Chapter 70
The solitary gate pulsed behind Nille as he stepped out from the underground realm and back into the structured pathways connecting Sector 11 to the outer districts. The transition always felt strange. One moment, he was surrounded by blood-soaked stone corridors, the scent of death, and the distant growls of Malignant creatures. The next, he stood beneath artificial lights and reinforced steel walkways filled with students, hunters, transport drones, and the endless movement of academy life.
The War Troll's remains rested inside Nyx's dimensional storage, its massive core carefully sealed away along with the harvested bones, tendons, and hardened flesh plates. Even after the battle ended, the weight of what he learned remained in his mind.
The Ogre was not something he could recklessly face. What disturbed Nille even more was the growing realization that the mythological creatures recorded inside academy books were no longer functioning within the limits described by those records. The deeper he ventured into the their separated secure and manage habitants named as sectors, the clearer the difference became.
Trolls were supposed to be slow, primitive creatures driven only by hunger and instinct, yet the War Troll had displayed tactical aggression, controlled berserk evolution, and an abnormal level of spiritual adaptation. It had not behaved like a beast trapped inside old stories. It had behaved like something evolving. the fact a Basilisk attack a chimera and Tikbalangs are organize and now Ogres were in a group that was suppose to be like the troll who are solitary
That realization unsettled him more than the battle itself.
Every creature he encountered seemed to possess traits beyond what scholars documented. The Basilisk variants did not simply petrify targets anymore; some altered terrain itself through mineral contamination. Chimera species displayed unstable elemental mutations that should have been biologically impossible according to modern magical theory. Even the lower-ranked Malignants showed territorial intelligence and coordinated hostility that resembled organized predators rather than monsters acting on instinct.
The academy books spoke as if these creatures were fixed existences with predictable behaviors and limitations.
Reality proved otherwise.
It was as though the creatures underground were changing faster than human knowledge could keep up.
Or perhaps they had always been changing, while humanity merely continued relying on outdated information written by people who survived encounters centuries ago.
That possibility made the Ogre even more dangerous.
If Trolls could evolve into something capable of entering berserk states and adapting spiritually during combat, then an Ogre , a creature already considered several levels above Trolls , could possess abilities completely absent from historical records. Nille could no longer trust written descriptions as absolute truth. Doing so would eventually get him killed.
He needed preparation.
Real preparation.
Not the kind the academy schedule offered through slow lectures and controlled exercises. He needed knowledge gathered from experience, forbidden reports, hunter testimonies, old expedition records, and anything the academy library tried to bury beneath restricted archives.
Because whatever existed beneath Sector 11 no longer resembled simple mythology.
It felt alive.
And it was evolving.
The evening streets glowed beneath rows of rune-powered lamps as Nille continued walking toward the Rune Forge merchant district. The noise of the city surrounded him , merchants shouting prices, distant transport rails moving overhead, hunters returning from sectors with bloodied armor and tired faces , yet his thoughts remained focused on Nyx's words.
The Ogre was dangerous.
Far too dangerous to challenge carelessly.
For several minutes, silence lingered between them before Nyx finally spoke again within his mind.
"You are thinking too far ahead."
Nille adjusted the strap on his shoulder slightly.
"I have to."
"No," Nyx replied calmly. "You are forcing yourself to survive tomorrow's battle before properly surviving today."
Nille frowned faintly.
"That doesn't even make sense."
"It does to dragons."
Her voice carried its usual composed tone, but there was something strangely lighter beneath it now. Less cold than before.
"You do not need to rush toward the Ogre," she continued. "Take it slowly. Grow stronger first. Advance your skills. Learn. Hunt smaller targets. I will help you clear your debt eventually."
Nille blinked once.
"…Wait."
He slowed slightly while walking through the crowded pathway.
"What do you mean you'll help me clear my debt?"
Nyx remained silent for a brief moment before answering.
"Dragons collect treasure."
"That sounded way too obvious."
"Because it is obvious."
Nille almost laughed under his breath.
"You're serious?"
"Very."
Nyx's tone carried something close to pride now.
"Even wingless dragons like myself love gathering wealth. Gold. Spirit crystals. Ancient artifacts. Expensive jewels. Rare metals. Magical relics. We sleep on them. Protect them. Count them repeatedly despite already knowing the exact amount."
