`[System: Host's consciousness fading. Activating emergency Prana resuscitation...]`
`[System: Consuming 500 Prana. Stimulating nervous system.]`
"Cough! Ack! Damn it!"
Aristha’s eyes snapped open as his lungs violently convulsed, spitting out a mouthful of freezing, muddy river water. He dragged his screaming muscles forward, his fingers clawing desperately into the wet, squelching mud of the riverbank. He gasped for air, his chest burning like hot coals as he used every ounce of his remaining strength to pull a second, limp body out of the churning torrent.
"Gayatri! Hey! Wake up!" He pressed his hands against her chest, pumping frantically. "Come on, breathe! Don't do this to me. I didn't jump off a cliff just to watch you drown on the shore!"
`[System: Target's airway is clear. Initiating mild electrical stimulation to stimulate cardiopulmonary reflex. Cost: 100 Prana.]`
"Do it! Just do it!" Aristha yelled.
Zzap.
"Cough!" Gayatri convulsed, her head jerking sideways as she vomited up a rush of freezing river water. She gasped, her chest heaving violently, but her eyes remained closed, her skin deathly pale and shivering in the dark.
"Thank God," Aristha wheezed, collapsing backward onto the wet mud. "System, status report."
`[System: Current Prana: 3,390. Target's core body temperature: 31.5°C. Severe hypothermia detected. Survival probability: 35% if left untreated.]`
"Thirty-five percent? Are you kidding me?" Aristha forced himself back up on trembling knees. He looked around the dark, misty forest surrounding the riverbank. "Where's the nearest shelter?"
`[System: Scanning... Dilapidated structure located 50 meters northwest. High thermal isolation potential.]`
"Right. Let's go." He hoisted her over his shoulder, groaning as his sore muscles screamed. "Seriously, Gayatri... you need to eat fewer royal pastries when we get out of this."
*
Aristha kicked open the rotting wooden door of the ancient, abandoned shrine.
"Smells like mold and regret," Aristha muttered, gently laying her down on a dry bed of dusty leaves in the corner. "But it's dry. System, can we get a fire going?"
`[System: Dead wood detected nearby. Directing Prana to ignite. Cost: 50 Prana.]`
"Do it."
With a small whoosh, a pile of dry twigs in the corner of the stone shrine burst into a warm, flickering orange flame. The light danced across the cracked stone walls and the headless statue of some ancient deity.
Aristha knelt beside Gayatri. Her lips were turning blue, her wet silk robes clinging to her body like a freezing second skin.
"Okay. Cold hard logic time," Aristha muttered, rubbing his temples. "Those wet robes are literally keeping her frozen. I have to strip them."
He hesitated, staring at her beautiful, pale face.
"I'm just an extra. I shouldn't have main-character privileges like this," Aristha whispered. "System, is there any other way? A magic hair dryer? A thermal barrier?"
`[System: Negative. Conductive cooling from wet fabrics will bypass any spiritual barrier. Immediate removal of wet clothing is recommended.]`
"Great. Just great. If she wakes up and kills me, I'm blaming you, System."
Aristha reached down, his hands shaking slightly as he unbuttoned the heavy, gold-trimmed outer coat of her royal robes.
"No weird thoughts, Aristha," he muttered to himself, peeling away the heavy, waterlogged fabric. "You're a doctor. Well, not a doctor, but a guy who wants to live. It's a medical emergency. Purely professional."
Underneath the heavy silk was a thin, white linen undergarment. It was completely translucent from the water, clinging tightly to the curves of her waist and chest.
Aristha swallowed hard, his face flushing hotter than the campfire.
"Damn... the author of this novel really spent three paragraphs describing her physical proportions, and honestly, they under-delivered." He shook his head violently. "Stop it! Focus! Fire! Warmth!"
He dragged her closer to the crackling fire, laying her on her side. He took off his own damp outer tunic, wringing it out before hanging it near the flames.
`[System: Target's core temperature is stabilizing. Rate of recovery: slow. Direct physical contact recommended to accelerate thermal transfer.]`
"Whoa, hold on, System!" Aristha barked, waving his hands. "I'm not trying to get executed twice in one day! If she wakes up and finds me cuddling her, she'll castrate me!"
`[System: Host's survival is linked to the target's survival. If 'Ni Luh Putu Gayatri' dies, the Taksu System's primary anchor will destabilize.]`
"Wait, what? You're telling me I'm bound to her?"
`[System: Correct. She is a core pillar of this world's destiny. Your presence has already altered the timeline. Her death will cause a temporal collapse.]`
"So if she dies, I die?" Aristha groaned, rubbing his face. "Fine! Fine! I'll do it. But I'm keeping my pants on."
