"Why didn't you tell me this, bitch?!"
The burned girl didn't flinch, didn't even bother to look at him with any real emotion. Her gaze remained steady, almost detached.
"This is known to every disciple, asshole," she said, her tone mocking now.
"It was a performance. To be seen. Really."
Samuel froze, the words hanging in the air like a punch to the gut.
A performance? He blinked a few times, his mind struggling to catch up. His entire frantic struggle—the desperation, the fear, the stabbing—reduced to nothing more than a pathetic display for the sake of her amusement.
He could feel his face heat up, the sting of humiliation creeping across his skin, more intense than anything he'd ever felt in battle. For a moment, he stood there, just blinking at her in disbelief.
"Y-you..." Samuel stammered, anger rising in his chest, but it quickly turned to self-loathing.
She cut him off with a glance, eyes sharp.
"Lyra," she said simply, her tone softening just enough to make it clear she was done with the whole conversation.
"My name is Lyra."
For a heartbeat, Samuel stood there, the anger fizzled out, leaving only an uncomfortable stillness between them.
"Lyra, huh?" Samuel murmured, his shoulders sagging. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to shake off the feeling of being outplayed.
"Well... Sam... Samuel," he said, finally introducing himself with an almost indifferent tone.
Lyra didn't react much, just a brief nod in acknowledgment.
Samuel hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his voice a bit too casual considering the circumstances.
"Umm, can you teach me that... please?" he asked, his words laced with the kind of shamelessness that only someone with a lot of nerve could muster after completely botching the situation earlier.
Lyra's eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into a faint smirk.
"How could you forget something that crucial?" she asked, her voice dripping with both curiosity and disbelief.
Samuel grimaced, feeling the sting of her words. The truth was, he didn't forget—it was more like his memories were still trapped in a foggy haze, fragments of another life slipping through his fingers like smoke. But admitting that? He wasn't about to.
So, he did what he did best: lie.
"Well," he started, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his voice,
"I,..uh, fell on my head pretty hard. You know, one of those... accidents."
He scratched the back of his head, trying to act casual, but the nervous energy was clear in his stiff movements.
"So yeah, my memories are kinda... foggy."
Silence.
Not the comfortable kind.
***
In the depths of the jungle, where the light barely pierced the thick canopy above, two figures could be seen weaving between gnarled roots and whispering leaves.
Samuel… and Lyra.
Their footsteps were quiet, cautious — not out of consideration for each other, but for the beasts that stalked the shadows. They didn't walk side by side, but not far apart either… like two wolves forced to share the same trail, not by choice, but by the weight of necessity.
For reasons even Samuel couldn't fully explain, they had agreed to travel together.
Temporary alliance. Nothing more.
Lyra had mentioned — in her usual cryptic, half-mocking tone — that she would give him "a few pointers" about controlling Abyssal energy. Nothing formal. Nothing binding. And certainly nothing that would make her his teacher.
Samuel didn't mind.
He hadn't asked for a master. He didn't want one.
Still, Samuel had accepted the offer.
A starving man couldn't be picky about the shape of the bread.
As they moved, the tension between them was almost physical — like a thin string stretched taut, threatening to snap with the wrong word. They didn't speak much. When they did, it was brief.
Cold.
They didn't trust each other. Not really.
But for now… their paths overlapped.
And in Pendora, that was as close to friendship as most people got.
As the silence between him and Lyra stretched like a blade yet to be drawn, Samuel lowered his gaze and walked a little slower, letting the sound of their boots against damp earth fill the gaps.
As they walked deeper into the jungle, roots clawing at their feet and shadows curling between the trees, Samuel fell a few steps behind.
Lyra didn't look back. She hadn't said a word in a while — which suited him just fine.
The silence let him think.
Or more accurately... summon.
[Rank 1 Relic : Moon Blade
"An elegant blade cutting through darkness and light. Once belonged to a beauty… but her fate was sealed the moment she encountered a treacherous bastard who betrayed her without a thought — and even shamelessly stole her sword."
Effect:Increases attack speed and strength under moonlight. ]
Samuel blinked.
Then, slowly… a small, amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Shamelessly stole, huh?" he murmured under his breath, just quiet enough that Lyra wouldn't hear. "Well. Can't argue with that."
He glanced at the curved blade now strapped across his back. Its dark metal glinted faintly even in the jungle gloom, as if soaking up what little light there was — patiently waiting for nightfall.
"Sorry, Senior Sister," he added, voice low and mockingly sincere. "But you really weren't using it anymore."
