Waking up from unconsciousness is usually depicted in novels as a dramatic moment: eyes opening slowly, sunlight blinding your vision, and the beautiful heroine's face staring down in worry. Reality, however, was far removed from that romantic expectation.
The first thing I realized was pain. Not a sharp, needle-like pain, but a dull ache spread evenly throughout my entire body, as if every inch of my muscles had been replaced with wet concrete that was slowly hardening. I tried to move my pinky finger—a standard test to confirm paralysis—and the result was nil. The finger remained motionless, loyal to gravity and utterly ignoring my brain's commands.
The second thing I realized was the smell. The scent of damp earth, moss, and something burnt… like porridge cooked far too long over the fires of hell.
"You're awake?"
The voice came from my right. I couldn't turn my head, so I glanced sideways with the corner of my eye. Elena was sitting there, leaning against the damp wall of the cave. Her silver armor, usually gleaming, was now dull, scratched, and coated in black dust—the remnants of the explosion in Veridia. She looked exhausted—truly exhausted—with dark circles forming beneath her beautiful eyes.
"D… d… on't…" I tried to speak, but my tongue felt stiff and thick, like a slab of cheap steak that hadn't been cooked yet.
"Don't talk. Your throat is swollen from a magical allergic reaction to that damn sauce," Elena cut in, picking up a dented wooden bowl. She stirred its contents with a spoon. Inside was a grayish-green porridge that released strange-smelling steam.
"Eat. Lila said you need liquid nutrition to help your nerves recover."
Elena brought the spoon to my mouth. I wanted to refuse—by all culinary gods, that porridge looked like wet cement—but my stomach growled loudly, betraying my pride.
The moment the porridge entered my mouth, my eyes widened. The taste was… bland, yet at the same time there was a sharp bitterness that hit at the end. The texture was rough, as if the rice hadn't been washed properly and was still mixed with tiny stones.
[Ding!]
[Consumed: "Elena's Survival Porridge".]
[Effect: HP +5, Will to Live -50.]
[Flavor Analysis: A combination of uncooked rice, unfiltered river water, and… is that tree bark?]
"Swallow," Elena ordered firmly, as if she were feeding a stubborn warhorse. "No complaints. I'm a knight, not a chef. Be grateful you didn't starve."
I swallowed with great effort. Thank you very much, Lady Elena. You may be my savior, but your cooking skills are a natural disaster.
After five torturous spoonfuls, I heard footsteps approaching from the cave entrance. Afternoon sunlight streamed in, forming the silhouettes of two very familiar figures—Lila and Lady Seraphina.
"Big Brother Rian!" Lila ran over, her oversized mage robe fluttering. She immediately checked my pulse with a serious expression, then began poking my stiff cheeks. "Whoa, his facial muscles are still cramped. That 'Fated Soy Sauce' was reaaaally strong. Almost turned you into a permanent statue."
"He'll recover, right?" Elena asked, setting the bowl of "doom porridge" aside.
"Yes! But it'll take time. Maybe two days before he can walk normally. Until then, Big Brother Rian has to be carried everywhere," Lila replied innocently.
I groaned inwardly. Carried? By Elena? My dignity as a man—no, as a bargain-bin hero—was being tested to its limits.
Seraphina approached slowly. She looked different. Her dirty noble dress had been replaced with simple adventuring clothes, likely borrowed from Lila. Her face was still pale, and she kept touching her neck, where the red eye tattoo had been. She looked at me, but her gaze was… empty. There was no relief or sympathy—only cold calculation hidden behind her beautiful eyes.
"I'm glad you survived, Rian," Seraphina said softly. Too softly. "We saw the explosion in Veridia. Half the tower collapsed. Malphas must be furious."
"'Furious' is an understatement," Elena replied while wiping her greatsword with a cloth. "We're now public enemy number one in this region. The cult will send Blood Hounds—demonic tracking beasts—to hunt us."
"We have to move tonight," Lila said, pulling out a worn map. "There's a small village beyond the mountain. We can hide there."
Elena nodded. "Lila, guard the cave entrance. Set up your bomb traps. Seraphina, rest. I'll gather firewood so we don't freeze tonight. Rian… you stay here and continue being a vegetable."
Elena stood, lightly patting my shoulder (which felt like being hit with a hammer), then walked out of the cave. Lila followed, busy mixing something she proudly called a "Smelly Sock Bomb" to scare off wolves.
That left only Seraphina and me in the dim cave.
Silence fell. Only the sound of water dripping from the stalactites remained. I tried to close my eyes, hoping to sleep and forget the pain in my body. But then, the System in my head activated—not with its usual cheerful tone, but with a terrifying static warning.
[Warning: Killing Intent Detected within 2 meters.]
[Source: Ally (?) ]
[Recommendation: Wake up, idiot! Or you will die in your sleep!]
My eyes snapped open.
Standing right beside my makeshift bed was Lady Seraphina. Her face was no longer gentle. It was flat, cold, and filled with horrifying despair. In her right hand, she held a small dagger—a silver one usually used by nobles to cut fruit—now aimed directly at my heart.
