The Kingdom of Oros had learned to bury its past. The Ashen Tombs were proof of that. Even now, with the sun hanging low and shadows stretching across the ruins, the air carried the scent of burnt earth and something older—something that refused to die. The kind of place people only entered when they had nothing left to lose. Ren crouched behind a crumbling stone, his breath steady but shallow, his eyes fixed on the dark entrance. His hand pressed lightly against his chest. A faint crack echoed inside him. Not loud. Not visible. But there. Always there. "…Still leaking," he muttered. Mana slipped through him again, gathering for a moment before vanishing like sand through broken fingers. Useless.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Lira's voice came from behind him, low and tense. She stood a few steps back, eyes scanning the tomb like it might swallow them whole. Ren didn't turn. "Do we have a choice?" "The Alchemist Union won't wait," he added. "They want their money. And I need that medicine." Lira's expression tightened. "…For Mira." Ren nodded once. That was enough.
The wind shifted, carrying dust and the faint hum of unstable mana. Lira hesitated. "We could try somewhere safer." "With what time?" Ren asked quietly. She didn't answer. Because there wasn't any. "…Fine," she said after a moment. "But if we die in there, I'm blaming you." Ren let out a faint breath. "…Fair."
They stepped inside. The temperature dropped immediately. The air grew heavier, thicker. Ren felt it—mana everywhere, close, almost within reach. His fingers twitched. He reached out instinctively—and felt it slip away again. "…Damn it," he muttered.
They moved deeper, footsteps echoing against cracked stone. Faint runes lined the walls, worn but still carrying traces of something ancient. Ren could feel it pulling at him. Not welcoming. Not hostile. Just… aware. "Look," Lira said suddenly. Ren followed her gaze. Half-buried beneath rubble sat a small chest etched with old markings. Hope rose. Sharp. Dangerous.
"Help me," Ren said. They forced it open. Light spilled out. Inside—mana shards. Lira's eyes widened. "That's enough. More than enough." Ren nodded slowly. "…Yeah." Enough to pay the debt. Enough to buy medicine. Enough to keep Mira alive—for now.
Ren reached toward the shards—then stopped. "…Wait." "What?" The air shifted. Subtle. Wrong. Ren's expression hardened. "…We're not alone." A low growl echoed through the chamber. Lira's grip tightened. "…Ren." "I hear it."
The shadows moved. Something stepped out. Big. Too big. Its body was covered in iron-like scales, each movement grinding heavily. Its glowing eyes locked onto them. "…We should go," Lira said. Ren didn't argue. "Take what you can."
The creature growled—then moved. Fast. "MOVE!" Ren shouted, grabbing Lira and pulling her aside as its claw slammed into the ground, shattering stone. They ran. No plan. Just survival. "Why is it so fast?!" Lira shouted. "Because it wants us dead!" Ren snapped.
The tunnel twisted ahead as the creature chased them relentlessly, its steps shaking the ground. Ren's chest burned. His breathing grew uneven. Not just from running. His core was reacting—stronger than before. "Ren! Dead end!" Lira shouted.
He stopped. A massive stone door blocked their path. Sealed. Behind them—the creature closed in. "…Great," Ren muttered. Think. The door. The mana. The pressure in his chest. "…Move," he said. "What?" "Just move!" Lira stepped aside.
Ren pressed his hand against the stone. "…Just once," he whispered. "…Don't slip." His core pulsed. The familiar crack spread through his chest—pain followed—but this time something changed. The mana didn't disappear. It stayed. One second. Two. Ren's eyes widened. "…No way…"
The door trembled. Behind him, the creature roared closer. "REN!" "I've got it!" he shouted. He pushed harder, everything he had. The mana surged through him, filling the cracks instead of escaping. Burning. Unstable. But holding. "OPEN!" The door burst inward.
Ren grabbed Lira and they fell through as the creature's claw slammed down behind them. Silence. Ren lay there, breathing hard. His body ached. His chest burned. But his core—it hadn't emptied.
"…I…" Lira stared at him. "…You used mana." Ren slowly lifted his hand. A faint spark flickered—and stayed just a little longer than before. "…Yeah," he whispered.
For the first time—he smiled.