(Arin's POV)
The journey home from the Swamp Forest felt far longer and more exhausting than when we departed this morning.
The sky above us hung low, covered by thick and heavy gray clouds, as if pressing down on the earth with the weight of invisible despair. There was no warm afternoon sunlight to comfort us, only gloomy light reflecting off the puddles left by last night's rain.
I walked in silence beside Rose. My mud-caked boots clashed with the stone path, creating a dragging and weary rhythm.
No light conversation. No casual teasing or jokes about who was better at hunting. The air between us was filled with the thick residue of tension from the fight against the assassin earlier. The fishy smell of blood starting to dry under my armor, mixed with the sulfur scent of the Goblin dung smoke bomb still clinging faintly to our clothes, served as a silent reminder of how close death had touched my neck.
Rose glanced at me occasionally from the corner of her eye with an anxious look. I knew she wanted to ask many things. She wanted to ask how bad my wounds were, or maybe wanted to curse how reckless we were. But she held back. Rose knew when someone needed to talk and when someone needed to piece back their sanity in silence.
We arrived at the junction separating the boys' and girls' dormitory areas. The black iron dormitory gate towered solidly ahead, a firm boundary between the wild outside world and the academy's golden cage.
I stopped walking, taking a deep breath that stung my bruised ribs.
"Rose," I called softly, my voice sounding hoarse and dry.
Rose stopped instantly, turning to look at me with a serious face. Her red hair no longer fluttered spiritedly but fell limply on her tired-looking shoulders.
"Just say it," she answered briefly, waiting for instructions.
"Tell Elena," I said, staring straight into her eyes to emphasize urgency. "Tomorrow night. Ten o'clock sharp. In the Third Floor Library Archive Room."
Rose frowned in confusion. "Old Archive Room? That dusty place no one ever visits except rats and bookworms?"
"Exactly," I cut in quickly. "That is the only place in this academy where the walls do not have ears. Bring her there. Do not bring guards, do not bring ladies-in-waiting, and do not let anyone see. Just you and her."
Rose stared at me sharply for a few seconds, looking for doubt in my face. When she found none, she nodded firmly.
"I understand. The situation has changed drastically, right?"
"Changed greatly," I answered coldly. "Our enemy is no longer school thugs playing fisticuffs in the cafeteria."
"Fine. Clean yourself up, Arin. You smell of death and filth," said Rose, trying to break the ice with her trademark mockery, though her smile did not reach her eyes. "Do not die before tomorrow night. I do not want to meet alone."
"You take care too."
Rose turned and walked quickly toward the girls' dormitory, her straight back slowly disappearing behind the descending evening mist.
I stood alone for a moment, letting the cold wind slap my dirty and sticky face. Then, with the last remaining strength, I dragged my heavy steps toward the boys' dormitory.
My dorm room felt cold and quiet when I entered, contrasting with the noise in my head.
I took off the scratched Mithril Armor and placed it on the workbench with a loud clack. The expensive metal clinked softly, showing off a deep new scratch on the left shoulder.
I carried my steps to the sink, turned the tap, and washed my face with refreshing cold water. The water in the sink turned pink as it mixed with the dried blood residue on my face. I stared at my reflection in the slightly cracked mirror. Pale, tired, and the eyes... the eyes looked older than eighteen years.
"You are weak, Arin," I whispered to the mirror in a self-loathing tone. "You almost died by one nameless person."
The attack earlier was a hard slap to my ego. All this time I felt on top of the world for successfully defeating Gordon and the Silver Golem. I felt smart for successfully extorting the Duke. But today, reality punched me in the face mercilessly that I was still a small fish in a pond full of hungry sharks.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound of knocking on the door broke my gloomy daydream. The pattern was unique: two quick knocks, a pause, then one slow knock.
That was the secret code I gave to one person.
I wiped my face with a rough towel, then opened the door warily.
Tom Garius stood there. He wore a hooded cloak covering his noble uniform, looking left and right down the hallway paranoidly before sneaking into my room like a thief.
"You are late," I said flatly, closing the door and locking it tight.
"Sorry... I had to make sure no Vesper spies were following me," answered Tom with ragged breath. His face was deathly pale, cold sweat soaking his forehead. He looked like a mouse that had just escaped a venomous snake's mouth.
"Sit down first," I ordered, pointing to the wooden chair near the table.
Tom sat, his hands trembling on his knees. Tom looked at me, then looked at the damaged Mithril armor on the table. He swallowed hard.
"I heard rumors... there was smoke in the Swamp Forest. Were you attacked?" he asked carefully.
"Just buzzing flies," I answered, not wanting to give him details that could make him more afraid and back down. "Focus on your task, Tom. What did you get from Vesper?"
Tom took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He reached into his cloak pocket but did not take out paper.
