Re:Birth: A Slow Burn LitRPG Mage Regressor

Adom woke up slowly, his consciousness split between his own body and John’s. The golem’s vision overlapped with his - a strange double-image of the brightening sky and the inside of the tent.

Maybe calling him ’John’ was weird, even just in his thoughts. But it helped maintain the illusion, and names had power. Better to keep the habit, even in his own mind.

The connection through the talisman felt like having an extra set of limbs, distant but responsive. He could doze while John kept watch, a trick that had taken weeks to master. His father would probably disapprove - ”proper rest means proper rest” - but it worked well enough.

The night had been quiet. Almost suspiciously so, given Sonja’s story. No gankers, no monsters, not even the usual dungeon sounds. Just crickets and the occasional distant howl that probably wasn’t worth investigating.

”Morning,” Sam mumbled from his bedroll, hair sticking up in about seven different directions. ”Anything try to eat us?”

”Just your snoring,” Adom said. ”I think it scared everything else away.”

”I do not snore.”

”You really do,” Yann called from outside. The healer was already up, probably checking on Sonja. ”Like a drunk bear with allergies.”

Sam threw his pillow at the tent flap, missing completely. ”Slander. Lies and slander.”

Cassandra emerged from the women’s side of the tent, already fully dressed and looking irritatingly alert.

”Breakfast?” she asked, pulling out her notebook. Always with the notebook.

”Soon,” Yann called back. ”Just changing Sonja’s bandages first.”

Adom stepped out into the morning air, letting John’s perspective merge more fully with his own. The golem stood at the edge of their camp, scanning the treeline. Nothing but birds and the occasional squirrel. Monster birds and squirrels of course. This was still a dungeon, after all. The birds had an extra shimmer to their feathers, and the squirrels’ eyes glowed faintly in the shadows, but they behaved like regular wildlife. One particularly bold squirrel even approached John, sniffing curiously before darting away.

Sonja sat propped against a fallen log, wincing as Yann worked on her leg. The wound looked better - less angry red, more normal healing pink.

”How’s it feeling?” Adom asked, dropping down beside the fire pit.

”Better,” she said. ”Your healer knows his work.” She smiled at Yann, who merely grunted and continued his examination. ”I think I can walk properly today.”

”Good,” Cassandra said, not looking up from her writing. What was she writing anyway? ”We need to move soon.”

Sam emerged from the tent, still fighting with his hair. ”Anyone else think it was too quiet last night? Like, suspiciously quiet?”

”Noticed that too,” Adom agreed. ”John didn’t pick up anything unusual though.” Through the talisman, he felt the golem shake its head in confirmation.

”Could mean they gave up,” Sonja offered hopefully.

”Could mean they’re being smart,” Yann countered, finishing with her bandages. ”Waiting for us to lower our guard.”

”Always the optimist, dear senior.” Sam muttered, finally getting his hair under control. ”Hey, is that coffee I smell?”

It was. Yann had somehow managed to set up his portable stove and get water boiling without anyone noticing. The man moved like a ghost when he wanted to.

”Army grade,” the healer said, pouring cups. ”Could wake the dead.”

”Probably kill them again too,” Sam said, but he took his cup eagerly enough.

”Not taking coffee?” Yann asked, noticing Adom hadn’t reached for a cup.

”Oh, he doesn’t drink that stuff,” Sam cut in before Adom could answer. ”Our mighty strategist here prefers his fancy leaf water.”

”You know nothing, little one,” Adom said, pulling out his pack with exaggerated dignity. ”Just because you can’t appreciate the subtle artistry of properly brewed tea...”

”Tea has its virtues,” Yann said, slipping into healer mode. ”The bitter elements strengthen the stomach, and certain varieties help restore mana. Plus, the ritual of preparation itself can be-”

”It’s good for you,” Sam cut in. ”We get it.”

Sonja accepted her coffee with both hands, inhaling the steam. ”This is amazing,” she told Yann. ”The blend is perfect.”

