for his needs.

  Kaiser crouched by one such puddle and cupped the icy water in his hands, lifting it to his lips. The chill bit into his skin, but the liquid slid down his throat with surprising smoothness, carrying an odd, metallic aftertaste he could not quite place. Despite its alien flavor, it felt refreshing, quenching his thirst.

  But then, a problem arose.

  While he could risk drinking the unpurified water, Hazie was not blessed with immortality. Her fragile humanity meant the water had to be boiled first, and for that, he needed a suitable container—something that would allow him to transfer and sturdy enough to hold the liquid and withstand the heat of the flames. Kaiser’s gaze drifted over the rocky terrain, searching for anything useful.

  It was then that he noticed something peculiar: dark, rounded shapes clinging to the sides of the rocks, blending seamlessly with the obsidian surface. At first glance, they appeared to be part of the environment—motionless and rough-textured, like barnacles fused to the stone. But their size and subtle, bulbous curves caught his attention.

  Curious, Kaiser pried one loose, revealing a creature inside its bowl-like shell. Its rough exterior camouflaged perfectly with the rocks, and its structure resembled a cross between a barnacle and a snail. The shell was large, about the size of a human head, with a natural concavity that could serve as a makeshift container.

  Kaiser examined his find, noting how easily the creature came away from the stone. It seemed to be in some form of hibernation, its sluggish movements offering little resistance. With a sharp, precise motion, he dispatched the creature with the help of Windslayer's and inspected its shell. It was surprisingly lightweight yet durable, perfect for his needs.

  He didn’t stop at one. Scouting the area, he harvested several more of these barnacle-like creatures, their shells and meat now part of his growing supplies. Kai would have explored longer if not for the need of haste. After gathering everything, he spared a glance toward the towering summit to the northern steep, its jagged edges drowning in dimness and impossibly far away, with only the ramp-like steep as the only path to the top. The climb loomed over him like a taunting specter, a reminder of just how far he had fallen—and how much he had to climb if he wanted to return.

  He sighed, before turning around. With his haul secured, Kaiser made his way back to the camp. The icy atmosphere tore at his exposed skin, but he pressed on, determined. By the time he reached the camp’s barrier, the glow of the fire greeted him, flickering weakly against the shadows.

  He stepped inside, shaking off the cold as he set his findings down. A glance at Hazie’s resting form steadied his resolve. There was work to be done, and lots to think about.

  After setting the water to boil in the makeshift shell-container and impaling chunks of bat meat on his sword to roast over the crackling flames, Kaiser settled into a quiet vigil. The firelight danced across the rocks within the tent, casting fleeting shadows that flickered like ghosts. He leaned back, his weary gaze fixed on the hypnotic movements of the flames, letting his thoughts wander.

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  Hazie would wake up eventually—maybe in an hour, maybe longer—but for now, silence reigned. Left alone with his thoughts, Kaiser found himself doing what he always did in moments of idleness: overthinking. And tonight, his mind latched onto one unsettling question he had not been able to shake since discovering it earlier.

  Why had his strength diminished?

  At first, Kaiser dismissed it as excessive mental exhaustion. The battles, the relentless running, twisting revelations, and the mental toll of crossing into the abyssal chaos of this realm had pushed him to his limits. But after resting and recovering enough to stand and move freely, his strength should have fully returned.

  Yet it hadn’t.

  It was subtle but undeniable. His reflexes were slower. His grip lacked their usual force. Even his body’s resilience to external conditions, like the biting cold, seemed compromised. Before, he might have scoffed at this temperature as a mere inconvenience like the heat of the wildfire. Now, he felt the creeping chill as if it could sink its claws into his core, threatening to kill him if he lingered too long without adequate protection.

  Kaiser frowned, turning the problem over in his mind, searching for answers. He didn’t like it—this feeling of being less than himself. He didn’t like the vulnerability it implied. More so because he earned it through blood and death.

  Then, an unsettling thought took root.

