Chapter 3 – Terms and Conditions May Apply
The forest didn't feel as terrifying with someone else breathing next to him.
Well—someone else who could probably solo a mid-tier anime arc with just her fists.
Cyrus stirred awake to the early blue haze of morning. The tree root had taken revenge on his spine, and something wet had soaked through his sleeve during the night. Maybe dew. Maybe forest goo. He didn't want to know.
He groaned. "This world needs more mattresses."
Beside him, Yura was already awake. Sitting cross-legged. Still as stone. Breathing slow and steady, like she had been born in a temple rather than a battlefield.
Her sword lay across her lap, and her eyes were closed—but Cyrus had the distinct impression that she was more aware of her surroundings than he was, even half-asleep.
"You snore," she said without opening her eyes.
He blinked. "That's the first thing you say to me in the morning? I saved your life, remember?"
"You shared moldy bread," she replied flatly.
"…Heroism is relative."
Cyrus stretched his arms, wincing at the soreness in his joints. "Do you monks always sleep in trees or is that just a 'you' thing?"
"I'm not a monk," she muttered.
"Oh? Let me guess… prodigy from a secret clan, ran away because of internal conflict, now being hunted down by people with very strong opinions on honor?"
Yura's eyes opened slowly. She stared at him.
"...Did you guess that?"
"Call it genre awareness," he said with a wink. "Also, I saw one of them last night. They had matching armbands and didn't look like your average tree-bandits."
She sighed. "They're from the Jade Serpent Pavilion. My clan."
"So I nailed it."
Yura didn't answer. Her face remained unreadable, but something in her shoulders stiffened.
"I'm not running because I'm weak," she said quietly.
"I didn't think you were," he replied honestly. "If anything, they should be running from you."
She glanced at him, and something flickered across her face. Amusement? Gratitude? Maybe both.
"I just don't want to hurt them," she added after a beat.
Cyrus leaned back and whistled. "Ah. You're too strong. Got it. Classic overpowered wanderer problem."
He rummaged through his satchel and pulled out the last chunk of stale bread. "Breakfast?"
She actually cracked a smile this time. "Pass."
Their light banter died down as the morning wind rustled through the leaves.
Cyrus tilted his head toward her. "So what's the plan?"
"I need to keep moving," she said. "Avoid their patrols. Maybe head east."
"East is good," Cyrus nodded. "East sounds like fewer people trying to stab you."
He paused, then added, "Mind if I tag along for a bit?"
Yura gave him a look.
He shrugged. "I've got nowhere to be. No skills. No map. And apparently, a face that screams 'punch me.' So… I figure if I stick near someone who can punch back, my chances of dying go down."
She stared at him for a long second.
"Fine," she said. "But don't slow me down."
"No promises," he said brightly. "I specialize in dramatic delays and witty commentary."
As they started walking, the air felt heavier—like the forest knew something was shifting.
They moved carefully through the trees. Yura kept a practiced pace, eyes scanning, while Cyrus stumbled a bit behind her, doing his best to not trip over every root in sight.
After a while, he spoke up again.
"So… you're obviously stronger than me."
Yura didn't answer.
"I mean, obviously," he continued. "So I was wondering—what's your training routine like? Do I have to do the whole 'lift rocks in the rain while screaming about vengeance' thing, or is there a shortcut for people with average bone density and no combat background?"
Yura gave him a sidelong glance. "You want to get stronger?"
Cyrus nodded. "Yeah. I've got this weird system that expects me to do big things. And right now, the only thing I can do well is not die."
She stopped walking.
Then, surprisingly, she said, "I'll think about it."
Cyrus blinked. "Wait. That's not a 'no'?"
"No," she said. "But you'll have to keep up."
He grinned. "I'm great at pretending I know what I'm doing."
She rolled her eyes, but this time, it was lighter. Less guarded.
The two continued on, deeper into the forest. Neither of them knew what waited ahead—but for now, they moved as a pair.
Not allies.
Not friends.
Just two strangers walking in the same direction.