The healer actually blushed, mumbling something about army rations and proper preparation. Adom caught Sam’s eye, then Cassandra’s. They shared a look of collective confusion. In the many days since they’d formed their party, Yann had never once gotten flustered by compliments.

”Tea time,” Adom said, pulling out a small pouch. The fabric was worn but still held traces of elaborate embroidery.

”What blend is that?” Yann asked, watching as Adom carefully measured leaves into his cup. ”The aroma is... unusual.”

”Gift from a Veyshari sorceress,” Adom said, adding hot water with practiced precision. ”Met her during their passage in Arkhos last year.”

Cassandra’s cup stopped at her lips. ”The Veyshari? I’ve always wanted to trade with their caravans. Their goods fetch premium prices in most cities. With the right structure, it could be quite profitable.”

”Merchant ambitions?” Adom asked, watching his tea steep.

”Yes.” Cassandra replied. ”I’m saving from my work with Madam to open a small shop. And then,” she continued in the same matter-of-fact tone, ”I’ll conquer the thousand seas and become the most successful merchant in this world.”

”Huh,” Adom said.

Sam grinned. ”You know, my father is a merchant. And I can see it - you’ve got that same calculating look he gets when discussing profit margins.”

”Your father is a merchant?” Cassandra’s eyes narrowed. ”When we’re out of here, would you mind introducing me to him?”

”Of course! He’s always looking for sharp minds to work with. Just don’t let him rope you into one of his three-hour lectures about trade routes.”

”What’s that smell?” Sonja asked, leaning toward Adom’s cup. ”It’s like... summer rain and honey.”

Adom watched the leaves unfurl, releasing spirals of color into the water. ”It’s a blend of mountain sage, frost lotus, and something they call ’dreamer’s breath.’ Makes the mind sharp during daylight hours, helps with sleep at night.”

”Dreamer’s breath,” Yann mused. ”That’s the silvery one? Interesting. The sage awakens the mind, while the lotus shifts its nature with the sun’s path. Working together like that... clever crafting.”

Yann was being very... informative this morning. Almost as if he was trying to impress someone. What happened here?

What Adom didn’t mention was the dreams. Every time he drank the tea, they came - vivid and strange and always the same. A cave, impossibly large, with a single apple tree growing in a shaft of sunlight that shouldn’t exist underground. The fruits gleamed red and ripe, calling to him. He never reached them in the dream, but he remembered every detail upon waking. Most dreams faded, but these stayed sharp as crystal in his mind.

He’d tried researching the phenomenon, but information on Veyshari magic was scarce. The sorceress said only that it would relieve his stress. Which it did, and he was not complaining. Still, the dreams were oddly soothing, even if he didn’t understand their purpose. Because they definitely had a purpose and magic was definitely involved.

”How long until the water’s right?” Sam asked, peering into Adom’s cup.

”When the leaves totally sink,” Adom said. ”About another minute.”

”Leaf juice ritual,” Sam muttered. They’d had this conversation enough times that it had become a comfortable routine.

”Ah, tea’s ready,” Adom said, lifting his cup. The leaves had settled into a perfect spiral at the bottom.

”And breakfast,” he added, pulling out five glass vials from his pack. Each one contained what looked like a chocolate milkshake, if milkshakes could somehow look both appetizing and slightly wrong at the same time.

Sam groaned. ”Your latest attempt?”

”Version forty-seven,” Adom confirmed, distributing the vials. ”I think I finally got the texture right. Smooth, not grainy. Added some vanilla extract and processed cocoa beans.”

”The last one tasted like wet sand mixed with honey,” Sam said, but he took his vial anyway. ”The one before that was like drinking liquid chalk.”

”This one’s better,” Adom promised. ”I figured out how to bind the nutrients without using ground crystals. Used liquid extraction instead.”

Yann examined his vial with professional interest. ”The color’s more consistent. No separation. Good emulsion.”

”Just drink it,” Cassandra said, already uncorking hers. ”It’s better than nothing.”

Sonja looked at her vial uncertainly. ”Meal replacement potion?”

