Yihan sat with his eyes closed, resting.

This world only opened to him in sleep—how could he possibly fall asleep here again? A dream within a dream? Impossible.

The mountain trek had left his muscles aching. Nerve-wracking encounters had kept him on edge. Now, as tension bled away, his head felt heavy, his focus fraying.

Only when something soft pressed against his shoulder did he snap alert.

He glanced over—and nearly jumped.

The Witch Hunter, healed but exhausted, had silently settled beside him. Her head rested against his shoulder, breathing even, face peaceful as if napping on a sun-dappled afternoon.

*How can she sleep now?* Yihan’s heart pounded with urgency. *Lia’s in mortal danger—enemies are already inside!* He wanted to shake her awake. But she’d just survived grave wounds. He bit back his impatience.

If this dream lasted eight hours, three or four had already slipped by. How long would Lia’s energy barrier hold? Charging in alone would be walking straight into their trap.

Unless he had some hidden power to reshape this dream itself.

He stared at the girl’s snow-pale face. Visions flashed: Lia trapped in a cage, her agonized screams tearing through the air.

He couldn’t just sit here. True, her core hadn’t been taken—she’d found him five years later—but what if his actions had already twisted the "causal threads"? Right now, Lia hovered on a knife’s edge. One misstep, and she’d die.

This wasn’t Carola’s burden. She was injured. He shouldn’t drag her deeper into danger.

Alone, he had no idea how to fight those shadowy enemies.

But doing nothing was worse.

He slipped off his cloak and draped it over Carola. Carefully, he shifted away. Without his shoulder as support, she slumped sideways. Yihan caught her head, gently lowering her to the ground.

*Sorry. I have to leave early. Hope no beasts wander by… though I could cover you with branches if needed.*

He watched the girl—her breathing finally steady—and turned away, resolve hardening.

"Don’t… leave… me…"

Her broken whisper froze him mid-step. Yihan whipped around. *How did she know I was sneaking off?*

Curled on the ground, the oversized cloak swallowed her small frame. Her face was pale as paper. Thick lashes trembled. Muffled sobs escaped her lips.

"...Father… Mother…"

Yihan: "..."

Ah. He’d misunderstood. She was dreaming of her parents—not him.

He remembered her words: the Cataclysm Witch had erased her hometown. She alone had escaped.

That memory had become her lifelong nightmare.

Yihan hesitated. He *should* go. Her dreams weren’t his concern.

But seeing her shudder, fingers clawing at empty air… he couldn’t. He knelt beside her, hesitated, then let her grasp his hand.

*Just until she calms down. Then I leave.*

In nightmares, the mind clutches at anything solid. Yihan’s hand was a lifeline. The moment Carola’s skin met his, she seized it like a drowning woman grabbing water—fingers locking tight, tendons standing out on her pale hand.

A sigh escaped her. Her trembling eased. But her grip never loosened, as if terrified this anchor would vanish, leaving her abandoned.

Watching her, Yihan thought of the Carola from five years later.

Back then, she’d always been bright-eyed and cheerful. As his tenant, she’d filled his quiet home with laughter. He’d almost believed her carefree. Honestly, if not for her hidden identity and motives, he might have liked her.

Only once had he seen shadows cross her face: that evening when she spoke of the city called Hot Springs Haven.

Through the window’s sunset glow, he’d glimpsed raw grief and helplessness in her eyes. He knew she hated Witches. Hated herself for surviving.

Meeting *this* Carola—cold, ruthless, never smiling—had shown him her true past. He doubted she’d believe him if he said the future her laughed freely, radiated confidence. Was even *that* a mask? He couldn’t tell.

*Asking a victim of the Cataclysm Witch to save another Witch?* He must be mad. Only the risk to innocent townsfolk had made Carola intervene for Lia.

The truth settled heavily on Yihan. Slowly, carefully, he began prying his fingers from her grasp.

Alone or not—he’d go. Lia was the first person he’d met in this strange world. And that night, five years later… that was reason enough to fight for her.

He tucked the cloak firmly around Carola, ensuring the wind wouldn’t steal it. Squeezing her fingertips once in farewell, he stood, jaw set.

Then—

The sleeping girl’s eyes flew open. Azure irises locked onto him, silent and deep. Her lips parted as if to speak.

"You’re… awake?"

"My sleep is light," she murmured, sitting up and drawing the cloak tighter. Her voice was calm, flat. She looked away, already knowing his intent. Not stopping him.

"Rest well. I’m leaving."

"Where to?" Carola’s gaze burned into him. A question she already knew the answer to.

No lies. No need. Yihan forced an easy smile, like he had a plan.

"Soul Valley Town. To save her."

"Don’t waste your life." Her words cut through his flimsy excuse, shoving reality in his face. "You can’t save her. Those enemies will crush you."

Yihan kept smiling. "How do you know unless I try?"

Pity flickered in her eyes. "You’d walk to your death anyway? I don’t understand you."

Annoyance sharpened his voice. "Then what’s *your* solution?"

Silence stretched. Just as Yihan’s patience frayed, her reply came—soft, woven with reluctant concern.

"...Come with me. Let’s leave this place. Together."