Chapter 396 Hermit had forgotten one crucial detail about Suzuka: she was a restless sleeper.

The storm outside showed no signs of letting up. The wind howled like a wounded animal, its icy fingers clawing at the entrance of the hollow. Snow piled up against the roots of the stump, slowly creeping inward as the temperature dropped even further. Hermit’s breath came out in shallow, visible puffs, his body shivering uncontrollably as the cold seeped into his bones.

He tried to focus on the flames, on the thought of Kaka, but his mind was a fog of exhaustion and pain. His head drooped, his chin resting on his chest as his eyes fluttered shut. Just for a moment, he told himself.

"Just a moment of rest..."

But a moment turned into minutes. Hermit’s body swayed, his balance faltering as sleep overtook him. Slowly, he tipped to the side, his small form crumpling to the ground in a heap. The reeking cloth slipped from his shoulders, leaving him exposed to the cold. His breathing slowed, his shivering subsiding as his body succumbed to exhaustion.

The fire, neglected and starved of fuel, began to die. The flames sputtered and flickered, their light growing dimmer with every passing minute. Outside, the snow continued to pile up, a gust of wind sending a fine dusting of it swirling into the hollow. The flakes landed on the embers, hissing as they melted, but it was enough to snuff out the last of the fire’s warmth.

The tree stump hollow grew dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the dying embers. The temperature plummeted, the cold creeping in like a predator stalking its prey. Hermit lay sprawled on the ground, his body limp and still, his face pale and his lips tinged with blue. He didn’t stir as the cold wrapped around him, his exhaustion too deep to rouse him.

Hours passed, the storm outside raging on as Hermit lay motionless on the cold ground. His breath came out in shallow, visible puffs, each one weaker than the last. The cold had seeped into his bones, his body stiff and unresponsive. His skin, once a pale green, had taken on a sickly bluish hue, the frostbite already setting in.

Slowly, painfully, Hermit managed to pry one eye open halfway. The darkness of the hollow greeted him, the absence of the fire’s warmth hitting him like a punch to the gut. He knew immediately what had happened—he’d failed. The fire was out.

Panic surged through him, but his body refused to cooperate. He tried to shuffle back up, to move, to do something, but his legs wouldn’t obey. He looked down, his vision blurry, and saw the grotesque state of his feet. His soft, tender soles were swollen and covered in blisters, the skin cracked and raw from the cold. Frostbite had taken hold, turning his toes into numb, lifeless stubs.

His arms weren’t any better. They were frozen to the ground, the skin sticking to the icy floor of the hollow. Hermit thrashed weakly, trying to free himself, but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. He tried to scream for help, to call out to Suzuka, but his mouth was frozen shut. All that came out was a faint, choked gasp.

 Fear gripped him, cold and unrelenting. His heart pounded in his chest, the only part of him that still felt alive. In a desperate attempt to move, he tried to shift his weight, but his body refused to respond. He felt a sudden, sharp pain in his abdomen as his bladder gave out, but even that was frozen inside him. Nothing came out—just another cruel reminder of how utterly helpless he was.

Tears welled up in his eyes, freezing almost instantly on his cheeks. He shifted one last time, summoning every ounce of strength he had left. With a sickening rip, he tore himself free from the frozen ground, the skin on his arms and legs peeling away in the process. He gasped, the pain barely registering through the numbness that had taken over his body.

Somehow, he managed to stand, his legs trembling violently beneath him. They were numb, lifeless, and grotesquely swollen, but they held his weight—barely. He looked around the hollow, his vision swimming. The fire was gone, its warmth replaced by a biting, unrelenting cold. Even the reeking cloth Suzuka had given him was frozen stiff, like a sheet of metal.

Hermit’s half-open eye scanned the hollow, his vision blurry and unfocused. The biting cold had numbed his body, but his mind clung to one desperate thought: warmth. His gaze landed on Suzuka, who lay peacefully in her sleeping bag, completely unbothered by the freezing temperatures. She had even unzipped the bag slightly, the heat radiating from inside like a beacon in the darkness. Hermit could see the faint waves of warmth rising from her, and his heart—what little of it still felt alive—skipped a beat.

