Raul woke up with pain all over his body.
Not sharp, not enough to make him jerk upright or even reach for a weapon. Just enough that every inhale felt like his chest was pushing against something solid.
He stayed still for a few seconds, eyes closed, letting the ache settle into something he could measure. It spread everywhere, arms, ribs, shoulder, thigh, but it was worst along his side, just under the ribs. A deep bruise, the kind that hurts every time the body remembers its existence.
When he finally opened his eyes, the ceiling above him wasn't familiar to him.
Hard wooden beams supported the roof; it was clean, too clean to be their hut.
He tried lifting his hand and hissed, breath stuttering when pain tugged at his chest. Bandages pulled tight around his arm. Around his ribs. His shoulder felt wrapped so thoroughly he wondered how they'd managed it without waking him.
"…Damn," he muttered.
Nothing cracked when he shifted. No sharp snap, no wrong movement, sending pain screaming through him. Whatever Rasir had done last night, he'd kept things controlled. Too controlled, considering what he could've done instead.
A voice came from his left.
"Morning, sleeping beauty."
Raul turned his head and immediately regretted it.
Victor sat on the bed beside his, back against the wall, legs stretched out. He looked like hell, bruising along his jaw, wrappings peeking from under his shirt, eyes shadowed with exhaustion, but he was upright. Alert. Calm enough to be chewing dried fruit like it was an ordinary morning.
Raul groaned. "How long was I out?"
"All night," Victor said. "You snore like an old woman."
"I do not snore."
Victor smirked. "You sure do."
Raul closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "Where are we?"
"Sir Rasir's place," Victor replied. "Apparently, he carried us back himself. Had his people patch us up. Arin said he looked irritated the whole time."
Raul let out a short breath that almost became a laugh. "Figures."
The door creaked open before he could say anything else.
Arin stepped inside.
Raul noticed the arm first.
Arin's right arm was wrapped from shoulder to wrist, the bandages pulled tight and supported by a sling tied across his chest. His posture was careful, like every movement had been tested. His face looked pale, not sickly, but drained.
But his eyes were clear.
"Oh," Arin said. "You're awake."
Raul stared at him for a second. "So?"
Arin raised an eyebrow. "So?"
"So did we win?"
Arin's mouth twitched, just barely. "Yeah. We did."
Raul leaned back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling again.
"…Huh."
The word came out softer than he expected.
A Captain rank.
Even holding back, Rasir's blows had carried weight. Not just strength, intent. Each strike had been placed where it would hurt, where it would end the fight if pushed a little further. Timing sharpened by years of battles Raul had never seen.
They hadn't beaten him.
But they hadn't folded either.
"A win's a win," Raul muttered, lifting his bandaged arm and studying it as if it belonged to someone else.
Victor chuckled. "You say that so casually."
Raul didn't answer. He didn't trust his voice to come out this casual.
It took them a while to get moving. Standing hurt, washing hurt, even tightening straps felt like work. Pain turned everything slow and deliberate, every action measured against what it would cost.
By the time they stepped outside, the sun was already high, warmth settling over the village without the harsh bite of midday heat.
Rasir was waiting near the entrance.
He sat with his spear resting beside him, posture relaxed but alert at the same time, like a battle-hardened warrior, prepared for every situation. When he saw them, his gaze lingered, sharp and assessing, before softening, just a fraction.
"Congratulations are in order," he said. "You boys did well."
Victor straightened instinctively. "Thank you, sir."
Raul followed with, "Thank you, sir Rasir."
Arin just nodded, knowing he went very easy on them.
Rasir's attention stayed on Victor longer than the others. "Especially you. You don't have a combat-focused talent, yet you held the line strongly. Your footing was solid. Your timing is better than I expected."
Victor blinked. For a moment, the words didn't seem to land. Then his shoulders loosened slightly.
"That… means a lot," he said, voice quieter than usual.
Rasir nodded once. "Don't let it go to your head, all of you. What you boys showed yesterday would get you killed if you grew complacent. But it's a foundation still."
Arin dipped his head. "We understand."
They didn't eat right away.
Instead, they went to Mina's place.
She opened the door almost immediately, like she'd been standing there waiting.
Raul noticed the difference before he could explain it.
Before, being near Mina had always carried a faint tension, like standing too close to a drawn bow. Nothing hostile. Just… restrained.
Now, it wasn't.
She stood there calmly, posture easy, eyes steady. Not distant or guarded, just present.
"You look better," Raul said before he could stop himself.
Mina tilted her head. "I do?"
Victor nodded. "Yeah. You do."
Arin didn't say anything. He already knew why.
Lord's Imprint isn't a seal. It didn't overwrite who someone was. What it did was quieter than that. It settled things.
Normally, using a talent needs understanding; everyone needs to learn it, understand its rules, like playing chess.
But Lord's Imprint made it so the rules are automatically injected into you, so you have total control and understanding of your own talent.
For Raul and Victor, the change had been subtle, cleaner reactions, fewer wasted movements, instincts lining up instead of fighting each other.
For Mina, it was everything.
Before, she'd always felt like she was holding something back, afraid of what would happen if she slipped. Now she wasn't holding it back.
"I can feel it clearly now," Mina said quietly. "What my talent is and what it isn't."
Arin just smiled softly at her, then he sat on the floor, "Man, I'm hungry."
"Yeah, same, I could eat a camel." Raul joked.
They sat and started eating.
Rasir joined them after a while, watching his daughter with an expression Raul couldn't quite place. Pride was there, sure. But there was something else beneath it. Relief, maybe. Or acceptance.
"So," Rasir said eventually. "What's next?"
Arin answered without hesitation. "We train. All of us, until we're ready. Our target is to reach Captain rank, at the very least. Then we cross the Scorched Pass."
Rasir considered him for a long moment, then nodded. "A good plan."
He turned to Mina. "You've always wanted to leave this place."
Her fingers tightened around her cup.
"As the village head, I can't," Rasir continued. "Not yet. These people rely on me. But you…" He exhaled slowly. "You, my child, deserve to see what's beyond this sand."
Mina's eyes softened.
"Father," she said, voice unsteady in a way none of them had ever heard before, "I promise. When I'm strong enough… I'll come back. I'll help everyone leave this place."
Rasir smiled, tired and genuine. "I'll be waiting for that day."
The rest of the day passed quietly.
No training. No planning. Just quality rest.
Raul complained loudly about his ribs. Victor pretended not to notice when Arin struggled with his sling. Mina listened more than she spoke, like usual, but when she smiled, it wasn't restrained anymore.
And for now, that was enough.