Leon kept still, his breathing slow and even, the picture of unconsciousness. He had no idea Racheal had already changed into fresh clothes from her inventory; with his eyes closed, he couldn't risk a glance to confirm. All his sharpened senses told him was that she had stepped back into the room.

'This is so embarrassing,' he thought, jaw tight. 'If I so much as twitch, it'll look like I was peeking… I don't want to seem like some kind of pervert.'

He was still weighing whether to "wake up" now or later when a sharp rap echoed against the door.

Leon's body tensed instantly. His senses flared out, brushing against the familiar aura beyond the threshold. 'Adrian…?' What is he doing here?

Racheal's brows furrowed as she moved to the door. The moment it creaked open, her eyes widened.

"It's you." Her voice held a hint of surprise, even wariness.

Adrian stood there, equally startled to see her. For a beat he didn't answer, then finally managed, "Can I come in?"

Racheal hesitated only a moment before stepping aside. "Okay."

Adrian entered, and the lavish sight before him nearly pulled the words from his throat. His eyes swept the chandelier, the wide space, the silken bedding. 'This… this isn't a cell. Isn't she supposed to be a captive? It's like the Imperial Guard are hosting her instead.'

His thoughts scattered when Racheal spoke again, voice firm. "How did you get here?"

He shifted his gaze back to her, answering honestly. "I've been here for two days now. When I saw you being escorted by the lieutenant, I… decided to track where you were being held. To see if I could help." His eyes flicked around the chamber again before settling on her. "But it seems I was just worrying too much."

On the bed, Leon fought not to frown. 'His intentions are pure… but now the commander will know he's close with Racheal. Still… it doesn't really matter. It's not like we plan to antagonize the Guard anytime soon.'

****

After stepping into the trial, Adrian had braced himself for the worst, perhaps a beast-ridden forest, a swamp teeming with corruption, or an endless wasteland. Instead, he opened his eyes to find himself standing in the middle of a sprawling city, its grand walls and watchtowers unmistakable. The capital.

Like Leon and Racheal, his mission appeared in the corner of his vision:

[Objective: Find the source of corruption and destroy it.]

At first, relief washed over him. But it didn't last. The moment the mission parameters shifted, a new line appeared that made his blood run cold:

[Rank: SSS | Difficulty: Tier VII]

Adrian froze. Tier VII of the highest rank, where the smallest misstep meant instant death.

'I have to be careful,' he told himself, forcing his breath steady. 'One wrong move here, and I won't even know how I died.'

His gaze swept the bustling capital, armored patrols moving with precision. At least he hadn't been dropped in a forest. 'If it were a monster-infested jungle… who knows what kind of creatures would've torn me apart by now.'

Here, among stone and steel, corruption felt distant. But that didn't mean he could relax. His arrival zone was marked as a safe area, yet that safety would be meaningless unless he used the time wisely.

It was then he stumbled upon the announcement: Imperial Guard recruitment.

Adrian hadn't hesitated. Joining offered him resources, protection, and access to knowledge. His identity as a trial taker, along with his raw talent, made him stand out immediately. Passing the tests wasn't difficult—what came after was.

Life among the guards was grueling. The drills, the discipline, the unyielding rules, every part of it crushed those who weren't fit. But Adrian discovered something else within their vault of teachings: the Golden Guardian Art.

An apex cultivation art. Its potential was towering, its foundation flawless. Yet it was left untouched, buried in dust, because no guard had ever been compatible with it.

The first time Adrian's eyes fell on the script, something inside him stirred. It might have been a connection or maybe a resonance. It was as if the art had been waiting for him.

"Are you sure you want to practice this many have tried it but no one was ever able to master it" Agnes, the officer assigned to watch over him, had warned warned him about the art. But Adrian's instincts screamed otherwise. He ignored her advice.

The result was staggering. The moment he began practicing the art, his growth skyrocketed. The synergy was perfect, every breath and movement aligning as if the art had been made for him. And with that, he finally managed to break through, advancing his rank within the trial world.

Even so, the Imperial Guard was a place of strict order. Favoritism was rare. Comfort was earned. Which was why, as Adrian now stood inside the luxurious quarters, his eyes widened.

The chandelier, the lavish bed, the polished floors, this was no barracks. And there, standing calmly, was Racheal Morningstar, the elf he remembered from before the trial began.

His thoughts churned. 'What could she have possibly done to receive this kind of treatment?'

Then his gaze drifted to the bed. Someone lay there, unconscious.

The question that gnawed at him deepened.

'And who in the world is that person?'

****

As Adrian stood in the lavish room, he kept his eyes fixed on Racheal. At first, he had come with purpose, ready to offer his help, maybe even sneak her out if she was being held against her will. But the longer he observed, the clearer it became. She wasn't a prisoner. If anything, she was being treated like a guest of honor. His intended rescue suddenly felt foolish.

Still, something gnawed at him. The boy lying on the bed. The stranger. For reasons he couldn't explain, Adrian felt a strange pull, a flicker of familiarity that wouldn't leave him alone.

Finally, he spoke. His tone careful, but the weight behind it heavy.

"Who is this person?" he asked, pointing at the "unconscious" figure stretched across the queen-sized bed.

Racheal stiffened. The question caught her off guard. But then, as her eyes flicked back to Leon, realization struck her. She hadn't known who he was at first either, not until he had told her himself. That memory made her soften as she gave the answer.

"That's Leon," she said quietly.

The name dropped into the room like a thunderclap.

Adrian froze, his face paling. His lips parted as if to speak, but for a long moment, no words came. Then, at last, his voice broke through, strained and disbelieving.

"…What!?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.