A dark pool of blood spread beneath the stone platform. Rhian lay at its center, unmoving.
His body looked broken. His skin was paler than usual, lips dry, and his chest barely rising.
Cuts marked his arms, his neck, even along his side where his shirt had torn open from the strain. If someone found him now, they'd think he was dead.
But the system still glowed faintly above him.
[99%]
Just one more percent.
That was all he needed.
He couldn't lift his arms anymore. His hands were curled at his sides, blood-caked and stiff. His mouth was still stained red from the last core he forced down.
The dull, grey remains of drained cores were scattered beside him. Over a dozen. Some cracked. Some whole but hollow. None usable.
He'd gone through all the F-ranks. Even the ones stored in Nia's bag.
Rhian blinked slowly. His vision doubled, then steadied. His breathing rasped. Every part of him screamed for rest.
But he wasn't done.