His mind went blank, all thoughts vanishing. All he cared about now was survival. He had to get warm, or he would die.

Summoning the last of his strength, Hermit managed to stumble to his feet, his frozen legs trembling beneath him. Each step was agony, his frostbitten feet crunching against the icy ground, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. With a final, desperate lurch, he collapsed next to Suzuka’s sleeping bag, his small body curling into a shivering ball.

His fingers, stiff and clumsy, fumbled with the zipper. He couldn’t get a grip, his hands too numb to function properly. He leaned forward and bit down on the zipper, his teeth chattering as he tugged it open just enough to squeeze inside. The warmth hit him like a wave, enveloping his frozen body in a cocoon of heat. He bit down on the zipper again, pulling it shut behind him, sealing himself inside.

The inside of the sleeping bag was like a furnace compared to the icy hollow. Suzuka’s body radiated heat, her presence like a living heater. Hermit curled up as small as he could, his shivering slowly subsiding as the warmth seeped into his bones. The scent of her skin—clean, warm, and oddly comforting—filled his nostrils, a stark contrast to the reeking cloth he’d been wrapped in earlier.

But even in his desperate state, Hermit knew better than to press himself against her. Suzuka was a heavy sleeper but if she woke up to find him clinging to her, he had no doubt she’d finish him off herself. There and then. So, he stayed as still as possible, his small body tucked into the corner of the sleeping bag by her feet, careful not to disturb her.

Her steady breathing and the rhythmic rise and fall of her big chest were oddly soothing, and for the first time in hours, he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he’d survive this nightmare.

But then, disaster struck.

Hermit had forgotten one crucial detail about Suzuka: she was a restless sleeper. And not just restless—she was a wrestler. Anyone who dared to sleep next to her, whether by choice or necessity, was in for a rough night. And Hermit, small and fragile as he was, was no exception.

It started with her arm flopping over and landing squarely on Hermit’s chest. He froze, his breath catching in his throat as he waited for her to wake up. But she didn’t. She just muttered something unintelligible and rolled onto her side, dragging Hermit with her.

Hermit’s eyes widened in panic as he found himself pressed against Suzuka’s soft, warm body. He tried to squirm away, but her arm tightened around him, pulling him closer. Her leg swung over him next, pinning him in place. Hermit let out a muffled squeak, his face buried in her chest as she unconsciously wrestled him into a full-body bear hug.

“M-Master... P-please...”

She shifted again, her body rolling onto Hermit and nearly crushing him beneath her weight. Hermit’s arms flailed weakly, his legs kicking as he tried to free himself, but it was no use. Suzuka was like a boulder, her soft but unyielding body trapping him in place.

Hermit’s mind raced, his panic growing with every passing second. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even scream for help. All he could do was lie there like teddy bear, his small body squished against Suzuka’s, as she continued to toss and turn in her sleep.

She rolled onto her back, taking Hermit with her. He found himself sprawled across her chest, his face pressed into the crook of her neck. Her warmth was almost unbearable now, the heat radiating from her body like a furnace. Hermit’s cheeks burned, his entire body flushing with embarrassment as he realized just how close he was to her. Hermit’s only consolation was that she wasn’t doing it on purpose. If she had been awake, he had no doubt she would’ve thrown him out into the snow by now.

Somehow, miraculously, Hermit managed to survive the night. By the time the storm outside began to subside, he was a bruised, exhausted mess, his small body curled into a ball at the bottom of the sleeping bag at her feet. Suzuka, on the other hand, looked as peaceful as ever, her arms and legs sprawled out as if she’d just had the best sleep of her life.

She woke up slowly, her body stiff from the cramped space. She blinked a few times, her sharp eyes adjusting to the darkness. The entrance was completely blocked by snow. She sighed, running a hand through her hair as she muttered to herself.

“That goblin had one job. One. To keep fire from going out. And he still managed to fail.”

She sat up, her sleeping bag rustling as she looked around. The fire was out, the embers long since cold, and Hermit was nowhere to be seen. 

 “And where did that goblin go off to? Did he leave me here and ran off alone? No, no, that can’t be...”