Chapter 49: Maybe it is better if I don't - Part 2

“System, roll for nerves of steel,” Miles muttered under his breath as the heavy stone doors to the boss room groaned open.

“Result: 9. Nerves of lukewarm pudding achieved.”

“Thanks, System. Super encouraging,” Miles deadpanned as he gripped his sleeves like they were the last bit of comfort left in the world.

Hyperion, standing tall and confident as always, barely spared him a glance as he pushed the doors open further. A dark, cavernous space stretched out before them, lit only by eerie blue flames dancing along the walls. In the center of the room, a massive shadow shifted—guttural growls reverberating off the walls.

“Stay back,” Hyperion ordered, his voice firm. “This boss looks nasty. You’re just going to get yourself hurt.”

Miles sputtered. “Excuse me? Are you implying I’d be a burden?”

Hyperion turned, raising an eyebrow. “Implying? No. I’m stating it.”

“Rolling for comebacks,” the System chimed. “Result: 12. ‘Well, you’re a golden peacock with muscles’ is your best shot.”

Miles ignored that particular piece of System brilliance and instead stepped forward, puffing his chest. “Look, I know I’m not the picture of heroism here, but I can help. I’m not just some helpless, fragile flower, okay? I’ll be support!”

Hyperion stared at him as if he’d just declared himself the dungeon’s janitor. “Support?”

“Yes. You fight. I’ll make you fight better. A little luck can go a long way, trust me.”

Hyperion rubbed his temple, clearly exasperated. “Miles, I don’t need luck.”

“Famous last words,” Miles muttered, crossing his arms. “You’re stuck with me, so take what you can get.”

“Fine.” Hyperion sighed, defeated. “Do whatever you want—as long as you remain safe.” He emphasized the last word like Miles was a toddler playing with scissors.

“Safe. Got it. Totally my top priority.”

“Rolling for truthfulness,” the System chirped. “Result: 5. Liar, liar, adventurer on fire.”

Miles shot an unseen glare upward. “Not now, System.”

The tension in the air was palpable as the boss finally made its move. A hulking, monstrous figure emerged from the shadows—a giant amalgamation of stone and dark magic, its massive fists dragging across the ground as it roared.

“That’s a lot of boss,” Miles muttered. “Hyperion, you’re up!”

Hyperion didn’t waste any time. He charged forward with the grace of a seasoned warrior, his sword gleaming as he clashed with the monster. The room erupted into chaos: the boss swinging its giant fists like wrecking balls, Hyperion darting in and out with precision strikes.

Miles watched the fight unfold and muttered, “System, roll for ‘helpful sidekick.’”

“Result: 16. You’re not entirely useless today. Congratulations.”

“Good enough,” Miles whispered, focusing on Hyperion. He clasped his hands together. “Alright, let’s boost Mr. Golden Boy here. Rolling for luck…!”

The System paused. “Rolling… Natural 20. Hyperion’s agility is now off the charts.”

Miles grinned. “Yes! Take that, overgrown rock pile!”

At that exact moment, Hyperion dodged an incoming punch with such unnatural ease that even he looked surprised. He slipped through the monster’s defenses like water, landing a devastating blow that cracked its stone armor.

“What the…?” Hyperion muttered, blinking as he avoided yet another attack. “How am I moving this fast?”

“Support magic, my dude!” Miles called out, fists pumping. “You’re welcome!”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Hyperion’s expression flickered between confusion and begrudging amusement, but he didn’t stop. With his enhanced movements, the boss barely stood a chance. Every swing it made missed by a hair, while Hyperion’s strikes hit like lightning, chipping away at the monster’s health.

Within minutes—what should have been an hour-long fight for mere mortals—the boss let out one last roar before crumbling to the ground, defeated. The room trembled, and a chest appeared in the center with a triumphant ding.

Miles ran toward Hyperion, a proud smile on his face. “See? Told you I could help!”

Hyperion sheathed his sword, breathing a little harder than usual but otherwise pristine. “That… was unexpected.”

“Yeah, well, that’s me. Unexpected and slightly miraculous.” Miles beamed. “I tried to keep my powers in check, by the way. I didn’t want to accidentally turn you into a god or something.”

Hyperion’s expression darkened immediately.

Miles blinked, the smile sliding off his face. “…What?”

Hyperion stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Miles’s shoulder. His eyes, which had been calm and amused moments ago, now burned with intensity.

