[Chapter 61. Return]

  It was already morning, the pale light filtering through the forest canopy below to cast shifting patterns on the forest floor. Searanox stood on the tower's balcony, looking over the forest below. Iris had yet to return; it had been almost two days since she entered. But Searanox was fairly certain that she was still alive—he was not sure, but it would make no sense to have dead people still listed in the guild's system.

  This was his only anchor. He was fighting with himself not to enter the dungeon. If he were to enter and she cleared it right then, he would sabotage the only reason she had entered alone. On the other hand, she was too important to lose; the information she had as a former guide are irreplaceable.

  So he stood there and waited. The recon drone had been switched out for a healing drone. It was given one simple order: when she came out, immediately heal her.

  Time passed. From atop his balcony, he could see four small dots running around in the clearing of the tower. Sometimes there were flashes of light of some sort; one was dashing from one point to another without delay. From that height, it looked almost comical.

  But all of that became irrelevant the moment he got a mental ping.

  He was off the tower in a mere instant, his travel drone almost crashing into the dirt just to get him down faster. The healing drone was already repairing burned skin and broken bones; there were three more the moment he saw her condition. Items lay in front of her on the ground, her hands still holding onto a small pouch and a silver chain.

  He knelt down. The items vanished into his storage ring; her sword was placed inside a cargo drone due to its size. As the drones healed her, he slowly and carefully picked her up from the floor. She looked almost dead, but there was a pulse.

  Searanox did not mount his travel drone but carried her back to the tower on foot, his healing drones hovering over him. Constantly supplying healing to Iris. With a brisk pace, he stepped through the forest. It was the first time he had walked through the forest itself since the mana conversion happened.

  Without this incident. He would have never known how many beasts roamed the forest. There were dozens upon dozens—from small, rabbit-like beasts to hulking brutes that could wrestle a bear with ease. None of them came even close to challenging him; they were picked off the moment they were noticed, their startled cries cut short as they fell. They were mere low-level beasts, after all. Their presence barely a footnote.

  As Searanox emerged from the dense treeline into the open clearing, Iris looked... better. Still limp like a corpse, her fur patchy and singed where it was not fully burned away and showing blistering skin. His four healing drones were repairing her internal damage on their way back, she was no longer on deaths door. Even though she looked like it. The only indication that she was not a corpse was the frantic rising and falling of her chest, which was now calmer; her breathing was no longer a desperate struggle. He passed the four women without a glance or word, his focus absolute. They said something, their voices a distant. Meaningless buzz against the pounding in his ears, but he didn't listen. Their words unimportant in the face of her condition.

  Once inside the tower, he teleported right up onto the highest floor and laid her down on the velvet sheets of his bed. The deep purple fabric a stark contrast to her fur. As he was about to leave, her paw held tightly onto his coat. The grip surprisingly strong. He looked down at her paw, the claws still partially extended and gave a small almost imperceptible nod before he sat down on the edge of the bed. The frame groaning softly under his weight.

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  The drones stopped healing her after what felt like hours, their blue lights finally fading; they didn't continue even after he commanded them to. Their task complete. He looked at her now. Her fur was no longer burned and matted—it was clean and soft, shimmering faintly in the room's ambient light. The wounds were closed, sealed perfectly without any scaring. She looked as if she were merely sleeping.

  "I told you to be careful and not to push yourself..." Searanox said in a quiet voice, his hand moving almost on its own to brush a stray strand of silver from her forehead. The fur impossibly soft.

  He sat there for a long time, watching her. The silence of the room broken only by the low hum of the tower. Slowly, her grip on his coat tightened. A subtle shift in pressure. Then her tail began to twitch, a slow languid movement against the velvet sheets. Then her finger, and then she slowly opened her silver eyes. The pupils dilating as they struggled to focus on his face.

  "What... happened?" Her voice was barely more than a rasp, a dry scratchy sound.

  "I was hoping you could tell me that." he answered. "You were a mess when I found you." A blue light shone from his hand as it manifested the items she had dropped, the glow illuminating his face. He held out the silver chain, the metal cold. "This was on you." The lodestone and pouch followed, clinking softly. "And this." He placed the items on the nightstand, the sounds small in the quiet room.

  Iris slowly pushed herself up, her movements stiff and sore despite the drones work. A quiet whimper escaping her lips. Her gaze fell on the items, a flicker of recognition in her silver eyes. With a firm but gentle hand on her chest, he pushed her back down. The message clear.

  "Two things, Iris. First, you wasted quite a lot of time. I told you there was no need to rush. Almost two days—that's six runs that are irreversibly gone." he said in a disciplinary tone. His voice flat and uncompromising, the words a stark contrast to the gentle touch that had just pushed her down.

  As she tried to say something, he brushed the side of her muzzle and leaned in. His touch surprisingly gentle against her soft fur. "But you completed your first dungeon solo. And for that, you will be rewarded. Furthermore, I will be using the necklace you found. You can have mine; it does essentially the same thing. Except that instead of five, it only grants one mana per second."

  "I'm sorry." she rasped out, her throat dry as desert sand. Each word a painful struggle. "The Flame Spewer… I had no mana. I lost the supplies. After that, the Devourer…" Her voice trailed off. Her gaze distant, her silver eyes clouding over as she relived the fight in her mind—the searing flames, the crushing weight. The desperate last stand. "I had to finish it."

  He watched her, his expression unreadable. His face a mask of calculated indifference. He saw the exhaustion in her eyes, deep wells of fatigue that went beyond mere physical tiredness. He saw the ghost of the pain she had endured, the memory of burns and broken bones etched in the tight lines around her eyes. He saw the defiance, the stubborn refusal to give up even when death was certain. A flicker of respect passed through him, an unwanted acknowledgment of her strength. Before he crushed it down.

  "Iris." he said, his voice low but firm. Cutting through the haze of her memories. "You are more valuable to me alive and whole, than dead and decorated with loot." He paused, letting the words sink in. Their pragmatic truth landing with the weight of a stone. "Rest up. Eat and drink something." He stood up, his movements fluid as he motioned to a table where a bottle of water and something light to eat had been prepared.

  His hand lingered on her muzzle for a moment longer, softly and softly scratching with his fingers. A rare display that seemed almost out of place. "You get your reward tonight, dear."

  With that, he stepped away. His fingers sliding over her muzzle in one last, lingering touch before he turned. Then he was out the door, the soft click of it closing echoing in the quiet room. Leaving her alone with her thoughts and the promise of reward hanging in the air.