Arthur and Ilya sat by a small fire, the golden flames flickering gently against the darkened forest of the ninth floor. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and the lingering traces of fallen foes. Their battle had been long and arduous, and now, in this brief respite, they took the time to recover their strength.
Arthur tended to his sword, running a cloth over its gleaming blade while his shield lay at his side, faintly pulsing with the remnants of Light energy. Ilya, seated across from him, carefully mixed a potion of herbs and mana-infused liquids—an old shamanic recipe meant to revitalize one's energy. She poured some into a small wooden cup and handed it to Arthur.
"Drink this," she said, her voice soft but firm.
"It'll help restore the energy you burned during battle."
Arthur accepted it with a grateful nod and took a sip. The warmth spread through his body instantly, soothing his tired muscles and easing his mind.