“Miles.” His voice was low, serious. “Never use your power like that again.”

Miles froze, his brain scrambling to catch up. “W-what? What do you mean? I was just—”

“Never again.” Hyperion’s grip tightened slightly, though not painfully. “If you value your life, don’t do that.”

Miles’s heart dropped to his stomach. He didn’t know what scared him more—Hyperion’s words or the look in his eyes.

“System…?” he whispered.

“Rolling for Hyperion’s intentions…” The System paused. “Result: 15. He is not angry, but he’s serious. And he’s worried.”

Hyperion must have noticed Miles’s wide-eyed panic because his expression softened slightly. He let go of Miles’s shoulder and stepped back, running a hand through his golden hair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You kinda did,” Miles muttered, rubbing his shoulder even though it didn’t hurt. “What’s the big deal? I helped you win!”

Hyperion sighed deeply, his sharp features shadowed in thought. “That power of yours—boosting luck like that—it’s not natural. Someone’s going to notice it. And when they do, they’re going to come for you.”

“Come for me?” Miles’s voice cracked. “Who’s ‘they’? What are we talking about here? Monsters? Bandits? Tax collectors?”

Hyperion shot him a dry look. “I’m serious.”

Miles’s mind raced as a chill crept up his spine. He’d always known his rolls and luck were weird—borderline impossible, really—but hearing Hyperion treat it like a death sentence was a whole new level of terrifying.

“System…” he whispered again. “Roll to see if Hyperion’s messing with me.”

“Result: 18. Hyperion is 100% genuine.”

Miles swallowed hard. “You’re sure?”

“Result: 19. Yes, I’m sure. Stop asking.”

He looked up at Hyperion, whose face was still clouded with worry. “You’re… actually worried about me?”

Hyperion nodded. “Of course I’m worried. That power isn’t something you can just wave around without consequences.”

Miles stared at him, dumbfounded. “Wait, wait, wait. You—Mr. Golden Warrior—are worried about me? The guy who just tripped on a pebble two hours ago?”

“Don’t remind me,” Hyperion muttered, though a ghost of a smile appeared. “Yes, I’m worried about you.”

Miles turned to the System, eyes narrowing. “Roll to double-check Hyperion’s feelings.”

“Result: Natural 20. Hyperion is genuinely worried about you. Maybe stop doubting everything for once?”

Miles nearly fell over. “A Nat 20?!”

Hyperion frowned. “Why are you yelling?”

“Because! I—I don’t know! I’m not used to people… actually caring?” Miles waved his arms around like an overwhelmed duck. “It’s weird!”

Hyperion pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath about “children these days” before focusing back on Miles. “Listen to me. I don’t know what you are, or what that power of yours is, but you need to be careful. People disappear because of stuff like this. The wrong people will hunt you down and…” He trailed off, his expression serious again.

Miles hugged himself, suddenly feeling small. “You’re really not joking.”

“No.” Hyperion sighed. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, Miles.”

Miles blinked, stunned into silence. Hyperion didn’t want him to get hurt. Hyperion cared.

“System… roll to see if I’ve accidentally stumbled into a weird, brotherly friendship.”

“Result: 17. Looks like it, buddy. You’re doomed to care about this man forever.”

Miles huffed, forcing himself to grin despite the nerves bubbling in his chest. “Alright, alright. I get it. No more flashy rolls unless I absolutely need them.”

Hyperion raised an eyebrow. “You promise?”

“…Rolling for sincerity,” Miles muttered.

“Result: 11. You’re half sincere. Could go either way.”

Miles grinned awkwardly. “Sure!”

Hyperion didn’t look convinced, but he let it drop. “Come on. Let’s head back. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

Miles followed after him, still reeling from everything that had just happened. His so-called “power” wasn’t just an oddity—it was dangerous. And for the first time, someone actually cared enough to warn him about it.

As they exited the boss room, Miles couldn’t help but glance up at the System interface, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Hey, System,” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“Roll to see if I can trust Hyperion.”

The System was silent for a beat. Then, “Result: Natural 20. Hyperion has your back.”

Somehow, having someone on his side was more reassuring than Miles expected it to be. He had spent most of his life alone, and even his parents had been people present in his life, but never got too close to him.

Maybe Hyperion can be someone I can call a friend. I should stick with him for now. That way, I won’t have to keep getting into trouble all the time and also not risk getting scammed.

But the only problem was Hyperion himself. He looked like a loner as well.