Mira’s shout cracked like a gong, and everyone blinked awake—since the scuffle started, nobody had seen Adelaide at all.

“Huh? I think… I can’t sense her life-breath. Like a candle snuffed.”

Menglan’s brow lifted, a ripple of confusion that snagged Mira’s breathing like tangled silk. Her fist tightened in Varie’s collar.

“You—you promised! You said you’d protect my sister!”

Varie staggered back under Mira’s storm, just as lost. “No, I did drag her out of the Forging Hammer’s arc. She’s definitely alive—”

“Then where is she? Answer me!”

Varie had no answer. The rush of moments had washed out the fact of Adelaide’s absence, and now she couldn’t catch even a whiff of her.

That realization chilled her skin like rain, and doubt gnawed at her memory.

Maybe she hadn’t grabbed Adelaide at all. Maybe the lure of that magic-core sword’s Dreamfeast Spider core drew her in, and the hammer pulped her— The thought slithered in as Varie turned toward the hammer, and the floor shivered underfoot again.

Everyone’s hearts rose and hung with the tremors—everyone but Mira, already fraying like a torn kite.

The source broke the surface. Thick, towering spider limbs clawed up through a floor seam and stabbed into the metal, and a breath of relief rippled through the group.

“Nacha curse—why the hell are you playing hide-and-seek? Your sister almost strangled me over this.”

Her mouth was rough, but Varie let out a laugh when Adelaide appeared, riding her spider gait like dusk spilling down a wall.

Mira saw her sister and let go of Varie’s collar. She took a step forward, hope fluttering like a shy bird.

“Sis, are you okay?”

“…”

“Sis…?”

No answer. Adelaide didn’t even look up. Only the spider limbs unfurling from her back moved, spearing into the floor in a rolling rhythm—she was moving, and accelerating.

“Hey—what are you doing—!”

Adelaide lunged. Varie and the others had no time to draw steel; they could only watch her close like a storm.

She slammed into Mira and drove her down.

“Wait—Sis?!”

Mira hit the cold steel floor, breath punched out. The roughness stung like ice, and her gasp broke. Worse, Adelaide didn’t answer her at all.

In that instant, Mira heard only her sister’s heavy breathing. Then a sharp sting bloomed at her neck.

“Mm—mm?! Sis! This—mm~ not here…!”

Mira cried out, panicked, but Adelaide didn’t stop. She bit harder, and Mira’s voice leaked into soft, tingling breaths.

“No— they—they’re still here… mm~!”

She didn’t know what had flipped the switch, but this was wrong. They’d done things like this on the road, sure—but only deep at night, far from camp, when everyone slept. Nacha ears were too sharp, and Adelaide would never let Varie tease her about “finger-play.”

So why—if Sis was always so careful—why the sudden plunge now?

Mira couldn’t make sense of it, not with so little to hold onto, and not with that shiver flooding up her spine—like a spider injecting venom into prey, numbing thought with jolts of bright, electric pleasure.

It was clear her sister wasn’t playing. Those long, white-silk legs locked Mira’s thighs tight, soft warmth pressed her chest, and Adelaide burrowed into her neck like a snake, like a spider, drinking greedy and feeding Mira a sweetness she couldn’t fight.

For a heartbeat, Mira almost surrendered—let the tingles take her, let herself tremble and moan in front of the whole squad—

Thankfully, Varie’s crew didn’t gawk at private moments. Once they snapped back, they did the sane thing.

“Get a grip, you maniac… hey! Wake up! Don’t lose it here!” Varie grabbed Adelaide’s shoulders and tried to haul her off. “Your sister’s still injured, you hear me!”

The word hit like a slap. Adelaide’s roughness froze for a beat.

A few seconds later, she released Mira. She lifted her head and sat up.

“Ahh, I was just too happy~”

Against all expectation, these were Adelaide’s first words since reappearing.