He carefully lay down behind her, wrapping his arms around her shivering waist, pulling her cold back against his chest. The warmth of his newly upgraded 'Spiritual Apprentice' body began to radiate into her.
"You're freezing, Gayatri," Aristha whispered, his chin resting near her wet hair. "Just stay alive, okay? We made it past chapter one. Don't ruin my streak."
*
For a few hours, there was only the sound of the crackling fire and the howling wind outside.
Then, Gayatri's body began to tense. Her breathing turned shallow and rapid.
"No..." she whimpered, her head thrashing from side to side. "Rama... please... I didn't do it... I didn't steal the relic..."
"Gayatri?" Aristha whispered, shifting slightly. "Hey, wake up. It's just a nightmare."
"You promised!" she suddenly shrieked, her eyes flying open. They were wild, bloodshot, and completely devoid of sanity. "You liar! You betrayed me!"
"Whoa! Gayatri, calm down!"
Before Aristha could react, she turned around, her fingers curling into claws as she lashed out at his face.
Slash!
"Ow! What the hell?!" Aristha flinched as her nails scratched his cheek.
"Get away from me! You're one of his guards! You're going to drag me back to the dungeon!" she screamed, her voice hoarse and raw. She tried to scramble backward, her bare feet slipping on the dusty floor, heading straight for the open doorway and the freezing rain outside.
"Gayatri, stop! You'll freeze to death!" Aristha lunged forward, grabbing her ankle.
"Let me go! Let me go!" she cried, kicking him in the chest with her free leg. "I'd rather die! I'd rather die in the woods than let you touch me!"
"Are you out of your mind?!" Aristha roared.
He yanked her back, pinning her down onto the dusty leaves. He threw his weight over her, grabbing her wrists and slamming them against the floor on either side of her head.
"Let me go, you monster!" she thrashed violently beneath him, her hips bucking, her teeth bared as she tried to bite his shoulder. "Kill me! Just kill me already! Why do you keep torturing me?!"
"Look at me!" Aristha yelled, his face inches from hers. "Look at my face, Gayatri!"
She froze for a fraction of a second, her chest heaving against his, her wild eyes trying to focus through the dark.
"Am I Rama?" Aristha demanded, his voice dropping into a deep, commanding growl. "Am I one of those smug, gold-plated royal guards?"
"You..." she whimpered, her lips trembling. "You're... Aristha..."
"Yes! Aristha! The guy who got kicked in the ribs, almost got his head chopped off, blew up a scaffold, jumped off a fifty-foot cliff, and dragged your heavy royal butt out of a freezing river!" He stared down at her, his eyes cold, grounding, and completely serious. "I didn't do all of that just to watch you run out into the storm and die of a cold."
Gayatri stared up at him, her breathing still ragged, but the frantic, wild terror in her eyes slowly began to crack, replaced by a deep, hollow exhaustion.
"Why...?" she whispered, a single tear cutting through the dirt on her cheek. "Why did you save me? Everyone else... everyone I loved... they all wanted me dead."
"Because I'm not them," Aristha said quietly, his grip on her wrists loosening just a fraction, though he didn't let go. "And I don't let my partners die."
She stared at him, her lips parting slightly, her gaze locked onto his.
Just as the tension in the room reached a boiling point, a low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows outside the ruined doorway.
`[System: Alert. Hostile spiritual beast detected. Level 2: Shadow Fang Wolf. Distance: 10 meters.]`
Aristha’s eyes widened as two glowing red eyes materialized in the dark rain outside.
"Well," Aristha muttered, slowly letting go of her wrists as he reached for a half-burnt piece of wood from the fire. "It looks like our welcoming committee has arrived."