”Adom’s obsessed with perfecting them,” Sam explained. ”It’s his thing. Like how Cass is obsessed with profit margins and Yann pretends he doesn’t care about anything.”

”I care about proper medical procedure,” Yann muttered, but he was still studying the potion’s consistency.

Adom uncorked his own vial. The smell was... almost right. Chocolate and vanilla, with undertones of something else. Something that reminded you that this wasn’t actually food, but a carefully calculated mixture of nutrients and magic.

”Bottom’s up,” he said, and drank.

The texture was perfect - smooth and silky, coating his tongue without being thick or cloying. The initial taste was good too - rich chocolate, hints of vanilla, maybe a touch of cinnamon. But then...

”Still got that powdery aftertaste,” he sighed. ”Why can’t I get rid of that?”

[+4 Life Force]

At least it worked. He could feel the energy spreading through his body, muscles becoming more responsive, mind sharpening. The system’s confirmation was just extra validation.

”It’s not bad,” Sonja said, sounding surprised. She’d finished half her vial. ”Better than trail rations.”

”High praise,” Sam said dryly. He was drinking his in small sips, like someone taking medicine. ”Setting a really high bar there.”

”The texture’s definitely improved from the last few days,” Cassandra noted, always practical. ”Previous versions felt like drinking sand.”

”That was the ground crystals,” Adom explained. ”Traditional method. Everyone uses it because it’s reliable, but I figured there had to be a better way. So I started experimenting with liquid extraction methods. The problem is getting the magical properties to bind properly without-”

”Please,” Sam cut in. ”Please don’t start explaining the entire alchemical process again. I still have nightmares about version thirty-nine’s hour-long lecture.”

”That was an important breakthrough! The crystallization matrix-”

”No,” everyone said in unison.

Adom sulked into his vial. Nobody appreciated the complexities of potion crafting these days. Still, they were drinking it. And it worked. That powdery aftertaste though... maybe if he adjusted the binding agent? Or tried a different extraction method for the magical components?

”One day,” he promised his vial, ”you’ll taste like a real milkshake. Perfect texture, perfect taste, no weird aftertaste. Just pure, delicious nutrition.”

”He talks to his potions,” Sam told Sonja in a stage whisper. ”We’re pretty sure it’s not healthy.”

Sonja laughed at Sam’s jab, a sound that made Yann glance up from his vials. ”Does he name them too?”

”Only the successful ones,” Sam said. Then, catching Adom’s eye: ”What? Version thirty-eight was called ’Sandmouth’ for a reason.”

Adom watched Sam’s easy banter with a mix of pride and surprise. It was exactly what he wanted to see, but to witness it now...

The nervous kid really was growing more confident by the day. Maybe too quickly? But before he could tease Sam in return-

”Shouldn’t we be moving?” Cassandra cut in, already packing her notebook. ”If we maintain good pace, we could reach the meeting point ahead of schedule.”

Adom laughed. ”Someone’s eager for that porter’s bonus.”

”Time is money,” she said primly.

They began breaking camp with practiced efficiency. John helped pack the tent while Sam doused the fire. Sonja tried to stand, wincing as she put weight on her injured leg.

”I could carry you,” Yann said suddenly.

And that was it.

Everyone froze. Even John’s mechanical head turned. A command from Adom to make the golem feel normal, of course.

”What,” Sam said slowly, ”exactly happened during your watch?”

Adom knew they’d been talking - he’d heard Sonja giggling through John, though he’d tried not to eavesdrop. It was probably the closest thing to flirting he’d ever heard from their healer. Not that there was ever a situation where he’d thought he’d hear it anyway.

”Her injury needs time to heal properly,” Yann said, face carefully neutral. ”Stressed movement could reopen the wound. As her treating physician-”

”Uh huh,” Sam said. ”Very medical. Much professional.”

”It does make tactical sense,” Cassandra offered.

”I appreciate the offer,” Sonja said, and was that a blush? ”But maybe just help me walk for now?”

”Of course,” Yann said quickly. Too quickly. ”Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

Sam opened his mouth, probably to say something that would get him murdered by their healer, but Adom cut him off. ”Time is money, remember? Let’s move.”

