CHAPTER 168: THE PACT

The clearing hadn’t shifted, but the mood had.

Jin stood where the fight had ended, Muramasa quiet at his side. The bodies of the three beasts were gone now, faded to dust and petals. The forest remained still. Watching. Listening.

The spirit walked forward slowly, the soles of her bare feet brushing against the moss without sound. Her expression had softened—not warm, but less guarded. Like the tension she’d carried since her emergence had finally been given room to settle.

"You’ve proven your will," she said. "So I’ll offer what I promised."

She stopped a few steps away. The others stayed back, quiet, letting the moment play. Echo leaned against a tree, arms folded. Joon crouched near a stump, chin resting on his hand. Seul stood with her arms crossed, eyes sharp as ever.

The spirit raised her hand.

"This won’t be a weapon," she said. "Or a title. Or something that can be traded for favor or fame."

Jin nodded once. "Good. I don’t want any of that."

She studied him. "Then hold still."

Her fingers hovered just in front of his chest. The space between them seemed to hum, not from magic, but from some shared understanding—the kind that didn’t need words.

The spirit’s eyes flickered once. "You planted the seed. Tended to it. Bled in the soil where it grew. That’s enough."

She touched his sternum with two fingers.

The temperature dropped—not cold, but rooted. Deep. Old. Something pressed against Jin’s skin, not as pain, but as weight.

Then the vines came.

They curled up from the ground, not aggressively, but with purpose. Thin tendrils of green and silver light wrapped once around each arm, trailed his shoulders, and circled his chest like a woven crest. They didn’t cut. They didn’t hold him. They simply marked him.

The spirit’s voice came softer now. "This is a pact. You’ll carry it as long as you walk with your own will. Break that, and it fades."

Jin didn’t flinch. "I won’t."

"Then it’s done."

The vines pulled back. The glow faded. The forest seemed to breathe again.

And the system finally responded.

[New Trait Acquired: Verdant Pact]

[Effect: Physical damage will not linger. Your body restores itself unless struck by forces harmful to nature.]

[Sub-Effect (Locked)]

[Warning: Damage from unnatural or destructive forces may bypass this effect.]

Jin blinked once. The words faded from his vision a moment later.

He exhaled, then rolled his shoulders once. Light. Easy. He didn’t feel stronger, exactly. Just... less breakable.

Aesteros shifted behind him, arms still crossed. His silence had stretched longer than usual. Jin glanced back over his shoulder.

"Not bad," he said. "Kind of makes you look stingy, though. You’ve been standing around all this time, and I’ve yet to see you hand out anything cool."

Echo snorted.

Aesteros didn’t smile. Of course he didn’t. He just looked at Jin with that unreadable calm. "You wouldn’t survive a gift from me."

"Harsh."

"It’s not insult," Aesteros said. "It’s fact. Not all powers are meant to be given."

The spirit turned slightly, eyebrow twitching. "Are you saying mine are?"

Aesteros didn’t turn. "No."

She stepped closer. "Because if that was some roundabout way of calling me weak, I suggest you finish the thought."

A faint pulse rolled through the earth—not large, but enough to make some of the younger trees rustle.

Joon shifted his weight slightly. "Uh. We’re not fighting again, right?"

Jin raised a hand. "No one’s fighting."

The spirit stared at Aesteros for a few more seconds, then looked away with a small shake of her head.

"He doesn’t know how to speak to another," she muttered.

"He’s made of rock," Echo added. "Comes with the territory."

Jin didn’t laugh, but the corners of his mouth shifted. Just a little. He turned back to the spirit. "That’s it, then?"

"There’s one more thing," she said.

She stepped forward again and brushed her hand along his forearm. A thread of green trailed from her fingertips, winding around his wrist before vanishing beneath the skin.

"You won’t be able to command it at first," she said. "But it’s there. When the moment calls for it, you’ll know."

Jin frowned. "Know what?"

"Growth," she replied. "Movement. The reach of vines. The hunger of roots. Nature listens to you now. It just doesn’t trust you yet."

"A second gift?"

"A seed," she said. "If you waste it, it won’t return."

Jin opened his interface, checking. Nothing visible. No skill icon. Just the earlier notice. The second part was buried.

"I’ll figure it out."

"I’m sure," she said.

He looked down at his hand, flexed his fingers once. The warmth he’d felt earlier still lingered. It didn’t burn—it pulsed. Like something quiet and old was sitting just beneath his skin.

His mind drifted.

Not back to the forest. Not to the spirit or the fight.

But to Seo Jun-Ho.

That moment in the third trial. The strike that should’ve ended it. The way the wounds closed without resistance. How every clean hit felt like it dissolved the second after it landed.

Jin clenched his hand slowly.

This gift... it wasn’t the same. But it wasn’t far off, either.

He didn’t know how long it would take before someone tried to pierce through it. But he had a feeling that when they did, they’d already know how.

Seo certainly would.

And he wasn’t done.

Jin pushed the thought aside. Not now. One thing at a time.

He turned back to the group. "Let’s head back. We’ve got a base to run, and I want a real test before I trust this thing to save me in a fight."

Seul nodded. "We can use the recruits."

Echo grinned. "Byung-ho’s been waiting for an excuse to throw a punch at you anyway."

Jin sighed. "Of course he has."