"Forgive me, Rian," she whispered. Her voice trembled, but her hand was steady. "I can't let you live."
I wanted to scream for Elena, but my voice was still locked. All I could produce was a pathetic "Ghh… kkhh…" I stared at her in panic, silently asking why.
As if reading my thoughts, Seraphina gave a sad smile. Tears streamed down her face. "You think I didn't know? My father sold me, yes—but he told me one thing before I left. The cult doesn't need 'royal blood' to awaken the Demon King. They need a 'Vessel.' And that Vessel… is you."
She moved the dagger closer to my chest.
"You saw it yourself in that tower. Your power. The eye inside the pan. You're not a hero, Rian. You're a ticking time bomb. If Malphas captures you, this world will end. Thousands will die." She swallowed hard, gripping the dagger tighter. "So it's better if you die now as a human, than live on as a monster that destroys everything. This is the only way to save everyone."
Perfect logic. Terrifying—but perfect. She wasn't a villainous traitor. She was a traitor trying to be a hero in her own way.
The dagger began to descend.
So this is how I die, I thought. A stupid death in a damp cave, killed by the princess I tried to save, while paralyzed from drinking soy sauce.
But just as the dagger's tip touched my clothes, something moved at my side.
My black pan.
It had been lying next to my waist all this time. Without anyone touching it, the pan began to tremble. Not a gentle vibration—but an angry one.
CLANG!
Suddenly, the pan leapt—yes, leapt—onto my chest, placing itself directly in the dagger's path.
SREEEK!
The silver dagger struck the scorched bottom of the pan. The sound of metal clashing echoed through the cave. Seraphina froze, her eyes wide in disbelief.
"W-what…?"
The pan didn't stop there. Its handle spun on its own and smashed into Seraphina's wrist.
SMACK!
"Ah!" Seraphina cried out, dropping the dagger.
The pan then floated slightly into the air—just a few centimeters—and aimed its blackened underside at Seraphina's face, as if threatening: Touch my master again, and I'll fry your face.
[Ding!]
[Item Evolution Confirmed: "Possessive Protective Pan".]
[Status: Semi-Sentient.]
[Loyalty: 100% to Rian (or more precisely, to Rian's cooking).]
[Automatic Action: Rejects all forms of physical penetration toward Master.]
Seraphina stumbled backward, her face pale with terror at the sight of a moving inanimate object. She collapsed onto the cave floor, trembling violently. "That thing… that thing is protecting the demon…"
At that moment, a long shadow appeared at the cave entrance. Elena stood there, dropping the firewood she had been carrying. Her eyes took in the fallen dagger, the terrified Seraphina, and the pan hovering above me.
The atmosphere froze. Elena wasn't stupid. She pieced together what had just happened in seconds.
"Seraphina," Elena said quietly—far more frightening than when she scolded enemies. She stepped inside slowly. "What were you doing with that dagger?"
Seraphina turned to her, tears pouring down. "Elena! He's a monster! You saw it yourself! That pan moved! We have to kill him before it's too late!"
Elena walked past Seraphina without looking at her, straight toward me. She picked up the hovering pan—which immediately went limp in her hands, pretending to be an ordinary pan—and placed it back beside me.
Then Elena turned to face Seraphina.
"I know he's dangerous, Seraphina. I know the destruction he could bring," Elena said calmly. "But he hasn't committed a single crime. He crippled himself to save us at the tower. If he wanted us dead, we'd already be corpses."
"It's a demon's trick!" Seraphina screamed hysterically.
"Maybe," Elena replied. She picked up Seraphina's dagger and sheathed it at her own waist. "But as long as I hold this sword, I decide when he dies. Not you. And not the cult."
Elena crouched in front of Seraphina, locking eyes with her. "We're a team now. A broken, chaotic, possibly cursed team. But we don't murder each other in our sleep. Understood?"
Seraphina sobbed and lowered her head. "I… I was just scared…"
"We're all scared," Elena said as she stood, then looked at me. Our eyes met—mine still wide with shock. There was a hint of gentleness in her gaze, mixed with overwhelming exhaustion.
"Sleep, Rian. Your insane pan has done its job well. Tomorrow morning, we need to have a serious talk about your… 'hidden talent.'"
I let out a relieved breath—or at least, I tried to. The pan beside me felt warm, as if it were saying, Relax, Boss. I've got this.
That night, in the cold cave, I realized one thing: my enemies weren't just the Red Eye Cult or the Demon King inside me. My enemies were also the fear within my own companions. And the only thing I could truly trust right now was a burnt pan that was increasingly behaving like a guard dog.
[Corruption Meter: 0.15% (Decreased due to heroic actions by Pan).]
[System Note: Do not lower your guard. A failed betrayal is often only the beginning.]
Outside the cave, the howls of Blood Hounds echoed faintly, carried by the cold night wind. They were getting closer.
And I still couldn't move my legs.