"I could not steal the map or physical logistics list," said Tom regretfully. "Vesper... he is paranoid. He keeps all important documents inside a dimensional bag locked with blood magic. I cannot touch it without triggering an alarm."
I nodded slowly. "Just as I suspected. Vesper is the type of accountant who trusts no one, not even his own shadow. If he were careless, he would not be Karl's treasurer."
"But," Tom straightened his body, his eyes lighting up with the urgency of information. "I managed to overhear his conversation with Karl this afternoon in the club room. And I saw scribbles on his strategy board before he erased them."
"Please tell everything."
"He knows, Arin," whispered Tom, his voice full of horror. "Vesper knows about your heart."
My eyes narrowed sharply. "Please explain."
"He calls it 'Machine Weakness'. He told Karl that you have high burst damage, but your energy consumption is unnatural. He analyzed your fight with Gordon second by second. He said you need three times more oxygen than a normal human to cool your body when Aura mode is active."
I fell silent. That analysis... was accurate. Truly terrifying. Vesper was not just a treasurer good at counting money; he was a genius combat analyst.
"So? What is the plan?" I baited.
"His strategy for the Midterm Exam in Dungeon Sector 9 later is not ambush or physical duel," continued Tom quickly. "His strategy is Hypoxic Attrition."
"Hypoxia..." I muttered. That meant lack of oxygen.
"Vesper plans to close the natural ventilation inside that mine dungeon," explained Tom, his hands miming closing a hole. "He will lengthen the route, lure you running in circles, and maybe use smoke magic or methane gas to thin the oxygen levels in the air. Vesper does not intend to defeat you with a sword. He wants you to faint from running out of breath yourself."
I leaned against the table, crossing my arms. The puzzle pieces were complete.
That was why the assassin in the swamp earlier didn't kill me instantly when I was off guard. He was gathering data on my stamina and how fast I ran out of breath.
"Makes sense," I said calmly, though my brain spun fast looking for a solution. "Very fitting with Vesper's personality. He dislikes risk. Vesper prefers watching his enemy die slowly and surely rather than betting on a single attack that might miss."
"Arin, this is critical!" exclaimed Tom in panic, squeezing his knees. "Dungeon Sector 9 is a deep former mine. The air is already naturally thin. If he closes the ventilation... you will suffocate in ten minutes if you use Piston Heart! You will die strangled!"
"I know, Tom. Calm down!"
"How can I be calm?! We do not have the route map! We do not know which ventilation he will close! This is a death trap!"
I walked closer to Tom, placing a hand on his trembling shoulder to calm him.
"You have done your task very well, Tom. This information is more valuable than any map. Because now, I know how he thinks."
"But..."
"Please go home," I cut in. "Do not make Vesper suspicious because you disappeared too long. Remain the sweet obedient boy in his eyes. Let him think his plan is safe and undetected."
Tom looked at me doubtfully, but finally, he nodded resignedly. He stood up, pulling his hood tight again covering his face.
"Be careful, Arin."
"I know. Thank you, Tom."
Tom sneaked out of the room, leaving me alone again in the suffocating silence.
I stared at my own rough hands.
Hypoxic Attrition.
Vesper wanted to kill the engine by cutting off its air supply. That was a brilliant and cruel strategy. Without enough oxygen, my Piston Heart would not be able to pump Aura. I would become a weak ordinary human in the middle of a monster den.
"Damn it..." I cursed softly.
BANG!
My room door slammed open again roughly.
This time there was no polite knock or secret code.
Erika stood in the doorway. Her breath was ragged, her face flushed red with exploding anger. She was still wearing a dirty training uniform and there was a sauce stain at the corner of her lips, probably lunch residue she hadn't cleaned yet.
She must have heard the news.
"Who?!" shouted Erika bluntly. She stepped in, slamming the door behind her with her heel until it shook. "Tell me who the bastard is that sent that assassin?! Rose said you were attacked in the swamp! Why didn't you tell me?! What do you take me for?!"
Her blue eyes were glassy, not from sadness, but from frustration and worry mixed together. Her magic staff was gripped tightly in her right hand, the tip sparking small sparks indicating her emotions were unstable.
"I will blow them up! Say the name, Arin! I will make him my Mana Cannon practice target tonight! I will burn him to ash!"
I sighed, raising a hand to calm her. "Erika, save your fire. Being angry now won't change the fact that I am still alive and whole."
"But you are hurt!" Erika pointed at the bandage on my neck peeking from behind the collar. She approached aggressively, checking my face roughly yet anxiously. "Look at this! You are pale! You should be in the hospital, not here playing detective!"
"I am fine, Erika." I said gently, holding her shoulders to stop her shaking. "Sit down first. You are making me dizzy with your shouting."
