The subterranean passage was a labyrinth of carved stone descending diagonally into the bowels of the mountain range.
As they left the ancestral chamber behind, the echoing groans of the Third Division faded away, replaced by the steady dripping of filtered water and the murmur of an underground breeze.
Haruto maintained a thread of blue mana floating a few meters ahead of them, serving as a magical lantern that illuminated the path without betraying their presence with smoke or fire.
Aoi walked beside him, having rewrapped her greatsword in the burlap cloth.
Though her stride remained firm, Haruto noticed her breathing growing slightly heavier and how she subtly clenched her jaw to hide her exhaustion.
“Using the Ancient Way consumes less mana, but the density with which you compress your soul demands immense physical stamina,” Haruto said in Japanese, stopping beside a small alcove in the stone wall.
“Let’s rest for five minutes.” Aoi didn’t protest this time.
She let her back slide down the smooth rock wall until she was sitting on the icy stone floor.
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes for a few seconds.
“Fighting a Commander was no small feat,” she murmured, cracking one eye open to look at him.
“Your strike to his hilt was absurdly precise.
If you’d missed by a single millimeter, his holy fire would have caught you head-on.” “I wasn’t going to miss,” Haruto replied with complete serenity as he knelt beside her, handing her a clean cloth dampened with water to wipe the mud and soot from her face.
“I analyzed the crystal’s frequency from the moment he raised his sword.
It had a three-millisecond delay in flame stabilization.
It was an open breach.” Aoi took the cloth, but instead of wiping her face right away, she stared at the bluish runic marks now tracing the back of Haruto’s hand.
Then she looked at her own arm, where the crimson patterns seemed to pulse softly beneath her skin, in perfect sync with her heart.
“We aren’t normal humans anymore, are we?” Aoi asked softly.
For a brief instant, the relentless warrior gave way to the seventeen-year-old girl who missed her everyday life.
“This world’s System no longer recognizes us, and we don’t belong to Earth anymore either.” Haruto sat beside her, leaning his back against the same rock and letting their shoulders brush lightly.
He looked at the runes on his hand, then turned his eyes to her.
“Maybe not,” he admitted.
“But we don’t need to belong to a world or be trapped in its system to know who we are.
As long as we control our own strength, it doesn’t matter where we are.” Aoi let out a small laugh and rested her head on Haruto’s shoulder, letting the weight of her fatigue rest on him for the first time all day.
“You always have a logical answer for everything, analyst.” “It’s the only way to make sure we both walk out of this alive,” Haruto said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to shield her from the tunnel’s chill.
“We’ll become immortal, Aoi.
Not out of greed or to rule anything, but so that no one can ever tell us when or how we have to die.” Aoi closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of his embrace amid the shadows.
“Alright.
But when we’re immortal, you owe me real-world ice cream.” “Deal,” Haruto smiled.
After a few minutes of restoring silence, the blue light of Haruto’s mana flickered slightly as it detected a draft of fresh air coming from the end of the passage.
“The tunnel ends up ahead,” Haruto said softly.
“It leads out to the other side of the mountain range, toward the Free Lands of the South.” Aoi sat up, her eyes opening with a renewed spark of resolve.
She stood up nimbly and extended her hand to help Haruto to his feet.
“Good.
Let’s go see what the rest of this world has prepared for us.”