"…That sounds extremely greedy."
"It is greedy," Nyx answered without shame. "I am a dragon."
Nille shook his head slightly while continuing down the illuminated street.
For the first time since meeting her, he could actually picture what Nyx may have once looked like before becoming what she was now , some terrifying dragon curled atop mountains of treasure deep underground, treating priceless relics like ordinary decorations.
Then Nyx's voice became quieter.
"If that Dalaketnon truly only wanted my territory… then my treasure should have remained untouched."
Nille's expression shifted slightly.
"But it didn't."
"No."
A faint tension entered her voice.
"The treasure is still inside the cave system beneath the twentieth underground floor of Sector 12."
Nille nearly stopped walking.
"Twenty?"
"That is where my domain once existed."
"…You lived that deep underground?"
"Dragons prefer isolation."
Nille stared ahead silently as people moved around him through the busy streets.
The twentieth floor.
Even the academy treated lower underground sectors as near-suicidal zones.
And Nyx had lived there.
"Then why not retrieve it?" he asked quietly.
Nyx answered immediately.
"Because the Dalaketnon is not ordinary."
For the first time since meeting her, Nille sensed genuine caution from Nyx.
"Even at my peak state, I was overwhelmed."
That made him pause internally.
Nyx was powerful. Even weakened, her knowledge and presence alone made that obvious.
Yet she spoke of that creature carefully.
"It understood anti-dragon combat principles," she continued. "Too well. Far too well for a random entity born underground. It knew where to strike. How to disrupt my spiritual flow. How to damage scales efficiently. How to pressure larger creatures into confined spaces."
Nille narrowed his eyes slightly.
"That doesn't sound natural."
"It is not."
Nyx's tone hardened faintly.
"Which is why retrieving my treasure now would be dangerous. Extremely dangerous."
The two fell silent again as Nille entered a quieter district leading toward the merchant quarter. Large forge towers rose ahead, their orange furnace light illuminating the streets like artificial sunset.
Then Nille spoke again.
"…I'm still surprised."
"About what?"
"That you're willing to abandon your treasure."
Nyx became quiet for several seconds.
When she answered, her voice sounded different.
Lower.
More honest.
"If you had entered my lair before… I would have killed you immediately."
Nille gave a dry smile.
"Good to know."
"You were weak. Intruding. Unknown. Dragons do not tolerate such things."
"But now?"
Nyx's voice softened slightly.
"Now I am your steward."
The words lingered strangely in Nille's mind.
Steward.
Not servant.
Not prisoner.
Steward.
A being choosing to stand beside him.
"The situation demanded a fast answer," Nyx continued quietly. "And you gave one."
Nille remembered it clearly.
Back then, he barely understood what he was doing. He only knew hesitation would have killed both of them.
"I wasn't thinking that deeply."
"I know."
That answer oddly carried amusement.
"You acted anyway."
Nille looked down at his own hand briefly while walking.
He still felt inexperienced.
Still learning.
Seventeen years old.
A teenager pretending to understand a world filled with monsters, hidden powers, academy politics, ancient creatures, and evolving horrors beneath the underground sectors.
Half the time he felt like he was simply reacting to situations faster than he could understand them.
Yet somehow—
Nyx trusted him.
Or at least chose to.
"You changed too," Nille suddenly said.
Nyx paused.
"How so?"
"When we first met, you sounded like you were ready to kill everyone around you."
"That feeling has not entirely disappeared."
"I'm serious."
Nyx remained quiet.
Nille continued walking slowly.
"You're calmer now. You explain things more. You even warn me when I'm being stupid."
"That occurs frequently."
"…Thanks."
A faint silence followed before Nyx answered again.
"You are not the same either."
Nille blinked slightly.
"What changed?"
"You listen now."
That answer caught him off guard.
"You understand your limits better than before. You ask questions instead of blindly charging forward. And despite your fear… you continue moving."
Nille exhaled slowly.
Maybe that was true.
Or maybe he was simply being forced to grow up faster than normal.
Either way, the person walking through these streets now no longer felt like the same boy who first entered Sector 12 searching only for money to pay a debt.
