Chapter 35: Winds of Change

  The road stretched long behind them, dust rising in thin clouds beneath their boots. The remnants of battle still clung to their weary bodies—not just in bruises and aches, but in the weight of everything they had endured.

  The dungeon had taken its toll.

  Marcus could still hear the clash of steel, the roar of collapsing stone, the desperate final moments before their escape. He had fought enemies beyond his understanding, broken through limitations he hadn’t known existed. And yet, the true weight of it all wasn’t just the exhaustion in his limbs.

  It was the lingering ghost of choices made. Of lives changed.

  When they finally reached The Iron Hearth, Marcus expected little more than a warm meal and a bed. He had barely spoken a word on the road, letting Ragn and Boruk debate the safest path home while Vira walked in contemplative silence. He assumed the inn would be just another stop along the way.

  He was wrong.

  The moment they stepped inside, the air shifted.

  Gasps. Murmurs. Excited whispers spread like wildfire.

  It took Marcus a second to realize why.

  Boruk and Ragn had Steel-ranked adventurer plates hanging from their belts, and Steel ranks weren’t common. Even Marcus and Vira, both Iron-ranked, drew attention. Eyes flickered toward them—curious, admiring, even awed.

  Marcus barely had time to process the change before the innkeeper barreled toward them.

  She was a grizzled woman, broad-shouldered, arms like tree trunks. She had the build of a retired warrior and the presence of someone who took no nonsense from anyone.

  By the gods, she was already beaming.

  "By the gods, welcome!" she boomed. "You lot have the look of warriors fresh from the front! Sit—no, no, don't reach for your coin, it’d be a crime to charge you!"

  Marcus barely had time to react before plates of steaming food were slammed onto the table.

  Roasted meat, thick stew, bread fresh from the oven. A mug of something strong was shoved into his hands before he could even think to refuse it.

  The other patrons weren’t much better. A group of younger adventurers, barely Bronze-ranked, had gathered near their table, whispering among themselves, eyes wide with pure admiration.

  "This is…" Marcus hesitated, glancing at Vira, who looked just as thrown off as he felt.

  Boruk, however, took it all in stride. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, looking completely at ease. Ragn had already raised his drink in a toast to their unexpected welcome.

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  Marcus’ fingers curled around the mug. This wasn’t normal—not for him.

  Back home, he'd been just another guy. A hopeful competitor trying to make something of himself. If he had gone pro, if he had made a name for himself…

  Would it have felt like this?

  Would his past life have ever treated him this way?

  The thought sat heavy in his chest, but for the first time, he didn’t push it away. Instead, he let it settle—let himself feel it.

  Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

  The bathhouse was quiet, steam curling in the air, the warmth sinking deep into battle-worn muscles.

  Marcus exhaled slowly, letting the heat soothe the lingering aches. It was a rare moment of stillness, and he let himself enjoy it.

  Boruk, however, remained stiff.

  His arms were crossed, his tusked mouth pressed into a firm line. Crimson eyes stared blankly at the water, unseeing.

  Ragn was the first to notice. He nudged the orc with an elbow. "You’re brooding. You never brood."

  Boruk exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "We lost the dungeon’s spoils because of me."

  Marcus sat up. "Boruk—"

  "I fell." His voice was quiet but heavy. "A warrior stands. A warrior protects. A mentor…" His gaze flicked to Marcus. "A mentor does not let his student bear the weight of his failure."

  Silence settled between them.

  This wasn’t just about loot.

  Boruk’s Steel rank wasn’t just a title—it was a measure of his worth, his strength. And now, he was questioning if he even deserved it.

  Ragn, for once, didn’t crack a joke.

  Instead, he reached into his inventory, pulling out a softly glowing crystal. The moment it caught the light, the air shifted. Cool energy radiated outward.

  The Water Elemental Core.

  Boruk's eyes locked onto it.

  "We didn’t come away empty-handed," Ragn said, tossing it lightly. "We still gained something."

  Boruk caught the core, staring at it, fingers curling around the smooth surface. Slowly, something in his posture eased—not completely, but enough.

  Marcus smirked. "Besides, you dying was way more of a loss than loot. This thing?" He tapped the core. "Just a bonus."

  Boruk let out a low chuckle. "You are getting too good at this."

  "Surrounding myself with reckless people helps."

  Ragn grinned. "Next time, let’s stick to heroic charges, not suicidal ones, yeah?"

  Boruk huffed but nodded, the core still gripped in his hand.

  They weren’t whole yet.

  But they were getting there.

  Marcus knocked on Vira’s door. The Water Elemental Core still sat in his inventory, and he figured she’d want to know about it.

  But before he could speak—

  Thud.

  A muffled growl. A sharp crack of something hitting wood.

  Marcus didn’t hesitate. He shoved the door open.

  Vira stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths.

  The furniture had been shoved aside. Scorch marks marred the wooden floor. Stray embers flickered in the air before vanishing into nothing.

  Her eyes snapped to him, wide, wild—before recognition settled.

  "Marcus."

  He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "You want to tell me what’s going on, or should I guess?"

  Vira ran a hand through her hair, frustration bleeding into every movement. "I was useless in that dungeon."

  Marcus frowned. "Vira—"

  "I should be stronger. I should have control. But I don’t. And if I don’t…" She clenched her fists. "If I don’t leave—if I don’t go to an academy—then what am I even doing here?"

  Marcus studied her carefully. "But you don’t want to leave."

  She exhaled sharply, shoulders slumping. "No. I don’t."

  Silence stretched between them.

  Finally, Marcus spoke. "Then we’ll figure it out. Together."

  Vira met his gaze, searching for something in his expression. Whatever she found, it seemed to settle her.

  She let out a shaky breath. "Together."

  And then—

  A soft chime.

  Not from his notifications. Not from the system menu.

  A voice.

  "Marcus, are you there?"

  Marcus froze.

  The words hadn’t appeared in his interface. They hadn’t been a system prompt.

  They had been spoken.

  Vira noticed the shift. "Marcus?"

  He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

  The system had just spoken to him.

  Not in text. Not in mechanical notifications.

  In a voice.

  His throat went dry.

  "What the hell…?"