They fell into formation, with one notable change - Yann walking beside Sonja instead of his usual position. Sam kept shooting knowing looks at everyone except the pair in question.

*****

The author’s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The first monster attack came just past noon. They’d entered the Verdant Zone - all towering trees and thick undergrowth that made perfect hiding spots. John spotted them first: three Greater Razorbacks, pig-like creatures with crystalline spines running down their backs.

”Guys! Formation Three,” Adom called. Sam was already moving back, finding his firing position while John stepped forward, shield raised. The razorbacks charged, their crystal spines glowing with stored energy.

”Cassandra, Sonja, Yann - behind that outcrop,” Adom ordered, hands weaving his first spell. ”Sam, please focus the leader. John will brace!”

The lead razorback slammed into John’s shield with enough force to leave furrows in the earth. The golem held, buying time for Sam to line up his shot. A bolt of pure force struck the creature’s flank, shattering several of its crystal spines.

”They’re storing lightning!” Yann called from his position. ”Don’t let them discharge!”

Perfect timing - one of the razorbacks was already glowing brighter, preparing to release its stored energy. Adom finished his spell, creating a grounding field around the creature. The lightning dissipated harmlessly into the earth.

John’s sword flashed, opening a deep cut on the lead razorback’s shoulder. It squealed in rage, trying to gore him with its tusks. Sam’s next shot took it in the eye, and it went down thrashing.

The fight ended quickly after that. These weren’t particularly clever monsters - dangerous, but predictable. Still, they had to be careful harvesting the crystals.

”Good fight,” Cassandra noted, carefully opening her dimensional bag. ”These will get us a lot of points.”

”They better.” Sam muttered, rubbing his shoulder where recoil from his spells had left bruises.

They encountered two more razorback groups before reaching the zone transition. The second fight went smoothly, but the third -

”Adom, move!” Sam’s warning came just in time. Adom dove aside as crystal spines exploded where he’d been standing. His barrier spell caught most of the shrapnel, but some got through, leaving shallow cuts along his arm.

”I’m fine,” he said before Yann could ask. ”Please focus on Sam - that last shot took a lot out of him.”

The day continued like that - periods of careful advancement broken by bursts of combat. They passed through the Verdant Zone into the Stone Gardens, where the vegetation gave way to strange rock formations that seemed to grow like plants.

”Other teams ahead,” Adom signaled. Through the talisman, he saw a group of three fighting what looked like animated chunks of bones.

”Let’s go around,” he decided. ”No point getting involved unless-”

A scream cut through the air. One of the other team’s members was down, clutching a bleeding leg. Their healer was trying to reach them, but more bone creatures were emerging from the ground.

”Damn it,” Adom muttered. ”Yann-”

”Already moving,” the healer said, hands glowing with prepared spells.

They didn’t talk about helping - they just did it. Sam’s force bolts shattered two creatures while John and Adom carved a path to the wounded adventurer. Yann reached them moments later, already working on the injury.

”Thanks,” their leader gasped - a tall woman with close-cropped hair. ”We didn’t see the burrowers until too late.”

”Share information,” Cassandra said practically. ”We’ll trade what we know about this zone for what you’ve seen ahead.”

The exchange was quick but valuable. The other team had already mapped most of the Stone Gardens, marking ambush spots and resource nodes. In return, Adom warned them about the razorbacks’ lightning storage.

They separated soon after, both teams moving carefully through their respective routes. The rest of the day brought more fights - bone burrowers, a pack of shadow wolves, even what Sam called a ’mini-boss’ in the form of a stone giant that took everything they had to bring down.

”Its core is intact,” Cassandra announced after examining the giant’s remains. ”That alone will suffice to prove we took it down.”

By evening, they were all exhausted. Sam’s shoulders were a mass of recoil bruises, Adom’s cuts needed attention, and even John’s armor showed minor signs of wear. Only Yann seemed relatively fresh, though he’d used significant mana healing everyone throughout the day.

”Good progress,” Adom said as they made camp in a defensible cave. ”We’re ahead of schedule, despite the delays.”

