"No, you won't be going beyond this point."

The Sword Hero's words rang clear, cold and blunt. Tired blue eyes urged you to stay within the area you were in, and the wide expanse of the forest felt small when he looked at you like that. Placing your tome in your hands, he once again ordered you to stay within the more shallow levels of the forest. The rest of the party had died to the Spirit Tortoise—he wouldn't lose you too. Healers in the party were valuable, after all, and elixirs can't remove the various poisons he'd encountered.

"Stay here and steadily raise your level."

He was like an overprotective boyfriend somehow, yet the way he'd describe and treat it was still as though it were a game. "If you don't want to die like them, then get stronger." It's not his fault. It's not his fault. They died because they were weak. You had the potential to be useful. That's why you didn't die out there.

Or so he tried to convince himself of.