Latest Chapter
Chapter 100: The Horizon’s Edge
The sun crested the jagged peaks of the western range, cutting a sharp line of golden light across the frost-rimed grass of the mountain trail.Aristha adjusted his heavy woolen collar, his fingers stiff against the biting wind as he pulled the reins taut. He checked the cinch on his saddle, wincing as a sharp twinge of pain flared along his ribs, before urging his mount forward onto the narrow, gravel-strewn path.Gayatri fell into step beside him, her gaze scanning the ridgeline above. Her hand rested easily, almost casually, on the worn hilt of her hunting knife."Your left stirrup is hanging an inch too low," Gayatri said, her voice cutting cleanly through the whistling mountain wind. "You’re favoring your right side like a wounded hound. If we have to bolt down this shale slope, you'll unseat yourself before we clear the first bend.""Let me worry about my stirrups, Gayatri," Aristha replied, his tone dry, though he reached down and yanked the leather strap up a notch anyway. "Fo
Chapter 99: The Campfire Confession
"If you keep hunching your shoulders like that, the bone is going to knit crooked, and you’ll spend the rest of your miserable life listing to the left like a foundering barge," Gayatri said, not looking up as she dragged the jagged edge of her hunting knife through a stubborn thread on her torn sleeve.Aristha didn’t answer immediately. He stared down at the thick, damp pages of the stolen ledger, the single dying flame of their hidden campfire casting long, distorted shadows across his hollow cheeks. The smell of burning dry pine and wet wool hung heavy in the damp mountain air, a sharp contrast to the biting chill rolling down from the western peaks."Let it knit crooked," Aristha finally rasped, his voice dry as winter brush. "A crooked man fits in better in this world anyway. Straight lines only make you a clearer target for the archers."Gayatri scoffed, snipping the thread with a sharp snap of her teeth. "That’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it? Cynicism wrapped in bad post
Chapter 98: The Mountain Pass West
"Swing the left girth tighter or the saddle will pitch the moment we hit the incline," Aristha muttered, his breath pluming white in the freezing pre-dawn air as he winced, his fingers fumbling with the coarse leather strap.Gayatri didn't look up from her own mount, her hands yanking the heavy iron buckle into place with a sharp, metallic snap that echoed across the deserted stable yard. "If I pull it any tighter, this miserable beast will split in half, and I'd rather walk than carry a dying horse up a cliff.""You won't be walking," Aristha retorted, his voice tight with suppressed pain as he hauled himself upward, his boot catching the stirrup with a clumsy, halting motion that made him hiss through clenched teeth. "Not with three Kalinga patrols currently sweeping the low road for anyone missing a set of teeth or a forged tax seal."Gayatri vaulted smoothly into her saddle, her eyes darting toward the jagged silhouette of the western range looming like a broken jaw against the pa
Chapter 97: Leaving the Scribe Behind
"Vane! Get up!" Gayatri yelled, kicking the leg of the overturned chair as the smell of burning lamp oil thickened in the cramped, smoke-filled room.The old scribe blinked rapidly through a crust of dried blood over his left eye, his shoulders still tightly bound to the wood with heavy hemp rope. "The ledgers," he rasped, his voice sounding like dry parchment scraping across stone. "The central tax rolls from the third district... they're still in the floor cache beneath my boots.""We don't care about your tax rolls, old man!" Gayatri snapped, dropping to her knees and slicing through the thick hemp ropes with her hunting knife in two jagged, furious strokes. "The whole front alley is swarming with Kalinga patrols, and you're worried about third-district receipts?""They're my life's work," Vane wheezed, stumbling forward the moment the ropes fell away, his knees buckling before Aristha caught him by the collar with a harsh, unyielding grip."Your life's work is currently catching f
Chapter 96: The Ink-Stained Scuffle
"Move, Gayatri! The window!" Aristha wheezed, his knuckles turning chalk-white as he gripped the stone sill.Gayatri vaulted over the high stone casement, her boots finding purchase on the slick, rain-lashed slate of the roof just as a pair of heavy crossbow bolts splintered the wooden frame she had occupied a microsecond earlier."They're shooting!" she snarled, dropping low into a sprinter's crouch as she dragged the damp leather-bound ledger closer to her chest."Keep moving toward the laundry line!" Aristha ordered, his voice cracking with the sheer, agonizing effort of drawing air into his tightly bound ribs.He leaned out from the recess of the narrow alleyway below, his eyes scanning the chaotic gap between the rooftops. The rain came down in relentless sheets, blurring the edges of the slate tiles and turning the masonry into a grease-slick trap. Gayatri hit the apex of the roof, her arms pumping as she scrambled across the steep incline, ignoring the burning ache in her shoul
Chapter 95: The Scribe’s Betrayal (Almost)
"Move, Gayatri! The window!" Aristha wheezed, his knuckles turning chalk-white as he gripped the stone sill to keep his knees from buckling completely under him.Below, the alleyway dissolved into a rushing sluice of mud and gray rain, but the sound of iron-shod boots slamming against the masonry inside the archive building drowned out the storm. Gayatri didn't waste a breath on a retort. She vaulted over the high stone casement with the fluid, desperate grace of a hunted wolf, her boots finding purchase on the slick, rain-lashed slate of the roof just as a pair of heavy crossbow bolts splintered the wooden frame she had occupied a microsecond earlier."They're shooting!" she snarled, dropping low into a sprinter's crouch as she dragged the damp leather-bound ledger closer to her chest."Keep moving toward the laundry line!" Aristha ordered, his voice cracking with the sheer, agonizing effort of drawing air into his tightly bound ribs. He was already leaning out from the recess of the
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