After a series of smooth jumps and well-timed landings, Yuna was just one step away from reaching Dane. He turned toward her, a faint smile forming on his lips, ready to beckon her forward. But then, unexpectedly, Yuna changed direction.
Instead of joining him, she veered off and landed on a nearby stone pillar where a group of small, distressed creatures wailed softly. The animals were strange—like a cross between rabbits and dogs, but only the size of mice. Yuna had never seen such things before. She crouched down and extended her hand. Without hesitation, the three trembling creatures leapt into her palm, letting out pitiful cries before burrowing into the safety of her sleeve.
Just then, another burst of magma erupted violently, sending a spray of molten rock arcing toward Yuna's head.
"Watch out!" Dane shouted.
Without hesitation, he enhanced his leg strength and surged across the gap, landing beside her. He raised his arms and intercepted the splattering lava with his own body, shielding her from harm.
"Hiss—!" He gritted his teeth as the searing heat scorched his skin, but he still turned to Yuna with a concerned expression. "Are you alright?"
Yuna didn't immediately respond. Nor did she ask about his injury. She simply stared at him, studying the anxious look on his face.
She wasn't an expert in microexpressions, but she was no fool either. Having read countless stories and lived long enough with a healthy dose of skepticism, especially toward the so-called "gentle" class representative types, her gut told her something was off.
After all, someone capable of managing nearly fifty students—most of them arrogant, powerful, and rebellious—couldn't possibly be kind and selfless to the core. No, it took cunning and control to lead a class like that.
She didn't believe Dane had helped her out of pure altruism.
But… so what?
Regardless of his motive, he had shielded her from danger. Intentions aside, facts were facts—he suffered in her place. That alone was enough for her not to pass judgment.
Without a word of thanks or inquiry, Yuna pulled out a potion she had personally concocted and handed it to him. "Drink it. It's a healing potion."
Dane accepted the vial without comment. He didn't question her strange decision to detour and rescue dying animals, nor did he mock the gesture. He casually activated his enhancement ability out of habit but paused mid-action.
"Who made this?" he asked, as if it were a passing curiosity.
"I did. Don't worry—I'm an apothecary," Yuna replied lightly.
Dane looked at her, something unreadable in his eyes. Then he drank the potion. As he did, his tone turned conversational, almost relaxed, as if trying to spark small talk in the middle of a burning inferno.
"I've developed a habit of enhancing any object I use," he said with a chuckle. "It's something I do without thinking now. My ability works on most things… except things that have already reached their full potential."
He glanced at her again and gave her a mild, knowing smile. "With your skill in apothecary, Miss Yuna, many will be lining up to seek your help. You're not someone just anyone can catch up to. I daresay, your talent is unmatched."
Yuna understood immediately—he had seen it. The purity of her potion.
She hadn't gone out of her way to hide it, but she had no intention of publicizing it either. That's why, unlike many of her classmates, she never bothered selling her potions.
"It's troublesome," she said simply.
Not to mention, in this world, never flaunt your unique skills! Stay safe!
She is not that stupid you know?
"Quite modest," Dane replied with an easy smile.
Not wanting to dwell on the subject, Yuna changed the topic. "How far are we from the exit?"
Dane didn't press further. Instead, he gave her a good-natured nod. "Judging by the layout and my prior experience, it shouldn't be much farther. We're almost there."
Then, glancing at the tiny creatures nestled in her sleeve, he added gently, "You know… living beings can't be taken out of the domain world."
"I see." Yuna nodded calmly and said no more.
Dane's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and a flicker of pity crossed his eyes—but not for the animals.
It was for himself.
She wasn't so easily moved. Not manipulated by grand gestures. His injury had earned him no gratitude, no emotional opening he could use to deepen their connection. His usual methods—wounded heroics, subtle kindnesses—had no effect.
Still, it wasn't a complete loss. She had given him a potion of her own making—a potion with 100% purity.
That alone was a groundbreaking discovery.
You see, one of the biggest problems in apothecary work was impurity. Potions always left behind residual toxins. Over time, the accumulation of these impurities in the body could impair ability control and even cause permanent damage.
"Medicine is twenty percent poison," the saying went.
Yet everyone consumed potions. It was a necessary evil.
Even potions meant to remove impurities still contained a small amount of impurity themselves. But if Yuna could concoct impurity-cleansing potions with absolute purity… then she could truly eliminate the toxicity others only claimed to reduce.
Even if her combat power was weak, this ability alone would place her beyond reproach in the eyes of any elite circle. No one would dare underestimate her.
He chuckled quietly to himself.
She really was special.
No matter what, he had to build a connection with her. Whether through kindness, flattery, or quiet observation, he needed to study her—understand her—then cater to her nature, her preferences, her whims.
If brute sincerity didn't work, then subtle understanding would.
He wasn't going to let someone this valuable slip through his fingers.
To an outsider, the conversation between Yuna and Dane was difficult to interpret—cryptic at best, aloof at worst.
She was clearly being helped. He had shielded her from harm with his own body, yet she had neither thanked him nor so much as checked on his injury. Instead, she handed him a potion with the cool detachment of someone offering a bandage to a stranger.
The murmurs began almost immediately.
"She didn't even ask if he was hurt…"
"What a cold person. Just handed over some potion like it was payment."
"What is she thinking saving those animals in the midst of surviving?"
Some students tried to keep their voices low, but in a confined space filled with stress and scrutiny, the undercurrent of resentment didn't go unnoticed. A few were bold enough to speak more freely, their distaste bubbling to the surface.
"She probably used to treat Austin like that too. That guy's been following her around like a lapdog. Guess she's used to having people wait on her without a second thought."