Something was changing inside him.
And Nyx noticed it long before he did.
Nille walked calmly through the narrow gate corridor while Nyx's living threads slowly shifted across his body. The Celestial Dragon Scale Cloth moved like flowing scales beneath his clothing before settling into a disguised form. His face became partially wrapped in dark fabric similar to the enchanted scarf he normally wore, while subtle changes altered his appearance just enough to avoid attention.
"You are adapting faster," Nyx spoke softly inside his mind.
Nille glanced ahead.
"I noticed."
"Your body structure changed slightly after absorbing the War Troll's spiritual residue. Your skeletal density increased."
"That explains why everyone suddenly looks shorter."
Nyx almost sounded amused.
"You grew taller by approximately five centimeters."
As Nille exited the Solitary Gate connecting the other realm, he walked through the long corridor leading toward the enchanted tower's main exit, located on the lower slopes of the mountain range. The air shifted subtly as he moved, like reality itself adjusting between layers. Above and around the structure, illusion spells distorted its true form , what one person saw was never what another perceived. To some, it appeared as a cathedral-like academy tower. To others, a ruined fortress half-buried in stone. Some even described it as a living structure that shifted shape depending on emotion or intent.
The professors had long since standardized its designation as "Sector 11," a modern classification meant to organize what earlier generations called by dozens of names: Rift Entrance, Other Realm Gate, Habitat Zone, Dungeon Access, Hunting Ground, and more. But no matter the terminology, everyone understood the truth beneath it , this place was not a single structure. It was a threshold connecting multiple unstable layers of reality.
Nille stepped through it as though it were normal.
He had not hesitated when entering days ago.
And that was the problem.
He was five days late returning.
That single delay had already placed him in a situation he was still trying to understand. The academy did not tolerate misalignment with sector schedules, especially in zones classified under high-risk hunting rotation. Reports would already be filed. Evaluations already updated. Assumptions already made.
Nyx had noticed his pattern immediately.
"You entered without preparation in the past," she said quietly inside his mind.
Nille adjusted his pace as the corridor widened slightly.
"I didn't exactly have a choice."
"You always say that when you rush."
"I wasn't rushing this time."
A faint pause followed.
"That is incorrect," Nyx replied.
Nille exhaled under his breath but didn't argue.
The old cobblestone pathway echoed faintly beneath his footsteps while rune-lit walls illuminated the narrow passage with a cold blue glow. Each step he took carried a subtle resonance, as if the tower itself was registering his presence and deciding how to interpret him through its layered illusions.
Nyx continued, her tone more measured now.
"You were impulsive in combat zones in the past. Entering deeper sectors without full assessment. Engaging threats beyond your verified capacity. And delaying return schedules without considering consequence probability."
"That sounds like a lecture."
"It is analysis."
Nille glanced toward the shifting light patterns along the wall.
"I survived, didn't I?"
"You surviving is not the same as you being safe. You can't just rely on your luck, it is foolish. Take it from me."
That line lingered longer than expected.
He didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he simply kept walking toward the tower's lower exit.
Nyx's voice softened slightly.
"You are not yet fully trained. Not fully stabilized. Your body is adapting, yes, but your decision-making still reflects instability under pressure. "
" ' dont want to ne like a nagging mother , i here to help you grow stronger in the right way,"
Nille frowned faintly.
"So what? I should just wait around until I'm 'ready'?"
"No," Nyx answered. "You should build readiness instead of assuming it will appear during crisis."
That made him quiet for a moment.
The corridor gradually opened into a wider chamber where faint wind could be felt leaking through enchanted seams in the structure. Beyond it, the lower exit of the tower awaited — the boundary between controlled academy space and the unpredictable mountain routes leading into the outer city.
Nille slowed slightly.
"…You're trying to stop me from overdoing it."
"I am preventing you from dying " Nyx corrected calmly.
"That sounds worse."
"It is more accurate."
A faint pause.
Then Nyx added something else, quieter than before.
"If you continue entering situations above your threshold, even adaptation will not be enough."
Nille looked ahead, expression unreadable.
For a moment, he almost wanted to argue.
But instead, he exhaled slowly.
