Varik surged forward, his blade gleaming. He didn't swing wild, no wasted motion. Just one perfect thrust aimed for the crack Lucen's lance had opened.

The guardian twisted. The blade only grazed. Sparks flew, the monster howling as it staggered back.

"Lucen," Varik said, his tone flat, deliberate.

Lucen understood instantly. "'On it.'"

He crouched, palms slamming against the swamp. Mana pulsed outward in jagged lines, the water hissing as it boiled. Chains of light erupted from the ground, wrapping around the guardian's legs.

It struggled, its colossal form straining against the bindings, but the chains held, crackling, reforging themselves as quickly as the monster could tear them apart.

Varik moved in that same moment. He launched upward with a single step, faster than human eyes could track, his blade a streak of silver against the false crimson sky.

He cut.

The sound wasn't steel on flesh. It was steel splitting worlds. The guardian's shoulder shattered, one entire scythe-arm severed in a rain of sparks and crystal.

It screamed again, staggering, half-blind with fury.

Lucen pushed himself upright, grin sharp. "'Now you're fun.'"

He gathered mana in both hands this time, reckless, dangerous, the air around him warping with heat and light. The swamp water frothed at his feet, his hood thrown back by the sheer force of the glow.

The hunters stared, wide-eyed.

"That's impossible. That's not— that's not—"

"Shut up!" the silver-haired woman snapped, though even her voice shook. Her eyes never left Lucen.

The guardian lunged for him, its remaining arm raised to split him in half.

Lucen laughed.

He hurled the spell.

A beam of light erupted, thick as a tree trunk, slamming straight into the monster's torso. It punched clean through, the swamp erupting in steam where it struck. The guardian reeled, its body cracking like a statue left in the frost.

Varik didn't waste the opening. He landed behind the beast, his blade already sheathed.

The hunters blinked.

"…Did he—"

The guardian froze.

A perfect cut split its body from crown to core. For a breath, it stood there, trembling, red light leaking through the fracture.

Then it collapsed, shattering into a thousand fragments of glass and light that dissolved into the swamp air.

Silence.

The hunters stood in shock, their weapons still raised as if expecting another wave. Their breathing was ragged, uneven.

Lucen exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping, sweat slicking his brow. He wiped a streak of blood from his cheek and smirked. "'And that's what you call teamwork.'"

Varik stood beside him, calm as if he'd merely gone for a walk. His eyes swept the swamp, confirming the fight was done, then flicked toward Lucen.

"You burned too much mana."

Lucen raised a brow. "'And you didn't burn enough.'"

The corner of Varik's mouth twitched, not quite a smile.

Behind them, one of the hunters finally spoke, voice shaking. "…He's… he's not level twenty-eight. That's— that's a lie."

Lucen turned slowly, grin curling wider, eyes gleaming faintly in the fading light. "'You sure you want to ask questions you don't want the answers to?'"

The hunter paled, swallowing hard.

The silver-haired woman stepped forward, axe still dripping swamp water. Her eyes narrowed at Lucen, searching, suspicious. But she didn't press. Instead, she looked to Varik.

"…What the hell are you two?"

Varik's gaze was unreadable. His voice, when it came, was calm, final. "Hunters. Same as you."

And somehow, that was enough.

—

The swamp had gone quiet. Too quiet.

The false red sky above flickered once, then dimmed to a dull, starless black. Where the guardian had fallen, only shards of crystal remained, scattered across the wet earth like broken glass.

Lucen exhaled, rolling his neck until it popped. His gloves were scorched at the fingertips, smoke still curling faintly from them. "'That one almost made me sweat,'" he muttered, though the grin tugging at his mouth said the opposite.

The other hunters hadn't moved. They stood in a rough cluster a dozen paces away, weapons still raised though there was nothing left to fight. Their eyes weren't on the swamp. They were on Lucen.

One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a dented helmet hanging at his hip, finally broke the silence. "You—what the hell was that? No level twenty-eight should be able to throw light like that."

Lucen turned his head lazily, his expression somewhere between amused and bored. "'I eat my vegetables.'"

The man scowled. "Don't play dumb. I've seen level fifties who can't do what you just did."

Another voice cut in, higher, female. The silver-haired woman with the axe. She stepped forward, her boots sucking at the mud, her eyes locked on him like a hawk. "It wasn't just raw power. You shaped it. Controlled it. That's high-rank spellcraft. Where'd you learn it?"

Lucen's grin widened. "'Trade secret.'"

The axe-woman's jaw tightened. She took another step closer. "You're not level twenty-eight."

A faint shift of movement stopped her.

Varik.

