Bral then tried to clap his hands, but then he realized that he was missing an arm. He looked at his missing arm, blinked once, then cleared his throat. "So…" he said, trying to recover, "what are we going to do? The place looks like a disaster just walked through it... which I guess is not that far from the truth. I doubt there's anything left worth clearing out."
The dungeon was now mostly rubble and cracked walls. The ceiling had partially collapsed in several places. Smoke and mist still clung to the corners. It was silent now—no monsters, no weird abominations, nothing stirring beyond their group.
Bral glanced over at Amukelo, who stood in the center of it all, armor shredded, blood dried and flaked across his body, hair damp with sweat, his sword stained with the dark fluids.
"You look terrible," Bral said, not even trying to sugarcoat it. "Whether that glowing sword thing gave you power or not, you're done for now. Rest before you fall apart."
Amukelo exhaled slowly and nodded. "Yeah… I'll carry Pao out, and then—"
But before he could finish, his knees gave in. His legs buckled, and his vision tilted. He tried to catch himself, but the weight of exhaustion, of adrenaline fading, of everything he'd held back during that fight, came crashing down.
Idin caught Amukelo before he hit the ground. "Woah, no you won't," he said firmly. "You're not carrying anyone. Bao, take Pao. He's done."
Bao had already approached with soft steps and gently picked Pao up from where she had been resting on a patch of stable ground.
Idin slung Amukelo's arm over his shoulder, and together, the party started their slow walk back through the dungeon, the tension still thick but slowly dissipating.
As they walked, Bral lingered for a moment, looking back at the twisted, monstrous corpse lying in the heart of the ruin. Its body was cracked open where Amukelo's final slashes had torn it down. Its black blood had already begun to dry like tar on the stone.
"Ughh…" Bral muttered, scratching the side of his head. "What was that thing?"
Idin looked back at him. "Huh?"
"Nothing," Bral replied quickly. "Just talking to myself."
They made their way back to their camp. The sun had already begun to come down by the time they reached it. The wind was gentle, and the forest was quiet.
Amukelo didn't last long once he was laid down. The moment his body touched the mat, he was asleep, his chest rising and falling in long, slow breaths. There was no strength left in him, no vigilance, no alertness. Only exhaustion.
Bral, however, crouched nearby, staring at the rune-covered sword resting beside Amukelo. He didn't touch it—he just looked.
"If it really happened like he said," he muttered, "then what is that blade? No normal weapon gives someone that kind of power. And it only activated after she was hurt?" He glanced over at Pao. She was sleeping quietly, her chest rising and falling, her hair spread around her face like a halo.
Idin came up behind him and nodded. "We should research it once we're back in Llyn."
When Amukelo woke up, it was sudden and harsh. He shot upright with a gasp, his eyes wild, his body drenched in sweat.
"Pao!!" he shouted, chest heaving.
He blinked, trying to make sense of the sunlight, the tents, the fire still crackling. His gaze swept across the camp and found everyone already awake. Bral was boiling water in a pot. Idin was adjusting the bandages around his arm. Bao was sitting against a tree with her bow across her lap.
And Pao… she was sitting up against a bedroll, wrapped in a cloak, sipping quietly from a cup of tea. Her eyes met his, and she smiled warmly.
"Good morning," she said softly.
Amukelo scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain lancing through his muscles. He staggered over to her and knelt beside her. "Ughh… how do you feel? Are your mana reserves okay? Do you feel cold? Dizzy? Weak?"
Pao tilted her head at him, smiling through the weariness in her eyes. "What…?" she blinked. "Oh… right. My mana." She set the cup down on her lap. "I don't know yet. I blacked out because of it, so it hasn't fully recovered. I can feel that I'm a little weaker than usual… but it's not too bad."
Amukelo's face sank with concern. "So it did drain you. You shouldn't have pushed that hard. That corruption—whatever it was—it could've… it could've…" He trailed off, his voice caught between frustration and guilt.
But Pao reached out and placed her hand gently over his. "Hey… don't worry," she said with a soft, tired smile. "It's nothing. Give me a week, and I'll be back to full power."
When they got back to Llyn, it was a strange feeling—walking through the crowd, their gear battered and scarred, every limb sore, some wounds still fresh—while everyone else smiled and lived in ignorance.
When they finally stepped into the Adventurer Association, the atmosphere inside was its usual blend of chatter, clinking mugs, the scratching of pens on parchment, and the odd laugh from someone recounting a tale that probably never happened.
The woman behind the counter, with tied-back auburn hair and a tired but pleasant look, raised her eyes and gave them a polite nod.