Erika stomped her foot in annoyance; my wooden floor creaked in protest. But she obeyed. Erika sat on the chair Tom had occupied earlier roughly, crossing her arms, her lips pouting like a child whose toy was broken.
"You are always like that. Keeping everything to yourself," she grumbled annoyed. "Am I your partner or not?"
"You are my partner, Erika. Precisely because of that I do not want you blowing up the dorm out of emotion and getting us expelled."
Erika snorted. She rummaged through her sling bag roughly, as if looking for a hand grenade. But what she took out was a greasy oil paper package.
"Here!" She threw the package onto the table in front of me. "Eat! I know you must have forgotten to eat because you were busy acting cool holding back pain."
The package opened slightly, revealing several boiled eggs still steaming hot. The aroma was delicious, but Erika stared at the eggs with a deadly gaze, as if the eggs were Vesper's head.
"I took them from the magic pot in the cafeteria earlier. Still hot though," she mumbled, still in a bad mood.
She took one egg, then began peeling its shell with rough and impatient finger movements. She tapped the egg on the table.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Damn it... why is the shell so hard to peel..." she grumbled, venting her annoyance on the innocent eggshell. "Even the egg is against me!"
"Slowly, Erika. That is still ho—"
POP!
The egg exploded in her hand.
Not a big explosion, but enough to make very hot egg white and yolk splatter onto Erika's face, clothes, and glasses.
Erika froze.
Her face, previously red from anger, was now covered in a layer of egg yolk dripping slowly from her sharp nose.
Silence.
Erika stared at her hand holding the remaining empty shell. Her lips trembled. Her eyes became glassy, this time truly about to cry from frustration.
"WHY?!" she shouted in frustration at the room ceiling. "WHY IS EVEN FOOD HOSTILE TO ME TODAY?! I JUST WANTED TO PEEL IT! I HATE TODAY!"
She looked so pathetic and funny at the same time. But I did not laugh.
My eyes were fixed on the remaining eggshell in Erika's hand and the hot steam escaping from it.
My brain, which had been stuck thinking about the oxygen and Vesper problem, suddenly jolted. A neural connection connected strongly.
"That egg..." I mumbled, my eyes not leaving the steam.
"What?! You want to mock me?!" snapped Erika while wiping her face with her sleeve, almost crying. "I know I am clumsy!"
"No," I stood up slowly, approaching the table. I picked up a fragment of the eggshell.
"Why did this egg explode, Erika?" I asked, my voice changing to a cold analytical tone.
"Because I am unlucky! And because it is hot!"
"Correct. Hot," I muttered. "This egg just came out of a high-pressure magic pot. The temperature inside is far higher than the boiling point of ordinary water. The internal pressure is immense."
I turned the shell in my fingers.
"When you cracked the shell... you damaged the integrity of the container. High pressure inside met low pressure outside suddenly. That pressure difference forced the contents out with an explosion."
My eyes widened.
Vesper wanted to cut off the oxygen supply from outside. He wanted to make me suffocate by thinning the air in the Dungeon.
But what if I didn't take air from outside?
What if I carried my own pressure?
"If the container is strong... the pressure inside can be stored," I mumbled quickly, my brain racing. "And if I can trigger the release of that pressure controllably inside my body... I do not need lungs to suck air."
A wide grin slowly carved on my face.
"Genius..." I whispered. "Vesper, you lose."
Erika looked at me in confusion, egg yolk still sticking to her cheek. "Arin? What is wrong with you? You are scary when you smile like that. Are you possessed?"
I snatched Erika's dirty hand, shaking it hard.
"Thank you, Erika! You are a genius! Your egg is a genius!"
"Huh?" Erika gaped. "What do you mean? I just exploded your lunch! Are you hungry to the point of madness?"
"You just gave me the key to victory!"
I released her hand, then snatched a notebook and pen from the table. I didn't have time to explain. This inspiration had to be poured into chemical formulas immediately before it evaporated.
"I have to go to the laboratory now!" I exclaimed, grabbing my coat.
"Now?! But you haven't eaten! And look at my face!" protested Erika while pointing at her egg face.
"Food later! Clean your face in the sink! Lock the door if you want to go home! I might not return until morning!"
Without waiting for an answer, I ran out of the room, leaving Erika still sitting dazed with an egg-smeared face in the middle of the messy room.
"He... he thanked an egg?" mumbled Erika to the empty room, then snorted in annoyance. "Crazy. Just watch out if he starves to death. I will haunt him."
Outside, the dormitory hallway felt cold, but my blood boiled hot.
Vesper wanted to play with breath? Fine. I would show him what true high pressure meant. I would turn my body into a walking bomb that didn't need outside air to explode.
I ran toward my private laboratory in the back warehouse. Tonight would be a long night. And tomorrow, at the meeting with Elena, I would bring the blueprint of death for Vesper.