He could almost imagine the spirit of that beautiful, arrogant girl shrieking in fury somewhere in the afterlife.
And that made the sword feel even lighter in his hand.
Lyra suddenly stopped.
Without warning, like a beast catching scent, she froze mid-step. Her ears twitched — an animalistic, almost feral motion. Then, she turned her head slightly, eyes narrowing.
"…A storm's coming," she said.
Samuel blinked, then lifted his gaze.
The sky above was a perfect, glassy blue. Clear. Peaceful. Not a single damned cloud in sight.
He looked back at her, slowly.
His face spoke volumes — none of them kind.
The look of a man who'd just been told water was dry.
"…Really?" his expression said. "Are you stupid?"
Lyra cleared her throat.
"I, uh… I have a higher affinity with nature. So I can sense these things, alright? We need to move. Fast."
And just like that, she spun and took off into the underbrush, her cloak fluttering like a shadow behind her.
Samuel stared after her for a heartbeat.
Then sighed. Loudly. "Of course."
He didn't have a better plan anyway. So, with a muttered curse and one last glance at the still-perfect sky, he followed.
And just as his boots struck the damp earth —
the wind shifted.
The air changed. He could feel it — taste it.
The oppressive stillness that came just before chaos.
Leaves began to rustle. Far above, clouds were crawling in like silent beasts. The jungle's light dimmed, shadows stretching long and wide. The temperature dropped a little too fast.
Samuel frowned.
"…Huh. So she wasn't lying."
And then, more grimly:
"Which means we're in trouble."
They ran, feet pounding against the wet soil as the first distant rumble of thunder rolled through the canopy like a growl from the gods.
The forest groaned beneath the weight of the coming storm, wind howling through the twisted boughs like a warning cry from the wilds themselves.
Leaves tore loose and danced madly through the air, rain beginning to fall in slow, fat drops that struck Samuel's face like cold slaps.
The world around them grew darker by the second.
Samuel gritted his teeth. The girl was fast — too fast. He had to push himself just to keep her in sight as she weaved through gnarled roots and broken stone.
"Where the hell are we going?" he called out between breaths, his voice almost lost to the rising wind.
Lyra didn't slow.
"There's a hollow tree," she shouted back. "Big enough to crawl into. Should be close if we keep heading this direction!"
A hollow tree?
Samuel's brow furrowed.
How did she know that?
He was about to ask — the words were on his tongue — but he swallowed them back at the last second.
No. He had his secrets too.And asking about hers would only invite questions in return.
Instead, he focused on her steps, her movements. There was no hesitation in her path, no searching gaze — just certainty. She knew these woods, or rather... something within her did.
Samuel narrowed his eyes.
Exceptional nature affinity, huh?
It wasn't just some affinity. It was something more. Something strange. He could feel it, like a subtle shift in the air around her.
But now wasn't the time.
The rain intensified, coming down in sheets. Thunder split the sky behind them, and the forest erupted into motion — birds shrieking, beasts howling in the distance.
They had to move.
And so, without another word, Samuel followed the girl deeper into the heart of the storm.
The rain turned savage.
It came down in violent sheets, drenching the forest in seconds. Thunder rolled across the heavens like a beast howling in fury, and streaks of lightning split the sky, lighting up the twisted trees in flashes of pale blue.
Samuel ran — not out of pride or purpose, but pure survival.
Each crash of thunder felt like it struck closer. The wind tore at his cloak, branches whipped against his face, and mud clung to his boots with every desperate step.
Then he saw it.
A tree — massive, ancient, its blackened bark twisted with age and time. At its base, yawning wide like the mouth of some sleeping giant, was a hollow carved deep into its trunk.
Lyra didn't stop.
She moved like she had wings, leaping lightly onto a root and slipping inside without missing a step. Samuel followed a breath behind, stumbling slightly as he clambered into the hollow space.
They collapsed inside, panting.
For a moment, neither spoke. The only sound was their ragged breathing, and the roar of the storm just outside — wind shrieking like banshees, rain hammering the world beyond their fragile shelter.
The inside of the tree was dark, cramped, and smelled of moss and rot. But it was dry.
Safe. For now.
Samuel leaned back against the inner wall of the tree, chest heaving, eyes half-closed.
What kind of cursed place is this…
Beside him, Lyra pulled her knees to her chest, drops of rain still trailing down her pale cheek. Her face was unreadable, but even she seemed shaken.
Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to say.
Outside, the storm screamed.
And inside, the silence lingered — thick with breath, tension… and secrets.