When Adyr returned home, he didn't jump straight into the game.
First, he had the dinner Niva had prepared, then washed the dishes. Afterward, as she had begged him to, he helped her with her studies. With the big exam approaching, Niva's stress had been steadily growing, and since she knew she performed best when studying with her brother, she had been bugging him more than usual lately.
As the clock ticked into the late evening, Adyr finally made his way to his room.
He started by fixing the broken door handle with whatever tools he had on hand, making sure he wouldn't be disturbed. Then he changed the melted candle from the night before, lit a fresh one, and placed it where the light wouldn't bother him.
Before logging in, he repeated the same exercises he had done yesterday to better understand his strength. Though bodyweight training no longer did much for him physically, it still helped him control and measure his power.
And during that process, he realized something else.
When he first started the game, his [Physical] stat was 2. Considering he'd been doing strength training since he was a child, it made sense. If someone without any training had a stat of 1, then being twice as strong aligned with what he knew about himself. Based on that, he began to suspect that the average person's base stats—Physical and possibly the others as well—might all start at 1.
That is… if the game's stats truly reflected reality.
After finishing his physical and mental routine, he grabbed the now fully charged helmet, placed it on his head, and lay down on the bed.
The screen went pitch black.
Then, once again, glowing neon green numbers began to count down.
3…
2…
1…
When his vision returned, the familiar interior of the prison came into view. There was only one thing this could mean—the one escape scenario he had hoped for had come true.
But something was off—Vesha was nowhere to be seen. In the scenario he had imagined, she should've been here with him, trapped in the prison as skeletons clawed at the cell bars trying to get in.
Wondering what had happened to her, Adyr looked around, scanning for any detail that might explain her absence.
The cell he was in now wasn't the one where he'd found Vesha—it was two cells over. And this one had a working door, intact and shut.
Adyr kicked the rusted, centuries-old door open with a single strike. Unlike the three dramatic, prolonged kicks he had used on Vesha's cell door—purely for show—this one broke apart instantly with just one.
He then walked two cells down to where he had originally found her and began inspecting the area carefully. Whatever had happened, the answers were here—in the details left behind.
This is where I dropped. Face-first. After the logout.
He knelt, fingers brushing the damp earth.
And here—this is where she saw me. Crawled forward. Then stopped.
Adyr moved in closer, studying the trail she had left behind. The soil was still damp, the markings faint but readable.
There's a trace—hesitation. She was moving toward me to check, but something startled her. Fear, maybe. Or shock.
Probably heard something.
Skeletons. Rushing this way.
She panicked. Acted.
She grabbed my legs. Dragged me two cells over.
She struggled, but she got there. Impressive. For a girl who had no energy left. Must've been adrenaline.
Adyr paused, something bothering him as he replayed the trail in his mind. Something didn't add up.
She didn't go in. Just closed the door behind. Why? Did she think she could outrun them? No. That's not like her.
He frowned and began following the footprints that continued past the cell. She walked straight in the direction skeletons came.
He traced the prints farther, until they collided with another set—deeper, heavier, skeletal. At their intersection, he found a dark patch of blood pooled on the ground.
"So this is what happened." Adyr crouched, touching the still-wet stain as the truth settled in.
She pulled me in, thinking the bars wouldn't hold them. Then she sealed the door and ran. Not to escape, but to draw their attention away.
A flicker of something crossed his otherwise blank face. ''Why? Why go that far?''
For a moment, a scene flashed through his mind. The moment he took the purple crystal… and the look on Vesha's face.
"What did she see in me? Who did she think I was… to make that trade? Her life—for mine?" He murmured, staring at the crimson staining his fingers.
It's a drip pattern—non-lethal. The blood's dark, likely venous. Judging by the position, it came from the arm or a shallow chest wound. The volume… not enough to kill. Even for someone as small as her.
Thankfully, Adyr's questions might not go unanswered—he knew Vesha hadn't died. Not yet, anyway.
He didn't know why the skeletons had taken Vesha or where, but that was a question he could answer once he found her. So without wasting time, he got to his feet and followed the trail.
Navigating the cave's labyrinthine paths with practiced ease, he moved forward. Here and there, he spotted fresh blood mixed with skeletal footprints and drag marks, along with signs of a struggle. Far from alarming, these were encouraging. It meant Vesha was still alive.
After progressing for a while and dispatching a few wandering skeletons to absorb their crystals, Adyr heard voices coming from the far end of the corridor.
"I command you in the name of God, Astraeus—stay back, you vile creatures!"
The voice was desperate, male, tangled with the sharp clash of weapons—and it was spoken in Latin.
As Adyr moved a little closer, he finally gained a clear line of sight to the source.
The figure was short—no taller than 1.60 meters—and looked to be in his twenties. His eyes were wide like Vesha's, but instead of her icy blue, his were a deep black. He held a short sword in one hand, a round shield in the other, and wore armor that resembled medieval plate—metallic and protective, covering most of his body except the joints.
Adyr's first thought was that he might be one of the guards who had come with Vesha.
Three skeletons were attacking the man, pressing him hard. He looked exhausted and wounded, and the blunt weapons in the skeletons' hands gave them an edge against his round shield.
The fight was nearing its end—the outcome already decided. Still, Adyr had no intention of intervening. He simply watched.
Before long, the man gave in to exhaustion. His shield arm dropped, leaving his head exposed—just in time to take a crushing blow. He collapsed, unconscious, but alive.
To Adyr's satisfaction, the skeletons didn't deliver a killing strike. Instead, they grabbed him and began dragging him away.
They were taking him somewhere. And wherever that was, it was likely the place Adyr needed to find.