Chapter 65

The man did not introduce himself immediately.
It took time—small conversations, shared paths, quiet observations—before he finally spoke his name, almost casually, as if it held no weight.
“Rohas.”
That was all.
No title. No rank. No history.
Aerin repeated it with a grin. “Rohas… sounds strong.”
Mira tilted her head, still studying him with that familiar suspicion that had softened but never disappeared. “That’s it? Just a name?”
Rohas gave a faint shrug. “Names are enough.”
Kael didn’t ask more.
She didn’t need to.
There was something about him that didn’t match the floor they were on. Not just his strength, but the way he carried it—controlled, contained, almost deliberately hidden. He wasn’t reckless like climbers trying to prove themselves, nor cautious like those who feared the tower.
He simply moved… like he already knew.
And that alone told her enough.
He had been higher.
Much higher.
—
On the second day after he joined them, they crossed a narrow stretch of land where the ground dipped and rose unevenly, creating blind spots between stone ridges. The silence there felt unnatural, as if the floor itself was holding its breath.
Mira slowed down first. “I don’t like this place.”
Aerin nodded, adjusting his grip. “Yeah… too quiet.”
Kael didn’t respond, but her pace shifted slightly, more alert now.
It came from below.
Not ahead. Not behind.
Below.
The ground cracked open just enough for something to burst through—long limbs, thin but sharp, moving faster than expected. The creature didn’t roar or growl. It moved with intent, targeting the closest one.
Mira.
Aerin reacted instantly, stepping between them, his weapon meeting the creature mid-lunge. The impact pushed him back, his feet dragging across the ground.
“Fast!” he called out.
Mira moved to the side, trying to circle it, but the creature twisted unnaturally, its limbs bending at angles that didn’t make sense.
Kael stepped in, watching closely, her eyes narrowing. “It reacts to direction—don’t commit fully!”
Aerin adjusted, pulling back his next strike just before impact, forcing the creature to overextend. Mira followed through from the side, her timing sharper now.
For a moment—
They had it.
Then it changed again.
Faster.
Sharper.
And just as it broke past Aerin’s guard, heading straight for Mira—
Rohas moved.
No warning.
No build-up.
Just a single step forward, and the creature stopped.
Not slowed.
Stopped.
Its body froze for a fraction of a second before collapsing, as if whatever held it together had simply been removed.
Silence followed.
Mira blinked. “…Okay, I didn’t like that.”
Aerin exhaled, lowering his weapon. “That was too close.”
Kael said nothing.
Her gaze lingered on Rohas for a second longer than necessary.
He had stepped in too precisely.
Too easily.
But she turned away before either of them could notice.
“Move,” she said quietly.
—
That night, the air felt heavier around their camp.
Not because of danger.
But because something had shifted.
Aerin, as always, broke it first. “You really saved us back there.”
Rohas sat near the fire, his posture relaxed. “You had it.”
Mira snorted lightly. “No, we didn’t.”
Aerin laughed. “We were close.”
“Close isn’t enough,” Rohas replied calmly.
Kael, sitting slightly apart, finally spoke. “It is. If they learn from it.”
Mira glanced between them, sensing something she couldn’t fully understand. “You two talk like this is normal.”
“It is,” Kael said.
But even she knew—
It wasn’t.
—
By the time they reached the test ground for the 28th floor, the difference was clear.
The air itself felt heavier.
Not physically.
But mentally.
The path ahead wasn’t straightforward. It twisted, not in direction, but in perception. Creatures appeared where they shouldn’t, disappeared when approached, and attacked from angles that didn’t align with their movement.
Aerin frowned after dodging another strike. “This is worse than before.”
Mira was already breathing heavier. “It’s not just fighting… it’s messing with my head.”
Kael moved carefully, her steps slower but deliberate. “Don’t rely on what you see. Watch what repeats.”
They fought.
And this time—
Rohas stayed back.
Mostly.
He watched.
Observed.
Let them struggle.
Aerin pushed forward despite the confusion, forcing himself to adapt. Mira hesitated at first, then adjusted, relying less on instinct and more on reaction.
Kael guided them when needed, but she didn’t take over.
And when things went too far—
When a strike came too close—
Rohas stepped in.
Just enough.
Never more.
The fight lasted longer than usual.
Harder than expected.
But they cleared it.
Barely.
Aerin dropped to sit on the ground, breathing heavily. “That was… not easy.”
Mira wiped her arm, her voice quieter than usual. “It felt like it didn’t want us to win.”
Kael didn’t respond.
Because for a moment—
She felt the same.
—
When they stepped onto the 28th floor, the air shifted again.
Calmer.
But not safer.
Kael stopped.
Then turned.
Her gaze settled on Rohas.
“I know you’re strong,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “But let us handle the fights.”
Mira stiffened slightly at that, her brows pulling together as if she wanted to say something—but she held back.
Rohas met Kael’s eyes for a moment, then gave a small nod. “As you wish.”
—
It didn’t change immediately.
When danger came too close, he still moved.
When a strike became lethal, he still stepped in.
More than once, Aerin found himself saved at the last second, Mira pulled out of situations she couldn’t escape alone.
And slowly—
They grew closer to him.
Trust came easier when someone stood between you and death.
But Kael watched it differently.
Measured it differently.
And when the floor was finally cleared, when the silence returned and the path forward opened, she spoke again.
“This isn’t helping,” she said, her tone steady but sharper than before.
Aerin looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?”
Kael’s gaze shifted briefly to Rohas, then back to them. “These fights… they’re yours. You need them.”
Mira frowned slightly, her earlier hesitation returning.
Kael continued, her voice low but clear. “If someone else keeps stepping in, you won’t learn where you fail. And if you don’t know that… you won’t survive when it actually matters.”
Silence settled between them.
Not heavy.
But real.
Rohas didn’t argue.
He didn’t defend himself.
He simply stood there, listening.
And for the first time since he joined—
The distance between them returned.