Chapter 58: Three days countdown
The guild’s recovery ward was a quiet room near the back of the observatory, its walls lined with soft blue wards that pulsed with restorative magic. Designed for both Climbers and summons—a place where bonds could heal, shattered forms coaxed back into shape.
The party gathered in a loose circle. Garrett held his Heal Crystal, turning it over in his fingers. Dillon did the same, his usual humor still absent but his eyes sharper, more focused. Nathan held the third crystal, its pale blue light reflecting in his palm.
Garrett went first. He pressed the crystal to his summon mark—the faint red glow that had been pulsing weakly since Floor 7—and crushed it. The crystal dissolved into streams of pale blue light that sank into the mark. The red glow brightened immediately. Pulsed once. Twice. Steadied into something warm and strong.
Garrett exhaled a long, shaky breath he’d been holding since the extraction. "I can feel him. Red. He’s closer to full recovery. Stronger." His voice cracked. "Three days. Valerie said three days."
"Yeah, Three days" Nathan confirmed.
Dillon followed. The crystal dissolved over his mark, and the static crackle of his Cloud Serpent returned—faint at first, then stronger, a dance of blue-white sparks around his wrist. The silence that had haunted him since Floor 8 lifted. He didn’t speak, but his shoulders relaxed for the first time since the extraction. His trembling hand grew still.
Nathan looked at the last crystal. His summon mark throbbed—Mirko’s presence, still faint, still distant, waiting.
He crushed the crystal.
Warmth flooded through the bond. Not the sharp heat of forced recall, but a gentle, restorative warmth that spread from his mark through his entire body. Green light pulsed beneath his skin—Mirko’s light, surging from a faint whisper to a steady, familiar hum.
And then her voice:
’Master.’
Stronger now. Tired, he could hear the exhaustion beneath the words, the lingering weight of having her form shattered but present. Herself. The dramatic, proud, insufferable Knight he’d summoned on graduation day.
"Welcome back," Nathan said quietly.
’I never left. I was simply resting.’
"Sure you were."
’I was!"
Nathan smiled.
---
Back home, the apartment door opened before Nathan could reach for the handle.
Lucy crashed into him like a small, determined meteor, arms wrapping around his waist with enough force to make him stagger. She’d clearly been waiting by the door—Mrs. Chen must have messaged her the moment the guild transport was spotted entering the city.
"You’re okay!" Her voice was muffled against his shirt. "I was so worried! Mrs. Chen said no news is good news but I missed you and Mirko and Kuro so so so so much, i—"
"Lucy." Nathan knelt to her level, hands on her shoulders. "I’m okay. We’re all okay. We didn’t clear the Tower. We had to retreat. But everyone’s alive." He touched his summon mark. "Mirko’s recovering. She’ll be back in a few days." He gestured to the black bunny on his shoulder. "Kuro’s right here."
Lucy’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. She looked at Kuro, who sat motionless, watching with quiet attention.
"Kuro didn’t get hurt?" Lucy asked.
’I was the last one standing,’ Kuro said through the link. Nathan translated.
Lucy nodded solemnly. Then she reached up and scooped Kuro into her arms. Kuro went rigid for exactly half a second before relaxing into the hug with long-suffering dignity.
’The small human is squeezing me again,’ Kuro observed.
’You get used to it,’ Mirko’s voice came through the link, faint but warm. ’Eventually. Mostly.’
"So." Lucy looked up at Nathan, chin resting on Kuro’s dark fur. "You lost?"
Nathan exhaled. "Yeah. We lost."
"But you’re going back?"
"We’re going back."
Lucy considered this for a moment. Then she nodded, apparently satisfied. "Mhm, alright. Can I make you toast?"
"Please."
The toast burned slightly. Just a little black around the edges. Lucy looked at it with frustration, but Nathan took the plate and ate it anyway. It was the best thing he’d tasted in days.
---
Night fell over the capital. The Towers gleamed against the dark sky. distant silhouettes of silver, obsidian, and pale gold. Somewhere out there, the Tower of Ash still stood. Still uncleared. Still pulsing with its crimson mana veins, indifferent to the party that had failed to conquer it.
But that was a problem for another day.
Nathan lay on the bed, back against the headboard. Lucy was asleep beside him, one hand resting on Kuro’s dark fur. The Shadow Assassin had curled into a small black ball on the pillow, breathing slow and steady. Mirko’s presence hummed warmly in Nathan’s summon mark... still recovering, still a few days from manifestation, but stronger now. Closer.
He held Moonlight up to the window. The Tyrant’s Eye caught the starlight and swirled it into silver patterns across the ceiling. A reminder of the Colosseum. Of victory. Of everything they’d done right before they’d started doing things wrong.
’What are you thinking about, Summoner?’ Kuro’s voice was quiet through the link. Her eyes were still closed.
Nathan lowered the bow. "About the climb. About what we did wrong. About what we’ll do differently." He paused. "About the fact that losing once doesn’t mean we’ll lose again. And that even if we do, it’s going to be alright."
’Mhm.’
"That’s it? Just ’mhm’?"
’You have already reached the correct conclusion. There is nothing to add.’
Nathan smiled faintly. He set Moonlight aside and lay back against the pillow. Lucy shifted in her sleep, her hand tightening on Kuro’s fur. The Shadow Assassin didn’t stir.
Tomorrow, training would resume. Tomorrow, the climb back toward strength would continue. Tomorrow, he’d gather his party and start preparing for the rematch.
But tonight, he had his bow—B-Rank, forged from the spoils of his victories. He had his summons—Mirko recovering, Kuro steady, both still his, still fighting. He had his sister, safe and warm beside him. He had his friends: Garrett, Dillon, Elise, all battered but unbroken, all ready to climb again.
That was enough.
Nathan closed his eyes. The Leyline Ring hummed on his finger. Moonlight gleamed on the bedside table. And somewhere in the warmth of his summon mark, Mirko’s presence pulsed with quiet, steady life.
Three days before they resume climbing again.