Behind him, the spirit gave a small tilt of her head. "We’ll stay close. The forest has grown more aware. That awareness needs direction."

Aesteros nodded, arms still folded. "I’ll walk the border with her. If anything foreign presses inward, we’ll know before it reaches your gates."

Jin turned to them. "Thank you."

"You’re welcome," the spirit said, voice neutral. "But it’s not for you. It’s for the seed."

Jin didn’t argue.

They moved together, stepping beyond the edge of the clearing. Their silhouettes faded quickly between bark and leaf, swallowed by the forest like they belonged to it. A faint shimmer pulsed along the spirit’s back—roots or hair, he wasn’t sure. Aesteros didn’t even glance back.

Then they were gone.

Jin turned toward the others. "Alright. Let’s get this over with."

Byung-ho was already near the edge of the training field, rolling his shoulders, eyes alight with open, unhidden glee.

"You serious?" he asked, cracking his neck. "I get to hit you for real?"

"Don’t enjoy it too much."

"No promises."

Seul was off to the side, arms crossed. Joon leaned lazily against a tree, but his spheres hovered around him in quiet orbit. Echo stood between two younger recruits, muttering something about insurance claims.

Jin stepped into the center of the clearing and motioned Byung-ho forward. "One clean hit. Center mass. Hold nothing back."

Byung-ho’s eyes gleamed. "You sure?"

Jin nodded. "Let’s find out what this thing actually does."

Byung-ho grinned and squared his stance. His muscles tensed—thick cords of power coiled under his skin, visible even beneath his shirt.

Seul called out, "Try not to hurt him too much"

Byung-ho gave a thumbs-up, though his focus never left Jin.

Jin took a breath, then dropped his guard entirely. He didn’t channel aura. Didn’t tense his stance. He just stood.

"Whenever you’re ready."

Byung-ho’s fist cocked back.

Then launched forward.

The sound hit first—like a cannon firing from too close. His punch landed square in Jin’s chest, right below the sternum.

There was a split-second of silence.

Then Jin flew.

His body lifted clean off the ground, blasted backward through the air like a ragdoll. He hit a tree ten meters away with a solid crack. The trunk split down the middle. The top half leaned, then collapsed with a heavy crash, throwing up a cloud of dust and bark.

Everyone flinched.

"Holy—" Echo cut himself off.

Seul’s arms dropped to her sides. "Okay. That was far too much."

Joon whistled low. "He’s alive, right?"

For a moment, nothing moved.

Then Jin coughed. Once. Loud.

From the pile of debris, a hand emerged.

He sat up slowly, bits of leaf and splintered wood falling from his shoulders. His jacket was torn, shirt cracked at the center from the force of impact, but beneath it—skin. Unbroken. No bruising.

No bleeding.

Byung-ho stared. "I hit you with everything. That should’ve cracked your ribs. Hell, my arm hurts."

Jin stood, rubbing his shoulder. He looked slightly winded, but otherwise intact. "It did crack something. But it didn’t last."

Seul stepped forward, peering at him. "You’re not faking that?"

He shook his head. "Pain’s real. The damage just doesn’t stay."

"Not bad," Joon said, walking forward with his hands in his pockets. "Alright. My turn."

Jin raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Trees are good insulators, right?" Joon smirked. His spheres floated beside him, crackling lightly with blue light. "Let’s see how nature holds up against electricity."

Jin returned to the clearing, brushing dust from his pants. "Just... don’t go overboard. We don’t know the limit yet."

Joon rolled his neck, letting two of the magnetron spheres drift ahead. "Yeah, yeah. Light roast only."

"Joon."

"Got it."

The spheres glowed brighter, electricity sparking between them. The air buzzed faintly. Jin could already feel his hair shift from the static pressure.

"Any specific place you want me to hit?" Joon asked.

"Wherever feels like a good test."

Joon didn’t hesitate. "Arc Link."

The spheres surged forward. Blue light snapped between them, striking across Jin’s torso like a bolt drawn directly from the sky.

The impact was instant. His body jerked backward, his foot dragging against the soil—but he didn’t fall.

He gritted his teeth. The strike hit hard—not just skin-deep, but inside. His nerves lit up for a second. Then dulled.

He stayed upright.

The pain faded.

His skin, where the lightning had hit, smoked lightly. But there were no burns. No damage he could feel.

Joon’s spheres retreated to hover at his side again. "Well?"

Jin rolled his shoulder. "Hurts worse than the punch."

"But?"

"No lasting damage."

Seul exhaled, then looked toward the tree stump where Byung-ho still stood. "I think he’s officially the best training dummy we’ve got."

Byung-ho raised his hand. "I object to that. Strongly."

Echo stepped closer. "Okay, so let me get this straight—pure physical force gets reset. Elemental stuff probably does too. What about other skill types?"

Jin shook his head. "No clue. And I’d rather not find out the hard way."

Joon frowned, arms crossed. "The spirit said ’things that harm nature,’ right? I’m betting system interference, corruption, maybe even some fire types could slip through."

Echo nodded. "Still. It’s not just a defense. It’s a statement. You’re harder to kill than ever."

Jin didn’t say anything.

He just looked down at his hand again. The skin was smooth. Clear. But it didn’t feel invincible.

Just different.

Like something else was watching over him now.