A week passed.
Rain poured endlessly through the cracks above, turning the stone ground cold and slick.
Rin sat on the ground, drenched in sweat and rainwater, breathing heavily.
His chest rose and fell as he had run for days.
This past week had been nothing short of torture.
Tara had forced him to do everything.
Fight blindfolded.
Sense the movement of air.
Feel the shifts in presence.
Dodge attacks without looking.
React to sounds.
React to instinct.
And above all—
She had taught him every possible form of combat she knew.
There were millions of ways to move in battle.
Millions of ways to attack.
Millions of ways to defend.
Learning a move was easy.
Perfecting it until the body obeyed without thought—
That was hell.
But now—
Rin's body had changed.
It could twist, bend, evade, strike, and recover with a fluidity he never imagined before.
His reactions had sharpened.
His senses had sharpened.
Even his meditation had become deeper.
He was no longer fighting in panic.
He was beginning to fight with silence.
Tara stood a few meters away.
Not a single drop of sweat on her.
Not even her breathing had changed.
Rin clicked his tongue.
So this is what it means to be a god.
Tara crossed her arms.
"You have mastered enough for now."
Rin looked up.
Tara smiled.
"Now I have my own legacy."
Rin blinked.
"Legacy?"
She pointed at him.
"You."
Rin frowned.
Tara's smile widened.
"You are my legacy."
"Make me proud."
For some reason—
Rin smiled.
"Why not?"
He pushed himself to his feet and stretched his shoulders.
"Then let's head to the surface."
"You said you know the way, right?"
Tara hummed.
"Mm. I know the way."
Then she tilted her head.
"But why not rest for one day?"
Rin shook his head immediately.
"No."
"We have to hurry."
Tara stared at him for a few moments.
Then, somehow—
after several minutes of annoying insistence—
She convinced him to stay one more day.
That night—
They sat beside a small fire.
Orange flames flickered across the stone walls.
For once...
The abyss did not feel so hostile.
Tara looked at Rin from the corner of her eye.
"I'm curious."
Rin looked back.
"What?"
"Why are you in such a hurry to reach the surface?"
Rin was silent for a moment.
Then he answered quietly.
"I have friends."
"They'll be worried about me."
Tara turned slowly.
Her face showed genuine surprise.
"You have friends?"
Rin frowned.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Tara smiled.
"I thought you were imagining people to talk to."
Rin nearly choked.
"I am not that lonely!"
Tara nodded calmly.
"Really?"
"Yes!"
She counted on her fingers.
"When I first met you, you were rude."
Rin opened his mouth.
"You keep your eyes sharp all the time."
Rin shut it.
"You act like your guard is always raised."
Rin looked away.
"And there are many more reasons."
Rin's face twitched.
He looked at her in annoyance.
"Grandma."
Tara's expression instantly cracked.
"...What did you say?"
Rin smirked.
Tara narrowed her eyes.
For the next few minutes—
The two of them argued, mocked, and laughed like children.
A strange sound.
Laughter.
Inside the abyss.
For a brief moment—
Rin almost forgot where he was.
Almost.
Tara wiped a tear from laughing too hard.
Then she noticed Rin still smiling.
"There's another reason, isn't there?"
Rin's smile remained.
But something in it changed.
The warmth disappeared.
Only madness remained.
Tara's own smile slowly faded.
Rin stared into the fire.
His eyes reflected the flames like blood.
"Yes."
"There is."
Tara asked softly,
"What reason?"
Rin's lips curled upward.
"A promise."
Tara frowned.
"What promise?"
Rin looked up.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"A promise to kill him."
His fingers tightened.
"And tear him to shreds."
The fire crackled.
The whole neither of them slept, cracking jokes and laughing.