“Uh, Boss Hero, I don’t mean to nag… but are we gonna keep dragging along like mud-soaked boots?”

Soul Devourer Sormaidon’s domain felt thin as morning mist; its pressure had faded to a whisper. No more spearhead spiders skittered in to hassle us. Yet the team’s morale didn’t rise; it sank like a stone into deep water.

At last, Kabos was the first to point at the elephant in the room, like tapping a drum no one dared touch.

“So, yeah— he doesn’t seem hostile. But there’s a ghost… I mean, a Nacha Tribe remnant soul— clinging to our backs like cold breath. It’s creepy.”

“Did he lay a finger on you?” Varie shot back, cool as a winter blade. “No? Then let him drift. Eyes front.”

She kept walking without a turn of her head, steps steady as a metronome, ignoring that shadow floating ten-odd meters behind us like a cut kite.

He was one of her people once, and he had clearly helped us out just now. Varie’s hard line looked stone-hearted. Adelaide thought so; so did others. Even the Nacha Tribe loyalists glanced back, their eyes swinging like pendulums between Varie and the remnant.

No one saw the look on Varie’s face up front. No one saw the churn in her eyes, stormy as a tide. No one saw her bite her lip, a thorn pressed to flesh.

What was that?

A plea? Joy?

He stared at her, wide-eyed, like a lantern under rain. His soul had been chewed ragged, yet he still looked at her with hope bright as dawn.

Like he’d seen the Lionheart Hero from a thousand years ago, and thought she’d come to free them, to cut their chains.

That gaze— the wounded begging the storm for mercy— what was she supposed to do with that?

She wasn’t the one from a thousand years back. Same title, different fire. Her strength couldn’t touch the legend who led the tribe through the Chaos Uprising.

That Lionheart Hero defeated the chaos and sealed the final gate of the Void Rift with lone hands. Varie, by contrast, was just a thief sneaking home, tiptoeing for a clan relic, scared to scratch the air.

She couldn’t wield honor. She wasn’t that Lionheart Hero. She couldn’t save them.

Varie clenched her teeth, breath tight as wire. Her steps turned mechanical, like a wind-up doll. She pushed forward because she didn’t dare look back. She couldn’t meet that hopeful gaze, bright as embers.

Crack.

She didn’t watch the trail. Stone split like dry bread under her boot, and the world dropped away.

By the time she snapped back, she was hanging over a black maw of an abyss. A few seconds later, the arrows she’d flung in panic reached bottom, their tiny echoes rising like bubbles.

Barni clamped her collar from behind, teeth firm as hooks. Without him, she’d be lying with those arrows in a dark throat with no end.

“If you’re too tired, rest,” Menglan said, voice soft as silk but steady. “Let someone else lead for a bit, Varie.”

Her big cat hauled her back up. First thing she saw was that pretty, irritating long-eared face. Varie spat, sharp as a pebble.

“What? I’m not gonna die from a fall.”

She wasn’t wrong. With a Nacha Tribe Hero’s body, a height like this meant a few broken bones, half a day to mend. But that strength only made the slip louder. A proud Nacha Tribe Hero, walking off a cliff? On a normal day, impossible.

Barni gave a low growl and nudged her waist, warm as a hearth. Varie’s little round ears went red, like ripe fruit. She parted her lips, ready to argue.

“Don’t say Soul Devourer Sormaidon’s domain messed your senses,” Menglan smiled, closing off her last excuse like a lid on a pot. “Our friend behind us is suppressing that.”

Queen Dreamlan, clearly bearing the brunt of Varie’s misdirected anger, didn’t show a flicker of displeasure. She simply shook her head, calm as a still lake.

“You can trust him. That’s enough.”

“Ha? Then tell me how, exactly?”

“Go talk to him face to face. His outline’s so clear, it means Soul Devourer Sormaidon hasn’t fully corrupted him. He still has will. He’s still resisting.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure— theory queen.” Varie grumbled, sparks snapping in her eyes. She strode straight to the shadow that tailed us and stopped when we stopped, a loyal moon.

“Hey! Can you hear me? If you can, make a sound! Nod at least!”

She shouted at the remnant soul. As expected, he didn’t react. He just stared at Varie, confusion drifting across his face like fog.

“See that? He can’t see or hear us. We’re just a clump of mist to him! How am I supposed to ‘communicate’?”

She spun, ready to mock the long-eared punk. Instead, she found Menglan right behind her, serious as a blade laid flat.

“W-What are you— mm!”

Menglan cupped her face, palms soft and slender like willow leaves. The touch froze Varie, and for a heartbeat she forgot she was stronger. She let Menglan turn her head back, eyes to eyes with the remnant once more.

“Hush.” Menglan’s whisper brushed her ear like a breeze through bamboo. “Don’t speak. Feel it, heart to heart.”

Mystic nonsense, Varie thought— a scowl rising like smoke. Yet her body obeyed. Her pounding heart smoothed, ripples settling on a moonlit pond.

Her eyes slid shut.

Colors blossomed behind the dark of her lids. Amber. Scarlet. Teal. Blood-wine. Hues flowed and braided, a river of lights.

She opened her eyes.

The remnant’s gaze brightened, like coals catching. His hand lifted, steady as a branch in wind, pointing toward a direction.

“You… want to lead us there?”

No answer. But she knew. The meaning pressed clear as a trail in frost.

She turned to see Queen Dreamlan wearing a smile warm as spring.

“As I said, mind taking a break and handing off the duty for a while, Ms. Guide?”

“Scram.”

Varie shook off Menglan’s hand. After a few seconds of silence, she looked to Adelaide and the others.

“A small detour. You okay with that?”

Adelaide blinked a “Huh?” Then her eyes cleared, sharp as glass. She glanced at her white stockings, then at Mira. They shared a quick nod. Adelaide shrugged, loose as a tossed scarf.

(We’re gonna be carried for two days anyway. What’s two more?)

“Alright,” she called, voice bright as a bell. “No objections here.”