Three Days passed...

I woke to white ceiling and the smell of antiseptic.

Again.

But my body felt like it had been taken apart and put back together wrong. Every muscle ached. My head throbbed with a dull, persistent pain that made thinking difficult. Even breathing hurt.

I tried to sit up.

But, it was a bad idea.

Pain lanced through my torso, my arms, my legs, everywhere, all at once. I fell back against the pillows with a groan that came out more like a whimper.

"Don't move."

The voice was sharp, professional, coming from my left.

I turned my head slowly and saw her.

The Healer. An older woman with iron-gray hair pulled back severely, her face lined with the kind of exhaustion that came from decades of treating injuries too severe to fully heal. She wore the white robes of the medical corps, marked with gold trim that indicated her rank.

She approached my bed with efficient movements, pulling out a small crystal that glowed faintly blue. She held it near my chest, watching the light pulse and flicker.

"Severe mana exhaustion," she said, her tone clinical.

"Your pathways are damaged, strained beyond their normal capacity. You won't be able to use magic for at least a week, possibly longer depending on how well you heal."

I opened my mouth to respond, but my throat was too dry. The words came out as a croak.

She handed me a cup of water without being asked. I drank slowly, feeling the cool liquid soothe the rawness.

"How..." I managed. "How bad?"

"Bad enough that most people wouldn't have survived." She set the crystal aside, her expression unreadable.

"The necrotic poisoning alone should have killed you within minutes. The fact that you lasted long enough for us to administer the antidote..." She shook her head slightly. "I've been a healer for forty years. I've never seen anyone survive that level of contamination."

I blinked. Then shook my head.

Thank you, Vivienne, I thought bitterly. Your years of poisoning me finally paid off.

The irony wasn't lost on me. All those meals laced with small doses of toxins, building up my resistance bit by bit.

And now that resistance had saved my life.

When I get back to you, I'll break one less bone or maybe two. For what you did to me and Agnes.

But you're still going to pay.

"I suppose I'm lucky," I said aloud, my voice still rough.

The Healer's eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't challenge it.

"Lucky, stubborn, or cursed, I haven't decided which." She checked the crystal readings one more time, then tucked it back into her robes. "Instructor Aldwin is waiting to speak with you. He's been here every day since you were brought in."

I blinked. "Every day?"

That's new, an instructor waiting for me? No less the head instructor from the entrance exam?

"Every day." She moved toward the door, and she was gone, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to gather my scattered thoughts.

Aldwin wants to talk. About what? The exam? Did I pass? Did I—

The door opened again.

Instructor Aldwin entered first. He looked the same as always, severe expression, military posture, the kind of presence that made you straighten your spine instinctively.

Behind him came Taryn, the younger instructor. He looked nervous, fidgeting with a leather satchel.

Aldwin's eyes found mine immediately. For a moment, something flickered across his face, relief, maybe, or something close to it before the professional mask settled back into place.

"Raith," he said, approaching the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, sir," I said automatically.

His eyebrow raised fractionally. "Good."

"Yes, sir."

"You look like death warmed over, but if you say you're good, who am I to argue?" There was something almost dry in his tone. Almost humorous.

I didn't know how to respond to that.

Aldwin pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat. Taryn remained standing near the door, still clutching that satchel like it might escape.

"I'll get straight to the point," Aldwin said. "You passed."

The words took a moment to register.

Passed.

I'd passed.

I was staying at the Academy. Not repeating the year. Not going home in disgrace.

A smile cracked across my face. Relief flooded through me.

I did it. I actually did it.

The memory hit me suddenly, bursting through the dungeon entrance into sunlight, the guardian's blade stopping inches from my head, the collapse, the darkness.

Then suddenly—

Pain exploded behind my eyes.

Sharp. Like someone had driven a spike through my skull.

I gasped, my hand flying to my head, pressing against my temples as if I could physically hold my brain together.

"Jin—!" Taryn moved forward immediately, his hand on my shoulder, steadying me as I swayed. "You okay?"

The pain receded slowly, reluctantly, leaving behind that familiar dull throb.

"Yeah," I managed, breathing hard. "Just... headache."

Taryn stepped forward, his nervousness fading into something more excited. "What you did in there was remarkable, Jin. Seriously, it was impressive."

I smiled weakly, thinking about how I'd nearly died pathetically at least three times. How I hadn't even killed the guardian, just grabbed the stone and ran like hell. How I'd survived through luck and desperation more than skill.

"Thanks," I said anyway.

Aldwin's expression shifted, became more serious, more formal. He straightened in his chair.

"There's something else," he said. "Something I need to say."

I waited.

He inclined his head. Not a bow, exactly, but a definite gesture of respect. Or acknowledgment.

"I apologize."

I blinked. "What?"

"For sending you into that dungeon." His voice was steady.

"It wasn't supposed to be survivable at all," Taryn interjected, then winced as Aldwin shot him a look. "What? It's true—"

"Taryn."

"Right. Shutting up."

Aldwin turned back to me, his expression grave. "What I'm saying is that you were placed in a situation that shouldn't have happened. And for that, I apologize."

He nodded at Taryn, who immediately opened the leather satchel and pulled out a heavy coin purse. It clinked with the unmistakable sound of metal on metal.

Taryn set it on the table beside my bed. The purse was bulging, clearly full.

"Compensation," Taryn said, his tone more official now. "For the extreme circumstances and considerable danger you faced beyond the parameters of a standard examination. The Academy takes responsibility for the oversight."

I stared at the purse, not quite comprehending.

"There's also this," Aldwin added. He produced a small wooden case from his jacket and opened it, revealing a silver coin about the size of my palm.

It bore the Academy's crest on one side, and on the other, a single engraved word: "VALOR."

"This is awarded for exceptional performance in the face of overwhelming odds," Aldwin said quietly. "Fewer than ten are given out per year across all Academy branches."

My mouth went dry. "I... sir, I—"

"You cleared a C-rank dungeon. Solo. As a first year." Aldwin's eyes met mine directly. "Whatever you think about how you did it, however scared you were, however close you came to failing, the fact remains that you did it. You retrieved the core stone. You survived. Against impossible odds."

He closed the case and set it beside the coin purse.

"Come to my office when you've recovered. We'll discuss your official results and..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Your capabilities. How you accomplished what you did ."

Aldwin stood, his chair scraping against the floor.

Taryn gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up, grinning like an idiot. "Seriously, man. That was incredible. You're gonna be famous."

They moved toward the door.

And then they were gone, the door closing behind them.

I sat there, staring at the space where they'd been standing.

My mouth hung open.

No words came.

C... rank.

C-rank dungeon.

I'd survived a C-rank dungeon.

The realization hit.

Holy shit.

I dropped back against the pillows, my hands moving to clutch my hair, fingers tangling in the strands.

"Holy fuck," I whispered to the empty room. "Holy fuck that was a C-rank dungeon. Not E."

The guardian. The Wight. The collapsing corridors. The hundreds of undead.

All C-rank.

And I'd survived it.

My hands were shaking. I couldn't tell if it was from delayed shock or the sheer absurdity of what I'd just learned.

I started laughing.

Quietly at first, then louder, the sound coming out broken and slightly unhinged.

I'd passed.

I'd cleared a C-rank dungeon.

Alone.

The laughter died slowly, leaving me staring at the white ceiling again.

My body hurt. My head hurt. Everything hurt.

But somehow, impossibly, I was still alive.

I survived.

The thought repeated itself over and over, like my brain couldn't quite process it.

Eventually, exhaustion pulled at me, heavy and insistent.

I let my eyes close, my hands still tangled in my hair, the coin purse and medal case sitting on the table beside me.

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