He hadn't said a word since the guardian fell, but now his presence alone filled the swamp like a second weight in the air. He moved just enough to place himself half a step closer to Lucen, not even looking at the others. His voice came low, calm, and sharp enough to cut through the rising tension.

"Enough."

The effect was immediate. The helmeted man froze mid-step. The axe-woman's lips pressed into a line, her knuckles white around her weapon. None of them spoke, but their eyes kept darting toward Lucen, suspicion thick as fog.

Lucen tilted his head, gaze flicking to Varik. He almost laughed. 'Doesn't even need to raise his voice. Gods, I wish I had that kind of presence.'

But then the silence stretched. Too long. The hunters weren't dropping it. Not yet.

One of the younger ones, barely out of his teens, face still soft with youth, swallowed and spoke up, voice trembling. "M-Mr. Varik, sir… with respect, we need to report this. If someone's hiding their level, that's… that's dangerous."

Lucen arched a brow, eyes gleaming. "'Dangerous, huh? For who, exactly?'"

The boy flinched.

Varik's eyes shifted, pinning him in place. Not hostile. Just final. "You'll report the guardian. Nothing else."

The boy's lips parted, as if to argue. Then he saw Varik's gaze, and thought better of it. He nodded quickly, dropping his eyes to the mud.

Still, the tension didn't vanish. It simmered, unspoken. Lucen could feel it in their stares, the weight of unasked questions pressing down. He smirked, leaning into it. "'Don't look at me like that. You'll make me blush.'"

That broke the spell a little, a ripple of unease ran through the group. A few looked away. But the axe-woman didn't. She kept her eyes on him, sharp and unyielding.

"You're trouble," she said quietly. Not an accusation. A fact.

Lucen's grin curved sharper. "'You're not wrong.'"

Varik finally moved. He reached out, resting a hand lightly on Lucen's shoulder. Not forceful. Just enough. His voice came low, directed at him alone.

"Let's go."

Lucen glanced at him, then at the others. Suspicion still clung to the air like smoke. He could feel it, a dozen theories buzzing in their skulls, too dangerous to leave unchecked. Part of him wanted to poke at it, to see how far he could push before they snapped.

But Varik's grip, subtle as it was, kept him still.

"…Fine." He slipped his hands into his pockets, turning away. "'Guess playtime's over.'"

The two of them walked. Boots squelching in the mud, the air heavy and damp. Behind them, no one followed. No one dared.

—

The path back toward the core was quiet, save for the occasional drip of water from the crystalline trees. Lucen let the silence stretch a while before breaking it.

"Not gonna lie, I think they like me."

Varik didn't look at him. "They're afraid of you."

Lucen smirked. "'That's one way of saying it.'"

"They won't keep quiet forever."

Lucen tilted his head. "You think they'll run their mouths?"

Varik finally glanced at him, calm and unreadable as ever. "Curiosity makes people stupid. Fear makes them reckless. You gave them both."

Lucen chuckled, low and amused. "'What can I say? I'm a generous guy.'"

Varik didn't answer. But his hand lingered near the hilt of his blade as they walked, like he was already preparing for whichever option those hunters chose.

Lucen noticed. Of course he did. And it made him grin wider.

'He's already thinking two steps ahead. Gods, I love watching his brain work.'

—

They reached the dungeon's exit. The light warped, folding inward, and then the swamp was gone, replaced by the ruined husk of the hydro plant. Rusted steel. Damp concrete. The air smelled of iron and moss.

Lucen stretched, arms over his head. "Well. That was fun."

Varik didn't answer. He was staring at the far side of the hall.

The other hunters were already there.

Waiting.

Their faces were pale, sweat-streaked, eyes wide but stubborn. The axe-woman stood at the front, jaw set. She opened her mouth like she was about to speak—

Varik stepped forward.

And the words died in her throat.

He stopped only a few feet from her, close enough that she had to crane her neck up to meet his eyes. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't draw his blade. He just spoke, calm as a still lake.

"You will not speak of him."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

The helmeted man swallowed audibly. The boy stared at his boots. The axe-woman's throat worked, but no words came out.

Lucen watched, amused. 'Doesn't even need to threaten them. He just is the threat.'

Varik let the silence stretch, heavy as stone. Then, finally, he stepped back.

"Good."

He turned, already walking toward the exit.

Lucen followed, throwing the group one last grin over his shoulder. "'You heard the man. Secrets are sexy, don't ruin the mood.'"

The look on their faces, fear, frustration, the desperate urge to know, was almost enough to make him laugh. Almost.

But then the portal sealed behind them, cutting it all off.

And just like that, it was only the two of them again.