”Speaking of delays,” Sam said, glancing at where Yann was checking Sonja’s leg again, ”anyone else notice our healer volunteered for every break we took?”

”Let him be,” Adom said, hiding a smile. ”Besides, we needed those breaks anyway.”

It had been a good day, all things considered. They were working well together, adapting to each other’s styles. Even Sonja had proved useful, spotting patterns in monster behavior that helped them prepare for encounters.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges - they still had three zones to cross before reaching the checkpoint. But for now, they could rest, recover, and maybe watch Yann pretend he wasn’t completely obvious about his growing attachment to their guest.

”I’ll take first watch,” Sam offered, then grinned. ”Unless Yann wants it?”

The healer’s only response was a handful of sand thrown with remarkable accuracy at Sam’s face.

Yann’s hands glowed with a soft golden light as he worked on Adom’s cuts. The shallow wounds from the razorback spines weren’t dangerous, but left untreated, they could get infected.

”Hold still,” Yann muttered. ”These crystal fragments are a pain to extract.”

Adom winced as Yann’s magic probed deeper, drawing out a sliver of crystal so thin it was nearly transparent. The healer caught it between his fingers, examining it critically before dropping it into a small metal dish.

”That’s the last one,” Yann said. ”Now for the actual healing.” His hands returned to Adom’s arm, the golden light intensifying.

Something suddenly flickered in Adom’s vision:

[System recalibrating...]

[White Wyrm’s Body has reached level 10!]

Your body now has twice the resilience of a normal human. Muscles, tendons, and skin are more resistant to tearing and puncture.

[Healing Factor has reached level 2!]

Your healing rate is now 5.5 times faster than a normal human’s. Wounds close rapidly, broken bones mend in days rather than weeks. Your body optimizes itself during rest.

[Your Mana Pool has increased from 700 to 702!]

Your capacity for holding magical energy has expanded significantly. Recovery rate increased to 6.2 units per hour. Channels have strengthened, allowing for more powerful spell casting with less strain.

[Boxing Mastery has reached level 10!]

Your strikes now carry perfect weight transfer from foot to fist. Footwork has become instinctively efficient, allowing you to maintain optimal positioning.

Adom kept his face neutral, though inwardly he was pleasantly surprised. In the span of eight months, [Healing factor] had been particularly stubborn to evolve. Making it advance required him to constantly harm himself, even more than he did with [White Wyrm’s Body].

To be honest, he didn’t feel any immediate change from it either. It would take time to notice the effects - and he knew he was still leagues away from reaching someone like Helios. Which made him wonder: What level would make me heal fast like Helios used to?

The [White Wyrm’s Body] upgrade, however - that he could actually feel. Discreetly, he pinched the skin on his forearm while Yann was looking away. It felt remarkably soft and elastic, yet he could sense the density beneath. Like normal human skin to all appearances, but with hidden strength. His muscles felt more compact, more efficient somehow.

”Something wrong?” Yann asked, noticing Adom’s momentary distraction.

”Just thinking about today’s fights,” Adom said smoothly. ”We worked well together.”

”True enough.” Yann finished the healing with a final pulse of magic. ”There. Might be sore for a day, but the wounds are closed.”

”Thanks.” Adom flexed his arm, testing the newly healed skin. Perfect, as expected.

Yann gathered his supplies, giving Adom a thoughtful look. ”You know, your body responds remarkably well to healing magic. Better than most, actually.”

”Good genes, I guess.”

”No, it’s more than that.” Yann’s voice dropped to ensure privacy. ”Most people, when healed, their bodies fight the process a little. Natural defense mechanism. But yours... it’s like your cells are actually working with the magic. Speeding things up.”

Adom shrugged. ”That’s good, right?”

”It’s unusual,” Yann said, snapping his medical kit closed. ”But yes, it’s good. Just thought you should know.” He hesitated, then added, ”Also, you’ve grown since we started training together. At least an one and a half centimeters, maybe more. I am good at picking these things up.”