When she raised her face, a red smear lingered at her lips, but her expression had already reset to that classic heiress smile. She stood, wiped her mouth with quiet grace, and used her spider limbs to pull her sister up as well. She brushed the dust from Mira’s clothes, then wrapped her in a light hug.

“Sorry, Mira. Did that fall hurt? I might’ve gotten a bit carried away. Forgive your sister, okay?”

“Eh—eh?” The crackle still fizzed under Mira’s skin, and Adelaide’s whiplash attitude left her dazed. She could only nod along. “I’m fine…”

Silence stretched, awkward as damp cloth, until Varie cut it clean.

“So where’d you go just now? You vanished, and neither I nor the long-ears could sense you.”

“Hm? That happened?” Adelaide blinked, as if the words were smoke. “Anyway, I went to fetch this—”

She pulled a bottle from her bodice. Its moonlit glow widened everyone’s eyes. “Isilia’s Glow?!”

“Yep. I saw it blown clear by the Forging Hammer’s shockwave. It fell into that crack, so I chased it down,” Adelaide tapped her head, sheepish. “Then I think I hit something on the way and blacked out…”

She squeezed Mira’s hand and looked apologetic. “Just now… I don’t know what got into me. Maybe my head’s woozy, and I got too excited… I’m really sorry, Mira.”

Her last apology bubbled warm, and the feeling wasn’t fake. The crew had felt rattled by her behavior; now their words stuck like seeds that wouldn’t sprout.

In the end, Varie only scratched her head and waved everyone off. “Alright, scatter.” Then she went back to what she’d been doing before Mira returned—yanking Kabos off Beanpole. “I told you to give her some room!”

We’re all brothers; why should I look away?? Kabos didn’t get the captain’s point. Varie gave him a helpless look.

“Beanpole’s a woman. You can’t change her clothes while hugging her, got it?”

“Huh?”

Kabos glanced at the Nacha men fighting laughter, thought about why they’d turned away earlier, then started to look back at the armored Beanpole— He didn’t get far. Varie grabbed his ear and dragged him aside, and over the chorus of “ow ow ow, my ear,” the loudest sound was—

“Huh?”

The Nacha teammates who’d known all along broke into roaring laughter. The little gag chased off the last of the awkward air.

Mira watched her sister’s smile curve up too, like a crescent moon. It looked normal. Her tiny doubt guttered.

Maybe she was just being too sensitive. Maybe, like Sis said, she hit her head, got fuzzy and hyped, and that’s why she acted off…

Mira told herself that and tightened her grip on Adelaide’s hand, feeling the sure warmth in her sister’s palm.

It’s okay. Sis isn’t hurt. What could matter more—

“Mira, have you ever heard the story of Matis?”

The question landed so abruptly that Mira thought she’d imagined it.

“Eh?”

“You remember, right? Back in the desert, that blood infant that swallowed everything.” Adelaide lowered her voice, eyes on the ongoing farce, mouth still moving. “If I remember right, that spell was called ‘Crying Matis,’ wasn’t it?”

“Uh… yeah. I think that was the name…”

Mira didn’t know why Adelaide brought it up, but she answered true.

Adelaide thought for a breath, then went on. “If you know it, that means the tale really comes from the Nuhaman Tribe.”

“Mm… People of the Nuhaman Tribe should all know the demon infant Matis,” Mira said, puzzled. “But, Sis, why ask—?”

“It’s nothing. I just got curious,” Adelaide smiled and shook her head. “Don’t worry, Mira.”

She let go of Mira’s hand and jogged to Varie, who was tallying the remains of Soul Devourer Sormaidon. “Hey, save me some materials. Where’s its Dragon Heart?”

Didn’t find it! Varie yelled back. Adelaide blinked, said “no way,” and joined the harvest crew.

Meanwhile, Mira stood and watched her sister move like sunlight shimmering on steel.

Then she clenched her fist.

She’d seen it—in that last eye contact, deep in Adelaide’s pupils, a tremor of raw fear.

Adelaide wasn’t fine, not like she said. Of that, Mira was certain.