Jealousy toward those who surpass them—especially when they can't do anything to bring those people down directly—leads them to target the ones who seem more vulnerable.
Since they can't lash out at Austin, they choose to direct their resentment at someone like Yuna, the one they perceive as weaker and more accessible.
After all, Austin may come from an ordinary background, but he's already far stronger than most of them and was even personally scouted by Professor Aldric, the famed Faus Swordmaster from Oriel Academy.
If it had been them in his place, they would've never hesitated to follow such a prestigious offer. They wouldn't have wasted their chance by staying behind in a crumbling institution like Evigheden Academy—especially one that dares to accept even commoners and lowborns.
"She's not even strong. If she were powerful, sure—people would accept her arrogance. But all she's got is her luck. The weak acting like a big lord... it's uncomfortable."
There was laughter. Snide. Sharp. Shallow.
But before the conversation could spiral further, a loud bang cracked through the air, silencing the chatter in an instant.
A boot had struck one of the nearby crates, sending splinters scattering.
"I see some of you have quite a loose mouth," a girl's voice said coldly. "Could you stop opening it? It stinks."
It was Celeste—one of the cheery members of the Heart Class. Her beauty was striking, but it was her biting sarcasm and chillier disposition towards outsiders that made people keep their distance.
Normally, the Heart Class refrained from engaging when students gossiped about Yuna. They were aware she drew special attention, both favorable….ah no…mostly unfavorable, and Yuna herself rarely showed any reaction to idle whispers. As long as she remained indifferent, they let the slander pass.
But now, with Yuna away inside the Domain and the murmurs growing too bold, their patience—which had never been deep to begin with—finally snapped.
The student Celeste addressed stiffened. He had seen what the Heart Class could do—how they moved in synch during battle, how their abilities harmonized, how ruthlessly efficient they were dealing with their target. He lowered his head, biting back any retort, but his heart twisted with deeper resentment.
When he glanced up again, his gaze met cold blue eyes watching him from across the platform—emotionless, but brimming with quiet malice.
The air around the boy grew cold. He quickly averted his gaze, a chill crawling down his spine.
But that silent exchange only fueled his growing hatred for Yuna and the ordinary born but surpassing him, Austin.
"She really knows how to seduce and hold onto the strong… just another weakling clinging to powerful thighs," he muttered bitterly under his breath.
As if to validate his grievance, someone bumped into him harshly, nearly sending him off balance.
"Watch it—!" he snapped, turning around.
But the person who had shoved past him didn't even glance his way.
"Don't block the path," the voice said flatly—neither hostile nor apologetic. Just dismissive.
He recognized them instantly. Three figures. The elder sister with hair tied back in a high ponytail, and her two younger brothers, tall and expressionless, eyes sharp as blades.
The Scilla siblings.
A lowborn.
But they are stronger than him, a weak mage. In this broken academy, his noble status didn't hold any prestige so he can't make trouble for them.
They didn't hide their support for Yuna. Even now, they moved with deliberate intention, walking through the crowd like wolves through sheep, responding to disrespect with silent but absolute dominance.
"Tch… Yuna's dogs," the boy scoffed under his breath, though this time he kept his head down.
Yes, there were many in the academy who despised seeing someone weak act above their station—especially if that person received protection and attention others had to bleed for.
But not all students felt the same.
Evigheden Academy was a melting pot of temperaments and ideologies. Some lived for strength, others for knowledge, and some simply wanted to survive. To many, Yuna's actions were unbothered independence, not arrogance. To others, her quiet acceptance of protection and her refusal to pander for approval marked her as aloof and manipulative.
A social microcosm formed around her—some disgusted by her, others indifferent, and a growing number quietly aligning themselves with her.
From the sidelines, Austin watched it all unfold with a faint smile curling at the edges of his lips.
The Scilla siblings taking initiative to shut down gossip? That was great improvement.
In the past, they would've avoided confrontation, their goal to survive quietly in a school where power ruled and politics cut deeper than blades. They've always been acutely aware of their low birth status, having endured discrimination from the very beginning of their lives.
So, they were always mindful.
But now, they were actively monitoring those who spoke too much—those who dared to tarnish Yuna's name.
Their loyalty was no longer simple gratitude.
No, something deeper was taking root.
Austin's training was bearing fruit. He could see it in how their eyes tracked Yuna's name whenever it surfaced. How their instincts began revolving around her.
She was becoming their axis.
Good.
As for the heart class, who were utterly devoted to Yuna, he didn't need to intervene at all—they willingly bound themselves in loyalty, keeping each other in check to ensure no one crossed the line. Like a unified hive mind, their world now quietly orbited around Yuna. His Yuna was simply too remarkable—it irritated him how easily she drew others in, but at the same time, the more people who were devoted to her, the safer she became. And besides…
He turned his attention back to the screen displaying the events inside the domain, his faint smile disappeared. A frown settled in its place.
A dungeon. A real one.
This world—the so-called "training realm" the academy used—. He had assumed he would have time to grow steadily, that the pressure would be gradual.
But the stakes had suddenly escalated.
Having come from a world ravaged by dungeons, he knew better than to ever take lightly a world that was being encroached by one.
His frown deepened. He hadn't realized that dungeons had invaded the world he'd reincarnated into—now that he did, his urgency to grow stronger intensified significantly.
He clenched his fists slowly, eyes narrowing with purpose.
He had to become stronger.
Yuna, focused solely on finding the exit within the domain, had no idea about the thoughts constantly churning inside Austin's head. If she ever found out, she would no doubt grab him by the shoulders and shake him hard, trying to knock some sense into his warped logic and distorted view of her.
Luckily—or perhaps unluckily—Yuna couldn't read minds.