Arjun hadn't waited long before footsteps approached from the forest path.
Divya was the first to emerge.
She walked steadily, but Arjun immediately noticed the shallow cuts along her arm and the faint limp in her stride. Nothing life-threatening—still, injuries were injuries.
"You're hurt," Arjun said, straightening.
Divya waved it off with a tired smile. "Just minor injuries. I've already treated most of it. For the remaining, I'll use some pastes"
As she stepped closer, the leaf symbol on her palm glowed faintly.
"But I Levelled up," she added calmly. "And…collected thirty-four percent of the wood core fragments."
Arjun exhaled in relief. "Good. That's more than enough for a day."
She leaned against the wall beside him, letting her shoulders relax. "Solo hunting is harder than it looks," she admitted quietly. "But now I understand why the Tower forces it."
Before Arjun could respond, another presence made itself known.
Tim returned next, dragging the remains of a monster behind him, sweat soaking his clothes. Not long after, Koushik appeared, looking exhausted but grinning, followed by Rita, who moved carefully but with clear determination in her eyes.
One by one, they regrouped near the town gate.
Everyone had injuries—scratches, bruises, strained muscles—but everyone was standing.
"That was… rough," Tim muttered, dropping his pack. "Whoever designed this rule hates teamwork."
Koushik laughed weakly. "Or wants to see who can survive without it."
Rita smiled softly. "At least now we know we can."
Once everyone had confirmed their gains, they headed toward the processing area near the gate. The guards and clerks there were busy, accepting monster bodies and tagging them for verification.
The sound of coins clinking filled the air as the monsters were appraised and sold. Wood-type beasts were in high demand; core materials, bark plates, and regenerative fibres fetched reasonable prices.
"Not bad," Arjun said, glancing at the coins handed to him. "This should cover supplies for a while."
After settling their sales, the group made their way toward the tallest building near the center of town—the town hall.
Unlike the bustle outside, the inside of the hall was orderly and cold. Stone floors echoed underfoot, and system-bound clerks sat behind long counters etched with glowing runes.
A placard near the entrance read clearly:
LEVEL ADVANCEMENT TAX — MANDATORY REGISTRATION
"…Figures," Koushik muttered.
They approached the counter together.
The clerk barely looked up. "Names. Current levels. Attribute progress."
One by one, they reported.
As each declaration was made, the runes flared, confirming the information directly from the system. A small portion of their earned coins was siphoned away, dissolving into light.
"Tax paid," the clerk said flatly after the final confirmation. "Failure to register level advancement will result in penalties."
Rita frowned slightly. "Even growth is taxed."
Divya shrugged. "The Tower never gives anything for free."
When they stepped back outside, the sky had darkened into deep violet, lanterns flickering to life across the town.
Despite the exhaustion weighing on them, there was a shared sense of satisfaction.
They had survived their first true day of solo growth.
They had adapted.
And tomorrow, the Tower would expect even more.
As they walked together through the dimly lit streets, Arjun glanced at his companions—injured, tired, but unbroken.
"This," he thought, "is how real climbing begins."
By the time they left the town hall, night had fully settled over the domain. Lantern light painted the streets in warm gold, and the exhaustion that had been held back by tension finally caught up with everyone.
"I don't care where we eat," Tim said, rubbing his stomach. "Just give me food. A lot of it."
Koushik laughed. "For once, we agree."
They ended up at a well-lit restaurant near the central square. The place was busy—hunters, outlanders, and natives alike filling the long wooden tables. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat, herbs, and freshly baked bread. For the first time since entering the Tower, the noise felt comforting instead of threatening.
They ordered without restraint.
Plates arrived one after another: slow-roasted boar glazed in a sweet, smoky sauce; bowls of thick vegetable stew that steamed gently in the cool air; skewers of grilled forest beasts seasoned with crushed spices; soft bread still warm from the oven. There was even a pitcher of lightly fermented fruit drink that eased the ache in their muscles.
For a while, no one spoke.
Only the clatter of cutlery and the quiet sounds of people eating filled the table.
"This…" Koushik said between bites, "is the best thing I've had since the Tower started."
Rita smiled faintly, savoring a spoonful of stew. "It tastes like rest."
Arjun ate more slowly, feeling warmth spread through his chest with every bite. The food wasn't just filling—it grounded him, reminding him that they were still human, still alive.
Divya watched them with soft eyes, relief slowly replacing the tension she had carried all day.
After the last plates were cleared and the bill was paid, fatigue returned in full force.
"We've got enough money now," Arjun said as they stepped outside. "Let's get separate rooms tonight. Proper rest."
No one argued.
They checked into a nearby inn—simple but clean. One by one, they parted ways in the hallway, exchanging quiet goodnights and half-smiles.
Arjun entered his room and sat on the edge of the bed.
The silence felt heavier than the forest.
He stared at his hands, at the faint leaf symbol glowing on his palm. The fights. The system messages. The rules. The pressure.
And then—
His mother.
He stood abruptly.
Without overthinking it, Arjun stepped back into the hallway and walked to the room he knew was hers. He raised his hand, hesitated for half a second, then knocked.
"Mom," he said softly. "It's me."
The door swung open instantly.
Before Arjun could say anything else, Divya pulled him into her arms.
She held him tightly, as if afraid he might disappear if she let go. Her shoulders trembled, and warm tears soaked into his shirt.
"You're safe," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You're really safe."
Arjun froze for a moment—then his arms wrapped around her on their own.
"I'm here," he said quietly. "I'm okay."
All the strength Divya had shown outside—on the battlefield, in front of others—crumbled in that instant. She cried without restraint, years of worry and today's fear pouring out at once.
"I watched you fight," she said between sobs. "I watched you walk into danger like it was normal. No mother should have to see that."
Arjun swallowed hard. "If I don't get stronger, it'll be worse later. You know that."
"I do," she said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. Her eyes were red, but steady. "That's what scares me."
They stood there for a long moment, the dim lamplight casting their shadows across the room.
Divya finally took a breath and wiped her eyes. "Come in. We should talk."
Arjun nodded.
Tonight wasn't about levels or fragments.
It was about a mother and her son—trying to survive a world that no longer showed mercy.