”Sam mentioned that too.” Adom tried to sound casual. ”Hasn’t stopped giving me grief about it.”

”Hmm.” Yann didn’t look convinced by Adom’s nonchalance, but he let it drop. ”Get some rest. I’ll check on Sonja.”

As the healer moved away, Adom considered the other notifications. His mana pool had expanded to 702 units - a modest increase that represented months of careful work with Aelarion, aka Mr. Biggins. The old dragon-turned-man had been his usual eccentric self when Adom first approached him about accelerated expansion techniques.

”Everyone has a natural threshold,” Biggins had explained, peering at Adom over his spectacles. ”Push too hard, too fast, and you’ll hit a wall. Worse, you might damage your channels permanently. Boom! No more magic for young Adom!”

Adom knew about thresholds all too well. In his previous life, it had taken until his 70s to reach the size of a of a two-circle mage’s mana pool. As such, it was a level his body would eventually reach, naturally.

But this time, with his [Healing Factor] now operating at 5 and now 5.5 times normal human speed, Biggins estimated he could reach it by his mid 30s, possibly even sooner.

He could accelerate the process further with elixirs, like the ones Biggins had given him and Sam before. But as the old dragon had warned him, those had to be used sparingly.

”Think of your mana channels like a river,” Biggins had said while dramatically stirring a suspicious-looking purple concoction. ”The elixirs are like demolition charges - they blast the riverbed wider! Very effective! But use too many too quickly, and you’ll destroy the entire riverbank. The river dries up. You die! Very sad ending!”

With his [Healing Factor] evolving nicely, though, Adom might not need to risk the elixirs as often. His body was naturally accommodating the growth better than before.

”If you continue at this pace,” the old mage had said during their last session, twirling a piece of candy between his fingers, ”you might even surpass your natural limits. Your body is... adapting in ways I haven’t seen many humans do before. Most curious! Most exciting!”

The Boxing Mastery reaching level 8 was just icing on the cake. After months of training with Kalan, and some with his father, his punches now carried perfect weight transfer, his footwork was increasingly efficient, and his ability to read opponents had sharpened. He could instinctively identify weaknesses, predict movements even without [Flow Prediction], and place strikes with surgical precision.

”What’s that smug look for?” Sam dropped down beside him, interrupting his thoughts. ”Planning world domination?”

”Just appreciating not being dead,” Adom replied, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

”You know what I appreciate? That you’re finally taller than me.” Sam stretched dramatically. ”Makes me feel less guilty about hiding behind you during fights.”

”You never hide behind me.”

”That’s because you were slightly smaller than me until recently. It’d be weird.”

Adom laughed despite himself. ”Your logic is impeccable.”

”It’s the growth spurt from hell,” Sam continued. ”At this rate, you’ll be as tall as Yann by next year.”

”I doubt that.”

”No, seriously. You’re what, ten centimeters taller than you were at the start of term? That’s not normal. I’m starting to think your tea is magic growth juice or something.”

The Healing Factor skill wasn’t just closing wounds faster - it was optimizing his entire physical development. His body was functioning at peak efficiency, making the most of every nutrient, every bit of rest, every training session.

For all the wrong Helios did, this was almost enough to forget them all. I suppose I could thank him. Adom thought. Then he shook his head. What an odd thought that was.

”Speaking of tea,” Adom said, changing the subject, ”want some? I’ve got enough left for another pot.”

”Nah. That stuff makes me dream weird.”

”Define weird.”

”Last time I dreamed I was a fish trying to climb a staircase. The staircase was made of cheesecake.”

”That actually sounds perfectly normal for you.”

Sam threw a twig at him. ”Whatever. Hey, did you notice how Yann keeps finding excuses to check on Sonja? It’s like watching a teenager with his first crush.”

Adom glanced across the camp. Sure enough, Yann was sitting beside Sonja, examining her leg with far more attention than it probably needed.

”It’s nice,” Adom said. ”He deserves some happiness after the army.”

”Someone’s coming,” Cassandra said suddenly from the edge of the camp, her head snapping up from her notebook.

