"Confident enough when he asked about the pigs," came the farmer’s gruff voice, edged with irritation. "Warned him, too. Now he’s lost my best axe and bled all over my sheets."

  Knox stirred, consciousness returning in sharp bursts. Pain. The boar. The fight that shouldn't have been. Myth changing rules again—figures.

  He'd nearly died in what amounted to a tutorial. Not unprecedented, but it usually took spectacularly bad decisions, not invisible system updates. The boar hadn't existed in beta. Typical Myth—always improvising.

  Warmth flowed through him, deeper than blood-dampened sheets, softer somehow. He opened his eyes to find golden light radiating from a figure beside his bed.

  A paladin. A woman. Her hands hovered above his chest, glowing faintly. She worked without hesitation—steady, practiced, unsettlingly natural.

  Knox’s eyes narrowed. "How are you doing that?"

  Her concentration faltered, warmth receding briefly. She frowned lightly. "Doing what?"

  "Healing," he said plainly.

  Her expression shifted, curious but calm. "New to Mythwrath? It's Touch of Purity—basic piety."

  Knox resisted the impulse to snap back, channelling irritation into analysis instead. "I tested paladin in beta. It wasn’t for me. How’d you unlock abilities this quickly?"

  She considered him evenly. "You didn't explore much in beta? Abilities come from intent. It's straightforward—just feeling, really."

  "I've logged plenty of beta hours," Knox said flatly.

  She shrugged mildly, unaffected. "You're stable. Rest."

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Knox forced himself upright, biting back a grunt of pain. "No time. I've got a boar to finish off."

  "Boar?" Her eyes flicked sceptically to the farmer. "There aren’t boars around here—just pigs."

  "Well," the farmer shifted awkwardly, "there’s one big bastard. Thought he wandered off."

  Knox turned slowly, eyes narrowed. "You knew and said nothing? Pigs are manageable. That boar nearly gutted me."

  "Your incompetence isn’t my problem," the farmer retorted sharply. "Thanks to you, I have bloody sheets, an angry beast destroying my fields, and you lost my axe!"

  The paladin’s frown deepened thoughtfully. "There shouldn’t be a boar here at all."

  "Exactly," Knox muttered. "Myth’s improvising—new monsters, new gear setups, altered progression."

  The paladin’s expression remained calm, quietly measuring. "Concerning."

  Knox’s gaze sharpened. "Concerning’s one way to put it. Abilities aren’t responding normally. My gear’s off. It’s like playing blind."

  "If the pigs got you this low," she said steadily, "a boar might be too much."

  "Pig, singular," Knox corrected deliberately, irritation concealed under dry detachment. "It was calculated. Needed the damage for progression. Berserker class—pain to power."

  She tilted her head, a hint of dry amusement beneath calm scrutiny. "You're insane. High-risk?"

  "High reward," Knox acknowledged, reluctantly intrigued by her perceptiveness. "Myth sprung perma-death last minute. Too late to pivot."

  Knox slowly stood, steadying himself. "Thanks for the heal. I’ve got it from here."

  She stepped in front of him calmly, blocking his path. "I'm part of this quest now. You're not ready."

  Knox eyed her sceptically, evaluating risks and resources silently. "I started it—I’ll finish it. Knowing it’s out there changes things."

  "Fine," she conceded with quiet resolve. "But I'm coming. I need progression, you keep the reward. My second path might even help."

  Knox’s curiosity sharpened, calculations whirling. "Second path already?"

  "Bulwark," she replied simply, a shield materializing on her arm, intricately patterned. Quiet pride, no bravado.

  Knox raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. "How’d you unlock that so fast?"

  "Intent," she replied evenly, extending a small dagger from her inventory. "Want to party up? Just this once."

  Knox hesitated briefly, calculating quietly. Fighting without skills was foolish. He exhaled, resigned. "Just this once. I solo."

  "Works for me," she said with gentle irony. "Long-term, you'd slow me down anyway."

  Knox snorted quietly, appreciating the subtle jab. He took the dagger, nodding toward the door. "Let’s move."

  Behind them, the farmer called out sharply, "Get my axe back!"

  As they stepped outside, snow crunching beneath boots, the paladin glanced sideways. "Aria."

  Knox replied simply, "Knox."

  Recognition flickered briefly across her face—swiftly masked. His reputation had evidently preceded him.

  They moved forward together in quiet readiness, each assessing the other silently, tension mounting as they neared the field. Neither knew exactly what awaited—but both understood this was no longer just a tutorial.