"Ow! That stings!" I yelped as the healer slapped a gauze soaked in alcohol onto a cut on my arm.

"Oh, don't be a child!" she snapped. "You've suffered worse."

I winced. "I know, Miss Casey, but it's still rubbing alcohol on an open, gaping wound."

"Why not just heal it directly?" I questioned.

Casey, the healer, huffed. "Don't want any nasty microbes infecting the area after I close up the wound!"

"Besides, why are you even here? With your strand, this wound could be closed in the blink of an eye!" she retorted.

I scratched my cheek with a sheepish grin. "Wounds caused by daemons take longer for me to heal. I would've let my strand do the healing, but Iris nagged me to come to Althea and fix the wound."

"She specifically told me to come to you," I added, looking at Miss Casey.

Understanding dawned on the healer's face. Her lips curled into an excited smile, and a crazy glint appeared in her eyes.

"Oho! I see the Fairy of Tenebris has come through with her promise."

I suddenly had a bad feeling about this. "What do you mean, Miss Casey?"

She gave me a smile that made every instinct in my body scream to get away. "I just completed my special alcohol mixture that eradicates one hundred percent of germs!"

"It is a tad bit painful, though."

I was at the door in the blink of an eye.

Deathwalkers aren't the only ones in the Shield cracked in the head!

Just as I was about to open it and escape, I found myself unable to move.

Glancing down, I noticed thin vines tightly wrapped around my body. Despite my attempts to break free, these vines sapped my energy, rendering me powerless against their grip.

Plus, they are bloody tough.

"Where are you running off to, my pretty little test subject?" the master A-ranked healer, Casey, asked in a sweet voice.

My eye twitched as I grasped for the door handle while being dragged back by the vines and into her embrace.

Iris! You're fucking dead!

*******

The redness and stinging on my skin had faded by the time I reached the door to my room.

Blood swirled around my open hand, taking the form of a spike.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Oh, hey Mordred! How was your treatment?" Iris asked with a sly smile, her deep blue eyes glinting with mischief.

"Wonderful," I replied and hurled the blood spike at her head.

Iris casually moved her head and the spike hit the wall beside her bed, splattering blood all over it.

"Didn't know we were due for repainting," she smirked, casually swinging her legs up and down as she lay on her bed.

Our room was quite spacious, about the same size as mine in the Dawn Palace. Designed for high-ranking Deathwalkers, it exuded luxury with two plush queen-sized beds adorned with fluffy pillows, spacious wardrobes seamlessly built into the walls, and a splendid bathroom that rivaled only those in the Dawn Palace. Complete with a large, slim, curved-screen TV accompanied by the latest game console and adjustable lights with light strips.

It's quite the sweet deal, right?

Speaking of high-ranking Deathwalkers, Iris is now the Captain of Unit 21 and I have become the vice-captain. Quite the promotion in just three years.

I'm just that amazing.

Anyway.

I glared at Iris. She had changed from her Deathwalker uniform to a simple t-shirt and shorts that accentuated her slim and well-proportioned figure. The scars on her beautiful long legs were quite vivid.

Like me, she also made sure not to have any scars on her face, claiming that a scar on her face would increase her beauty and could cause trouble with her increased popularity.

Seriously. How deluded can one be?

"What was that about? Sending me to Miss Casey?" I demanded.

"Ah," she gave me an innocent smile. "Miss Casey wanted someone to test her new alcoholic formula on. She wanted someone with a high pain tolerance."

I narrowed my eyes. "You have a high pain tolerance."

She sighed. "Alas! Only you and I possess the required pain tolerance. But you are my best friend! How can I let you be her guinea pig?"

"So, as I was ready to volunteer, I saw you with a nasty gash on your arm. It was quite convenient! So, I urged you to visit Miss Casey."

Iris grinned. "In the end, you both benefited. Your healed wound is now a hundred percent germ-free, and Miss Casey was able to test her new formula."

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"Also, it was payback for replacing my toothpaste with extra hot chili paste the previous week," she added, her grin turning into a menacing smile.

Hearing that, I couldn't help but smirk. "Yeah. You were quite refreshed. Fiery, I must say."

"But Miss Casey's special mixture was worse than the chili paste. It stung worse than a daemon's blade."

"Must've been quite refreshing," she mockingly repeated my words.

My eye twitched. "Bitch."

"Jerk," Iris retorted.

The temperature dropped, and the air shook as Bloodlust from us clashed in the room.

She tilted her head. "By the way. How did you swap them without my notice?"

I smiled. "You have a habit of brushing in the dark. So, I used that to my advantage."

"Ah," she shrugged. "I guess we are even now."

Our Bloodlust dissipated and she rolled on her back, picked up a novel, and began reading it. "You are going to stay in that uniform? It reeks of blood."

I looked at the sleeve of my pristine white jacket and sniffed it.