Adom and Sam both went silent. Through the talisman, Adom could feel John already turning toward the cave entrance, shield ready.

”How many?” Adom asked quietly.

”Just one, I think.” Cassandra was on her feet now, hand moving to the small knife at her belt. ”Coming fast. Uneven steps.”

They all heard it then - footsteps crashing through the underbrush, accompanied by labored breathing. Not trying to be stealthy at all. Either panicked or very confident.

”Yann,” Adom murmured, and the healer was already moving to Sonja’s side, helping her into a defensive position behind a rock formation.

The footsteps grew louder. Definitely human - the rhythm was unmistakable, though uneven. Like someone limping badly.

”Help!” A man’s voice called from outside. ”Please! Is someone there? Please help!”

Adom exchanged glances with Sam, who had his hands in position for a quick spell. Through John, Adom could see farther into the darkness - a figure stumbling down the path toward their cave.

”Who goes there?” Adom called out, keeping his voice steady.

”Thank the gods,” the voice gasped. ”Please - my party - we were attacked. They’re dying. I need help!”

A mimic? Another adventurer? The voice sounded genuinely desperate, but mimics were getting better these days.

”That’s far enough,” Cassandra called as the figure approached the edge of their firelight. ”State your business.”

The man stopped, swaying slightly. Blood darkened one side of his face, and he clutched his arm at an awkward angle. His gear was adventure-grade but battered, with tears and what looked like sword slashes across the chest plate.

”Please,” he said, voice breaking. ”We were camped in the hollow by the stone formation. Six of them came out of nowhere - professional gankers, not exam-takers. My friends... they’re still there. Fighting or...” He trailed off, gasping for breath.

”Stay where you are,” Adom said, moving closer but keeping a safe distance. ”How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

”I swear on everything - look at me!” The man gestured at his wounds with his good arm. ”You think I did this to myself? They’re killing everyone they find. Taking their points, their gear, everything.”

Adom studied him carefully. The blood looked real enough, and that dislocated shoulder wasn’t something you could easily fake. The man had dark hair tied back in a messy knot, now half-undone. His face was broad, features strong but now twisted with pain and urgency. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar, but with all the blood, it was hard to place.

”How far to your camp?” Yann asked, the healer in him clearly responding to the wounds.

”Half a mile, maybe less. Northeast, by the split rock formation. Please, every second we waste...”

Sonja gasped suddenly, the sound sharp in the tense quiet.

”What is it?” Yann asked, turning to her.

Her face had gone pale, eyes wide with recognition and fear. ”That’s him,” she whispered, then louder: ”That’s him! One of the gankers that attacked us!”

The man’s head snapped toward her voice, his expression shifting to confusion. ”What? No, I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

”You’re lying!” Sonja was on her feet now, Yann’s steadying hand on her arm. ”You were the leader! The one with the scar on your jaw!”

Now that she mentioned it, Adom could see it - a thin white line running along the man’s left jawline, partially obscured by blood and dirt.

”She’s confused,” the man said quickly, his eyes darting between them. ”I got this scar years ago in training. Look, I don’t know who she is, but my friends are dying right now!”

”You described him to us,” Cassandra said to Sonja, her voice calm but eyes sharp. ”Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair tied back, scar across the jaw.”

”That could describe dozens of people in this dungeon,” the man protested, but his posture had changed subtly - weight shifting, good hand hanging a little too close to his belt.

”Sonja, are you sure?” Yann asked, his voice tight.

”I swear it,” she said, gripping Yann’s arm. ”That’s him. I’ll never forget that face. He was laughing while they killed my friends!”

The man’s expression hardened, eyes narrowing as he looked at Sonja. ”You’ve got it backwards, lady. If anything...” He let out a bitter laugh. ”Gods, the nerve. She’s one of them. The gankers.”

”What?” Sam blurted.

”Yeah, that’s right,” the man continued, his voice gaining confidence. ”Red-haired woman, part of the group that hit us. Got hurt when my friend Jorith fought back.” He pointed at Sonja’s bandaged leg. ”Bet that wound isn’t from running away from gankers - it’s from attacking innocents!”

