The wind outside the cave still howled, but the thick walls of rock made it feel distant and far away.
Inside, the ragged, heavy breathing of two exhausted players gradually settled into silence.
Above Kiriya's head, that ominous red glow pulsed faintly in the enclosed space, flickering like a broken neon sign and casting his sharp features in flashes of shadow and light.
He sat leaning against the wall, gaze unfocused, fingers absentmindedly rubbing the hilt of his sword.
Then, right on cue, gurgle! His stomach growled loudly. The sound echoed through the cave, embarrassingly loud in the silence.
Kiriya: "..."
He coughed lightly, as if that might erase the sound.
Beside him, Lina let out a quiet laugh, so soft it was nearly swallowed by the crackle of the campfire she was starting to build.
She had already begun taking out a metal stand and a fire striker from her system inventory.
"Let's make a fire," she said, her voice back to its usual cool tone, but if you listened carefully, there was a faint softness in it. "It'll keep the cold away, and maybe… tone down that flashy 'status effect' of yours a little."
She tilted her chin toward the glaring red glow above his head, her words carrying a trace of teasing.
With practiced ease, she pulled out several dry pieces of wood and tinder from her inventory—clearly standard supplies for adventuring.
Soon, a small bonfire was crackling in the center of the cave.
The dancing flames pushed back the darkness and chilled air, and even seemed to suppress the intensity of the crimson glow above Kiriya's head.
What remained was a dimmer, softer red light that flickered against the stone walls.
The warmth from the fire seemed to melt away the tension that had gripped them. Lina glanced at her shoulder wound.
Injuries in the game healed quickly, but the earlier fight and lingering poison effects had left her severely drained—both her hunger and fatigue bars were flashing reminders that she needed to replenish herself.
"Hungry?" she asked casually, already pulling out several pieces of fresh boar meat wrapped in clean leaves, a small pouch of spices, a tiny jar of honey, and even a handful of wild berries.
"Good thing I didn't sell these off when I was clearing my bag," she said with a trace of pride, as though showing off her foresight. She even shot Kiriya a sideways look, as if to say, See? I told you this would come in handy.
Kiriya couldn't help but watch as she kept pulling items out of her inventory—like some kind of squirrel stashing away treasures—until she even produced a portable grill.
"...Do you have a four-dimensional pocket or something? Just how much random stuff do you keep in there?" he muttered, though his eyes were already following the ingredients with interest.
"That's called being prepared," Lina shot back, quickly skewering the meat and sprinkling salt and spices over it before setting it on the grill.
"Better than someone who only packs bread and health potions."
Her voice dropped to a mock whisper at the end, but the corners of her mouth curved up slightly.
"Wait, so you even carry spices around with you?"
"Would you rather eat tasteless system bread?" she countered, one brow arched, looking as though her answer should be obvious.
Kiriya sighed in defeat. "Fine, you win. If you ever open a restaurant, I'll be your first customer."
Soon, the rich, mouthwatering smell of roasting meat filled the cave, blending with the scent of burning wood and somehow washing away the lingering stench of blood and battle.
Kiriya leaned back against the stone wall, watching Lina as she carefully turned the skewers, occasionally brushing on a bit of honey to make the meat turn golden and crisp.
The firelight traced the lines of her face, highlighting the soft but determined curve of her profile. Stray strands of her snow-white hair fell across her forehead, which she casually tucked behind her ear. Her motions were calm and deliberate—so different from the fierce, commanding knight who had just moments ago held the line on the battlefield.
A strange, quiet warmth began to settle over Kiriya, wrapping around him like an invisible blanket.
Almost without realizing it, his eyes stayed fixed on her—on the way the firelight danced in her clear, icy-blue eyes, on the way her lips pressed together in faint concentration...
"Hey," Lina said suddenly, without looking at him, still focused on the meat. "I know my cooking is decent, but if you keep staring like that, I might start thinking the poison messed with your vision." Her tone was teasingly light, but her ears flushed a faint pink.
Kiriya snapped out of it, coughed awkwardly, and tried to look away—then thought better of it, realizing that would be too obvious.
He ended up scratching his nose and said, as evenly as he could manage, "...Just evaluating if that's enough food to recover all the HP I lost. Someone was just a little too good at keeping aggro, so my healer had a rough time."
Lina turned to give him a mock glare, though her eyes were smiling. "Oh? Then take this first skewer of 'massive healing' meat as an apology."
She held out a perfectly grilled skewer, the meat glistening with honey and sizzling lightly.
Kiriya took it. It was warm against his palm, and the smell was irresistible. He blew on it once before taking a careful bite.
The outside was crispy and golden, the inside tender and juicy. The simple seasoning and touch of honey gave it just the right amount of flavor, far beyond anything the system's standard rations could offer.
[System Message: You have eaten [Lina's Special Roast]. Hunger cleared. HP restored +50%. Stamina restored +35%. Mood improved.]
The notification confirmed the quality of the food.
"...Not bad," he said, trying to sound indifferent, but immediately taking another big bite.
"Just 'not bad'?" Lina raised a brow, grabbing a skewer for herself and taking a small bite. "Maybe next time you should cook for yourself, Mr. Picky Gourmet."
"Considering I'm still the primary VIP target," Kiriya replied seriously, pointing at his still-glowing red name, "it's much more cost-efficient to leave such work to the knight."
She almost laughed out loud at his deadpan logic, barely managing to keep a straight face.
"Hmph, just because you're red-named doesn't mean you get special treatment. Careful—next time I might add a special sauce to your portion."
The threat was mock-serious, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away.
They kept trading light jabs as they ate, the cave filled only with the sound of crackling fire and quiet chewing. The air had turned warm, peaceful—almost cozy.
When they were done, Kiriya let out a satisfied sigh and leaned against the wall again, feeling both his HP and stamina steadily recovering.
He cast a sidelong glance at Lina, who was quietly finishing her meal. The firelight danced across her focused profile, giving it a glow that felt softer than anything he'd seen during battle.
After a short silence, Kiriya seemed to remember something. He rummaged through his inventory for a moment before pulling out two items—two water flasks. He handed one to Lina.
"Here."
She took it, surprised. The bottle was cool in her hand, faintly damp with condensation.
"What's this?"
"Water. I grabbed some from the stream earlier and treated it with purification powder." He uncorked his own flask and took a swig. "All that meat gets heavy after a while. Not as good as your honey-roasted feast, but better than choking on dry bread."
He spoke casually, like it was no big deal, but Lina knew better. In the middle of their desperate escape, he had still noticed the stream, stopped to collect water, and taken the time to make it safe to drink.
That wasn't just "casual." That was survival instinct honed to the bone, and a kind of quiet, wordless thoughtfulness she didn't quite know how to name.
She lowered her head, uncorked the flask, and took a long drink. The cool water washed away the heaviness of the meat, refreshing and clean.
"...Thanks," she said softly after a while.
"No need. We're partners in crime, remember?" Kiriya replied with a faint grin before drinking again himself.
The red glow above his head briefly lit his jawline as he tilted the flask. For once, that cursed, ominous light looked less threatening—more like the mark of someone with a story to tell.
Lina's eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at it. "How long does your red name last?"
"The system says seventy-two hours of in-game time." He lowered the flask, his tone calm and almost casual.
"Or I can grind it down by killing specific mobs or completing certain hidden quests. Basically, it's a pain." He shrugged, looking like he had already resigned himself to the situation.