Bral stepped forward awkwardly, "Ughh…"
"I'm not really sure whether the quest is counted as finished," Bral admitted. "We had… an incident."
The woman blinked, eyeing the dust on their boots and the deep tear across Amukelo's chest plate, the dried blood still staining parts of Pao's robes. "Things like this happen," she said simply. "I can't tell you. The system will decide."
She took the parchment from them and disappeared into the backroom. The group stood in awkward silence, shifting their weight, exchanging tired glances. Amukelo leaned on the counter with both forearms, head lowered. Pao was quiet, swaying slightly where she stood, still clearly recovering. Bao stood behind her with her arms crossed, and Idin was spinning his ring slowly on one finger. Bral just sighed and looked at the ceiling.
Then the door creaked open again, and the woman returned—but her entire demeanor had changed. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly, and she held the parchment as if it were fragile glass.
"After it got checked again," she said slowly, looking directly at them, "it's been categorized as a Gold Rank One quest… and it's marked as finished."
Everyone just stared.
Bral blinked. "...Gold Rank One?" He looked to the others as if he had misheard, and then his expression turned to horror. He turned toward Amukelo and Pao, pointing at them with disbelief. "What did you two face in there!?"
Amukelo, who had just lifted his head from his arms, rubbed the back of his neck. "Ughh… I mean, you saw it," he said, voice raspy.
"But was it really that powerful?" Bral pressed.
Amukelo looked off to the side. "Yeah… even when I struck it clean… it barely grazed it."
The woman behind the counter looked at them with a mixture of amazement and concern. "It's a miracle you completed it," she said. "But—if I were you—I'd check your ranks. The system may have adjusted them."
That got everyone's attention.
Pao blinked and pulled her adventurer badge from her belt. Her tired eyes widened. "Whoa… I'm Silver Rank Seven now…"
"What!?" Bral yanked his badge from his coat. He stared at it. "Still Silver Rank Six." He paused, visibly annoyed. "Of course, didn't leveled up."
Bao checked hers. "Same. Silver Six."
"Didn't level up as well," Idin said, pocketing his badge again. "Silver Five."
Bral pointed at all of them with a dramatic scoff. "Well, if that monster was the reason for this mess, then it makes sense. We didn't even touch it. It was all them."
Idin nodded. "Yeah… But what about you, Amukelo?" He raised an eyebrow. "Supposedly, you defeated it."
Amukelo pulled his badge, fumbled with it, still sluggish, and looked.
He blinked once. Then twice.
And said nothing.
"Amukelo?" Pao asked.
"Ughh…" he hesitated. "I mean… it was because of the sword…"
But his words faded as he just kept looking at the badge.
The group leaned in.
The lady behind the counter took a single step forward, trying to get a peek, then smiled politely as if she had seen the result anyway. "Weapons contribute to an adventurer's power," she said. "So it's only natural that powerful gear would enhance your rank."
Amukelo finally spoke. "It says… Golden Rank One."
A silence followed that. A thick, stunned silence that seemed to echo through the building.
And then Bral exploded. "NO WAY!"
The people nearby all turned their heads.
Murmurs started. Whispers, questions, expressions of shock. A few younger adventurers craned their necks to get a better look. One even stood on a bench. Someone in the corner audibly choked on their drink.
Bao turned to the lady at the counter with wide eyes. "Wait—if he's Gold Rank now, then what about the guild?"
Her hands went to her own guild badge, and she pulled it free. Her lips parted.
"We did it…" she whispered.
Bral immediately yanked out his guild badge. And there it was. The symbol of advancement, the color shift, the upgraded engraving.
Silver Rank Seven.
He stared for a beat. And then he raised his arms and shouted, "WE FREAKING DID IT!"
Amukelo, still leaning half-asleep on the counter, managed a soft smile. Pao leaned lightly against him, a tired but genuine warmth in her eyes.
"We really did," she said.
Bral was already spinning in place with exaggerated flair, waving the badge above his head. "Drinks tonight! And no budget limits! Bao, you're paying!"
"What!?"
"You heard me!"
Idin laughed, finally relaxing, arms crossed. "Not bad for a supposedly dead party that got stuck under a collapsing dungeon."
Bao shook her head and said under her breath, "God help us all when Bral starts planning celebrations."
Amukelo looked down at his badge, still stunned. Golden Rank One. He had no idea what that meant for his future—but right now, with the people he cared about safe, and a fight behind them that they had somehow survived…
It felt right.
He slid the badge back into his pocket and looked at the others.