”That’s absurd,” Yann said immediately. ”We found her injured and alone.”

”Of course you did,” the man shot back. ”She probably got separated from her group when things went south. Crawled away to save her own skin, then fed you some sob story.”

Adom watched the exchange carefully, still silent.

”The rest of your ganking friends know you’re here?” the man continued, now addressing Sonja directly. ”Planning to signal them once these folks let their guard down?”

”You’re twisting everything!” Sonja’s voice broke with emotion. ”This is exactly what they do - they find lone survivors and turn them against each other!”

Through John, Adom could see the man’s hand inching toward what was probably a concealed weapon. Not obvious enough for the others to notice, but the golem’s enhanced vision caught the subtle movement.

”We found Sonja one day ago,” Cassandra stated flatly. ”She’s been with us since. If what you’re saying is true, how would her ’friends’ even know where to find her now?”

The man hesitated, just for a split second. ”They have a tracker. Magic item, lets them follow blood trails. Works for days after injury.”

”This is ridiculous,” Yann said, his arm now protectively around Sonja’s shoulders. ”You come stumbling into our camp with an obviously fabricated story, and expect us to just turn on someone we’ve been traveling with?”

”Someone you’ve known for what, a day?” the man countered. ”How much do you really know about her? Did she tell you where she’s from? Her guild? The names of these supposed friends she lost?”

Adom exchanged a look with Sam.

”My friends are dying,” the man said again, his voice quieter now, almost defeated. ”I thought... I hoped I’d found help. But I see how it is.” He took a step back. ”She’s got you all fooled. Just like she and her friends fooled that other party we found two days ago.”

”What other party?” Sam asked despite himself.

”Three students, younger than you.” The man’s eyes were hard now. ”They believed her story too. Found their bodies yesterday, picked clean. Not a coin or potion left.”

Sonja was shaking now, tears streaming down her face. ”He’s lying. Everything he’s saying is a lie!”

”Enough,” Adom said finally, his voice cutting through the tension. ”John, keep your shield ready.”

The golem moved slightly, positioning itself between the stranger and the rest of the group.

The man sighed deeply, shoulders slumping. ”I see how it is.” He looked directly at Sonja, all pretense dropped from his voice. ”This bitch has you all wrapped around her finger.”

”Watch your mouth,” Yann growled.

”Or what, healer? You’ll patch me up to death?” The man began backing away into the darkness. ”You know what? I’ll go look for help somewhere els—”

”John, grab him,” Adom commanded sharply.

The golem moved with shocking speed, covering the distance between them in two fluid strides. The man’s eyes widened in surprise as John’s metal hand clamped down on his shoulder.

”Where do you think you’re going?” Adom asked, stepping forward.

In that instant, the man’s entire demeanor changed. The dagger he’d been reaching for flashed in the firelight as he brought it up in a vicious arc toward John’s chest plate. The blade scraped across the metal with a sound like nails on glass.

”Let me go!” he snarled, suddenly moving with none of the stiffness or pain he’d displayed earlier. His supposedly dislocated arm now functioned perfectly, slashing repeatedly at the golem.

”He’s faking the injuries,” Cassandra noted calmly, though her hand had moved to her own weapon.

”No shit,” Sam muttered, hands glowing as he prepared a spell.

The man thrashed in John’s grip, his strength surprising for someone who moments ago had appeared on the verge of collapse. The blood on his face was real enough, but the wounds beneath seemed far less severe than he’d led them to believe.

”You’re all dead!” he spat, abandoning any pretense of being an innocent victim. ”You think I came alone? They’re right behind me!”

Yann had pulled Sonja further back into the cave, positioning himself protectively in front of her. ”Is he telling the truth?” he asked John. ”Are there others?”

Through the talisman, Adom scanned the darkness beyond the camp entrance. Nothing yet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there, waiting.

”Dead!” the man screamed again, louder now. ”All of you! They’re coming! THEY’RE HERE!”

His voice echoed through the camp and out into the night, the final word hanging in the air like a promise.

Or a signal.