  His immortality, the miraculous ability that allowed him to cheat death at the cost of unimaginable pain, might have more consequences than he had initially understood. As far as he understood, defeating creatures fed their souls into his own, a process the majority called as "Leveling." Each victory strengthened him, enhancing his physical abilities and pushing him further beyond the limits of ordinary humans.

  But what if a certain participant defies death in this cruel game of power?

  Kaiser sat up straighter, his jaw tightening as he followed the thread of this grim possibility. If his growth came from absorbing the essence of others, then what happened to that essence when he died? Could it be... leaking away?

  He pictured his soul as a vessel—a balloon filled with the energy of accomulated victories. Perhaps every death he endured was like a puncture, releasing the hard-earned strength he had accumulated into the void of death. Not all at once, but steadily, like a slow, insidious leak. That would explain why his power hadn’t vanished entirely but had clearly diminished, leaving him weaker than before.

  The thought sent a shiver down his spine, one that had nothing to do with the cold.

  The realization was disheartening, to say the least. His immortality, which had seemed like the ultimate advantage, now felt like a double-edged sword. Yet, as much as the idea gnawed at him, Kaiser couldn’t bring himself to regret the trade. It's a cheap price for a miraculous chance to live again, to keep moving forward, even if it means he has to fight harder to protect the strength he had left.

  He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as the meat began to sizzle on the blade of his sword.

  'I just need to stop dying' he thought to himself, a grim smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  "Simple, right?"

  Simple in theory, perhaps. But Kaiser knew better than anyone that the life he led was anything but thanks to misfortune always chasing after his tail.

  Kaiser let the flames warm his hands as he stared into the dancing flames, watching as the food cook, his thoughts a tumultuous blend of problems and possibilities. Amid the grim realities of his weakened state and the monumental task ahead, a bright realization flickered in his mind, cutting through the haze like a ray of light. Because after considering it for hours, he realized that scaling the great steep to reach the summit was unachievable.

  At least, not in the way he initially thought. Kaiser could, theoretically, grit his teeth, steel his resolve, and begin the arduous climb with sheer determination. But as much as he hated to admit it, raw perseverance wouldn’t conquer the unforgiving, near-vertical expanse of jagged rock and ice—if there's any—that loomed far above the summit.

  Determination alone wouldn't cut the mountain.

  He had no experience in rock climbing, no knowledge of the proper techniques, no equipment to aid his ascent. The great steep wasn’t something he could brute-force through sheer willpower. Each failure would see him plummeting to the ground, his immortality dragging him through the agony of death, only for him to rise and try again—each attempt likely ending the same way.

  It was a maddening cycle, and while he could theoretically endure it, there was one glaring problem: time.

  Even if he mastered the steep terrain and acquired the skills through countless deaths, how long would it take? Kaiser roughly estimated the climb itself, assuming uninterrupted progress, would take anywhere from two to five months for a normal human. But factoring in failures, and the painstaking process of trial and error, it could easily stretch into years because immortality can't defy gravity. Years spent on a single climb while the world above and below continued without him.

  That wasn’t a price he was willing to pay.

  No, he needed to work smarter, not harder.

  His solution came in the form of a group he had been reluctant to acknowledge: the Players. Their presence in this dim world turns out to be a blessing due to their resourcefulness. They had crafted clothes, tents, and tools to aid their survival in their own journey, proving their ingenuity. If Kaiser could integrate himself into their group—however briefly—he might gain access to the equipment he needed: ropes, harnesses, tools, and perhaps even knowledge from those who had experienced scaling cliffs.

  With the right gear and preparation, the climb wouldn’t take years.

  And best of all…

  Kaiser’s gaze shifted to Hazie, still sleeping soundly beneath her royal blue coat.

  He wouldn’t have to leave her behind, forsaken her just like what others did.

  The thought was an immense relief, easing the guilt that had been gnawing at him. For all his frustration at the situation, Hazie didn’t deserve to be abandoned—not after everything she had already endured despite being a mere disposable fragment. He's really thankful that he could pursue his goal without sacrificing the humanity Kai's been trying to reclaim.

  The sound of movement pulled him from his reverie. Hazie stirred beneath her blanket, a soft groan escaping her lips as she began to wake up.