She is right. My uniform is special, made of a material that repels blood and other nasty fluids, but the metallic smell of blood lingers on it.

As for how I got this special material, well, it only took a lot of draigos I earned as a Deathwalker and the friendship with Dorothy Lorvar, the owner of Lorvar's Arsenal and probably the best ardor seamstress in the north.

"Ugh. You're right," I said and began to take off my jacket and turtleneck.

Iris just glanced at me and continued to read her novel.

Staying in the same room had made us get used to a lot of things, one of them being changing while the other was there in the room.

But this time, I was sure she blushed.

I stood in front of the mirror and gazed at my reflection.

It's been three years since I became a Deathwalker, and I have changed a lot.

My body is no longer the delicate and weak vessel into which I woke up.

It is now toned and shredded with significant muscle development, a testament to the training and workouts I underwent for three years.

My snow-white hair now reached the base of my neck, as messy as always, and my crimson eyes were starting to resemble jewels.

And the best part? I am now taller than Iris! Yay!

Not only have I become physically stronger, but my ardor control has also increased by leaps and bounds.

I am now an intermediate A-rank Linker. My speed of growth is absolutely terrifying, as I jumped from D-rank to A-rank in just three years.

To give you some perspective about my insane growth, Iris is now at the peak of A-rank, just one step away from being an S-ranker. She was a beginner A-rank three years ago.

This doesn't mean that I am now stronger than Iris. We may be of the same rank, but she can still kick my ass.

This time, she needs more effort.

Anyway, back to yours truly.

My aura is now way larger than before, and due to my excellent and precise ardor control, I can effortlessly manipulate the intensity of aura I can unleash along with the size of the area I can unleash it upon.

That means I can even completely suppress my aura when needed.

But power and muscles aren't the only things I accumulated in these three years.

My eyes lowered to the numerous scars that marred every inch of my fair skin on my body.

Scars crisscrossed my shoulders, arms, and legs, concealed beneath my pants.

Wounds caused by daemons leave scars that never fade away.

Over these three years, I lost all of my limbs, got paralyzed, extensively damaged a majority of my organs, and got stabbed daily more times than a certain Roman emperor from my past world.

Oh, I even got nearly decapitated one time.

As my finger traced the scar above my collarbones that spanned my entire neck, memories of that day flooded back.

If Iris hadn't rushed me to Althea in time, I might be resting eternally inside the Tomb.

Oh Incarni. Iris.

That was one of the many instances where I saw genuine concern in her eyes.

Ever since that hunt three years ago, we've shared numerous experiences together.

We pranked each other and other Deathwalkers, engaged in spirited sparring sessions, and supported each other on the battlefield.

Alongside these moments, we played games, explored the mountains, and created cherished memories in the midst of this chaotic hell on Asteris.

I served as her navigation guide, working alongside Minerva, and together, we navigated through countless wacky situations.

We were quite the troublemakers in Necropolis, often called the Chaotic Duo.

As I reflected on these crazy memories, a wistful smile crossed my face.

The three years spent with Iris, Dorothy, Damien, my Unit mates, and the many friends I made in the Shield surpassed the entirety of my old life, even with the daily threat of death.

When I shared this sentiment with Eravon during one of his dream visits, he remarked that reincarnating me in this body was undoubtedly a good decision.

My visits with him are less frequent now that I have become strong enough not to pass out on the battlefield.

But I am grateful to him. Eravon stands as the best teacher I've ever had.

Perhaps living for thousands of years can make someone quite an experienced teacher.

In just a few months, my sentence will be over and I will be free.

But what would I do after that?

Until now, my only goal was to survive in Blood Valley, never contemplating life beyond this harsh realm.

Heck, I hadn't even expected to make it this far.

But now I don't feel like leaving this place. Yet.

No, it's not because I suddenly feel like I belong here, or that society wouldn't easily accept a Deathwalker or any of that bullshit.

The truth is, Iris has one more year left in her five-year sentence to the Shield, and I don't want to part ways with her.

I want both of us to leave this place together.

After three years of watching each other's backs and sharing numerous crazy experiences, I've started to suspect that my feelings of friendship toward her have evolved into something more.

I mean, Iris is beautiful, funny, absolutely chaotic, shameless, and downright crazy.

But beneath all of that bundle of chaos, she is also kind and strong-willed.

And I have a feeling I'm not the only one with butterflies in the stomach.

Lately, I noticed Iris stealing glances at me and even giving death glares to other female Deathwalkers my age who approach me.

Heh. Aren't I a popular guy?

As these thoughts swirled in my head, I heard her voice behind me.

"My, I am having the sudden urge to tie you to the ceiling by the arms and wrap my legs around that body," Iris spoke slyly.

I raised my eyebrows and turned to her.

"Who's the kinky one now?"