"The previous steward didn't even bat an eye when following your command. Did you even feel sad when Scarf's identity vanished and I replaced it?" Nyx asked quietly, her voice carrying a weight that was unusually personal for her usual tone. Nille didn't respond at first.
The question settled in his chest in a way he hadn't expected, catching him off guard more than any battle he had faced underground. He lowered his gaze slightly, the confidence he usually carried faltering for a brief moment as guilt and shame surfaced without warning. The silence between them stretched until he finally spoke, his voice quieter than before. "…Then what do you want me to do?"
There was a brief silence inside his mind , not hesitation, but consideration.
Finally, Nyx replied.
"Grow without breaking yourself."
The words followed him as he stepped closer to the exit, the cold blue rune-light fading behind him while natural daylight began to spill through the tower's opening ahead.
At the same time, seven senior students entered through the opposite side of the gate.
Their presence alone carried pressure.
Unlike ordinary academy students, these individuals wore genuine combat equipment meant for real hunts beyond the academy's safer training zones. Reinforced armor pieces covered vital areas of their bodies, layered with enchantments designed to withstand spiritual attacks. Heavy cloaks embroidered with protective runes rested over their shoulders, while tactical belts lined with potions, tools, and talismans hung at their waists. Each weapon they carried emitted faint spiritual signatures powerful enough to be sensed even from a distance.
One carried a massive rune-etched hammer over his shoulder.
Another had twin curved blades glowing faintly blue.
A woman near the center casually spun a black spear with practiced ease while discussing something with the others.
"The Dominant Malignant should still be deeper inside the central ruins."
"If the reports are accurate, its regeneration speed is abnormal."
"We kill it before other teams arrive."
Their voices carried confidence born from experience.
They barely glanced at Nille as they passed him, assuming he was another wandering scavenger or lower-ranked worker returning from surface maintenance duties.
But as one tall senior walked past him, Nille noticed something immediately.
They were the same height.
The senior student himself seemed to notice for a brief second, glancing sideways beneath his hood before continuing forward without much thought.
Nille remained silent.
The realization lingered quietly in his mind.
Just weeks ago, he would have looked noticeably smaller beside these upperclassmen.
Now he blended among them naturally.
"You are changing faster than expected," Nyx said again.
Nille exhaled slowly.
"I can feel it."
The academy's outer city slowly came into view as he descended from the elevated sector pathways. Massive towers filled the skyline while glowing rune lamps illuminated the evening streets. Vendors lined portions of the lower district, selling equipment, charms, cooked meat skewers, repair materials, and cheap food to exhausted hunters returning from various sectors.
The smell of fresh bread drifted through the air.
Nille paused.
"…I just realized I haven't eaten since yesterday."
"That would explain your declining stamina levels," Nyx replied immediately.
"You always say it like I'm some dying machine."
"You are biologically inefficient when starving."
Nille sighed and followed the smell toward a small corner bakery squeezed between two metal support buildings. The shop itself looked old compared to the modern structures around it. Warm yellow lights shined through its windows while steam escaped from the doorway each time customers entered.
An elderly woman behind the counter smiled faintly as Nille entered.
"Late hunter?"
"Something like that."
He bought two stuffed bread rolls and a small meat pie using part of the academy currency he still carried. The bread was warm enough to burn his fingers slightly.
As he stepped back outside into the crowded evening streets, he immediately took a bite.
"…This might actually be the best thing I've eaten here."
Nyx remained silent for a moment before replying.
"That is because your body desperately requires nutrients."
Nille continued walking through the lower district while eating slowly, his destination set toward Rune Forge Merchant Hall where he planned to sell the War Troll materials.
But several streets behind him,
someone stopped walking.
A lone figure stood near the descending pathway connected to Sector 11.
The person's eyes narrowed slightly beneath the shadows of a hood.
At the heart of Nille and Nyx interaction lies a growing contradiction: control versus growth, guidance versus independence, survival versus understanding. Nille begins to realize that surviving an encounter is not the same as being safe, while Nyx pushes him to understand that reckless reliance on luck is a path that inevitably leads to failure. Between them forms a fragile equilibrium, neither fully in command, neither fully free.