The Rank Three beast struck with terrifying force.
Eryon gritted his teeth, rolling under the first swipe of its massive claws. His dagger flashed out, leaving a shallow cut along its scaled leg—barely enough to slow it.
The creature roared, whipping its tail toward him like a battering ram. Eryon dove to the side, narrowly avoiding being crushed.
He fought with everything he had, darting, weaving, striking with his dagger when he could, relying solely on his physical strength and agility. His body moved on instinct, honed through years of brutal training.
Just as the beast lunged again, a sharp stone hurled through the air, striking the beast's side and drawing its attention. Alice, pale but determined, had recovered.
Without a word, she joined the fray.
The battle became a frantic dance of survival. Alice used swift, precise strikes with a short sword she carried, while Eryon harried the creature with relentless, well-placed blows. Their teamwork was rough but effective, covering each other's openings through sheer grit and coordination.
The beast fought savagely, its roars shaking the trees around them. Blood—both human and beast—spattered the forest floor.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Eryon found his moment.
He feinted left, forcing the beast to turn its head—and Alice, gathering the last of her strength, drove her sword deep into its exposed eye.
The creature let out one final, bone-rattling scream before collapsing in a heap.
Eryon fell to his knees, gasping for air, while Alice leaned heavily against a nearby tree, just as exhausted.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Alice straightened, brushing dirt from her tunic with a casual flick of her hand, her face as impassive as ever.
"Why?" she asked simply, her ocean-blue eyes locking onto Eryon's.
Eryon blinked, confused. "Why what?"
"Why did you interfere?" she pressed, her voice cool and unreadable.
Eryon shrugged, wincing slightly from his bruises. "I didn't think. I just moved. It wasn't some grand plan—I just… acted."
Alice studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable.
Without warning, she knelt beside the fallen beast, dug into its chest with effort, and extracted the glowing Rank Three core. Without even glancing at it, she tossed the core toward Eryon.
It landed with a dull thud at his feet.
"Take it," she said flatly. "And leave."
Eryon stared at the core, then back at her.
Something twisted in his chest—a mix of pride and anger.
Slowly, he stood.
He picked up the core—then dropped it deliberately onto the ground at her feet.
"I don't need charity," he said, voice firm. "And I certainly don't need your disdain."
He met her gaze evenly, his golden eyes burning with quiet conviction.
"I act according to my heart," he said simply. "Not for rewards. Not for thanks."
Without waiting for a response, Eryon turned and walked away, disappearing into the trees.
Alice watched him go, a flicker of something—confusion, curiosity, perhaps even respect—crossing her usually impassive face.
For the first time, the enigmatic girl felt a strange intrigue ignite within her chest.
Who exactly are you, Eryon Solaris?