"Pfft."
The Spirit King let out a short snort, glancing aside as if she'd said something ridiculous.
Yao Yao's head snapped up, eyes still wet. "W-what!"
Why is he laughing?
He tilted his head, a faint curve tugging at his mouth. "Why would I need your blood? You've barely got any magic in you. Even if I bled you dry, it wouldn't do a thing for me."
"…"
Was that supposed to be cruel… or just honest?
"The stronger the blood, the greater the power." He said it like a line recalled from memory, something from the book he'd picked up in the cave beside her. His hand dropped to Rui's head, giving it a casual pat. "If anything, I'd take his. A single drop from him is worth a thousand of you."
Rui's eyes went wide. "H-hey!" He shot to his feet so fast that Yao Yao flinched. Your blood's worth thousands of mine! He wanted to throw it back at him but swallowed it down, pride strangling the words.
Yao Yao understood, in a way. Ancients were born with power—that was just how the world worked. But knowing didn't make it easier. The words still landed where it hurt, pressing into a place that hadn't healed.
She swallowed. "Well… you could still use me for a sacrifice."
The moment it left her mouth, she wished she hadn't said it. The memory came back too easily—the sound of the toad's body collapsing in on itself, the air so thick with smoke she could almost taste the burn in her throat.
The Spirit King hummed, as if considering. "That is true. But as I said—you're not worth anything. If I wanted a ritual, I'd use him as—"
"Stop trying to sacrifice me in your insane rituals!" Rui snapped, his voice cutting clean through.
Yao Yao flinched again, shrinking from the sharpness in his tone. She looked between them—Rui blazing, the Spirit King's mouth curving as if the whole thing amused him.
It was obvious now—he hadn't meant it seriously. He just enjoyed watching the man snap.
Well… yeah. I guess that makes sense. Her brows drew together faintly. I don't know what kind of strange rituals spirits get up to… but if they're the ones worth more, then I'm probably safe, aren't I?
The thought eased her a little. Her breathing steadied, and the tears began to dry. She wasn't a child. If they'd wanted to hurt her, they could've done it while she was unconscious. Whatever they were, they hadn't.
The Spirit King's gaze drifted back to her. She looked calmer now, shoulders loose, the panic gone from her face. He watched her for a moment, then said, "Good. Now that she's recovered—"
His hand shifted faintly, fingers curling as though to beckon her forward—
"Hold on." Rui's voice cut in, sharp. He stepped between them before the King could take a step closer. "At least let her eat first."
Her gaze flicked to the tray beside her—bread, fruit, dishes still warm enough to send faint curls of steam into the air. Then her stomach growled. Loud.
Her eyes went wide, heat rushing to her cheeks.
The pause that followed lasted only a heartbeat before Rui gave a small, helpless laugh. "Here. Eat."
***
Rui sat close, holding the bowl steady as he fed her one spoon at a time. She didn't argue. The bandages made it pointless anyway, so she let him. He didn't rush her, waiting between each bite with a patience that almost made the moment feel normal.
The Spirit King lounged nearby on a table, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You look like a mother."
Rui stiffened, nearly choking on his breath. "I—what? I'm only feeding her because of the bandages!"
The King only looked more amused, fingers idly tracing a vine that had climbed up the table toward him.
Yao Yao glanced at Rui again. His ears were red, but his hand stayed steady. For all his fluster, there was a quiet gentleness in it, one that reminded her a little of Su Mi.
"I can eat on my own, you know," she muttered.
Rui looked at her bandaged hands, his lips tightening faintly. "Mm. Of course you can."
Still, he didn't hand her the bowl.
When the last spoonful was gone, he set it aside and Yao Yao leaned back, feeling the weight in her stomach at last.
The Spirit King stood up, his gaze skimming over her as if ticking off a list. "So. She's recovered—"
"She just ate. You can't send her back into the portal now." Rui's voice came out firmer than before, as if he already knew what the Spirit King was about to say.
The King blinked, one brow lifting. Back into the portal? He only wanted to take a closer look—to see why the abyssal still clung to her.
But Rui was already stepping forward, eyes dark with blame. "She's only a child. You can't throw her into a portal like that—especially not after what happened. And you and Kaireth both knew better, yet you still let her wander off alone."
The Spirit King's gaze sharpened. "You're blaming me for that?" His tone cooled, irritation flickering beneath the surface. "She was the one who stormed out on her own. And for the record, I'd just woken up."
Rui's jaw tightened. "Then maybe you shouldn't have let her walk away at all."
A beat passed. The King's patience thinned, a faint shadow crossing his face. Arguing with Rui—or justifying himself—felt like a waste of effort. With a flick of his hand, careless as ever, he turned aside. "Fine. Then you take care of her. When she's ready to fly through the portal, tell me."
That word caught her off guard. It pulled her back, reminding her why she was here in the first place—why she had come to this realm at all.
The Spirit King didn't linger. He turned and left, the door closing softly behind him. For a while, neither of them moved. Rui stared at the door, calm on the surface but already unraveling inside. That burst of courage had died a pathetic death. He could almost see it now—the petty revenge, the smug face, the miserable task waiting just for him after this.
He sighed, heavy and resigned, then turned around. Yao Yao was still staring at the door, looking small, confused, and a little lost.
"Do you want anything else?" he asked quietly, the regret still clinging to his tone.
She shook her head, then paused. After a heartbeat, she nodded instead. "I want a contract."
Rui froze.
She hadn't given up. Not after everything. If anything, she sounded more certain than before.
Back then, she'd treated this world like a story—strange, beautiful, but harmless if she just played along. Spirits had felt like characters, something to win over or collect.
But now she understood.
They weren't pets. They weren't even close.
If beings like them existed, she needed one on her side. And if her spirit happened to be an ancient, then all the more reason to make sure the bond belonged to her first.
Without another word, she slid off the bed. Her legs wobbled, scraping the floor, but she staggered forward anyway.
"Wait—what are you doing?" Rui reached out, trying to stop her.
"I need to talk to him," she said. Her steps faltered. A second later, her foot slipped, and she crumpled to her knees with a small yelp. "Ouch…"
"You can't walk. I—"
She looked up at him, eyes glossy, lips trembling. "Please?"
That look—small, wet-eyed, painfully earnest—hit him right in the chest. Rui let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders sinking in defeat.
***
Moments later, she was on his back, arms looped loosely around his shoulders, her cheek pressed to his collar. As they stepped past the dome, the world spread open—fields of grass fading into a ring of towering trees.
Yao Yao's eyes traced the horizon. In the distance, pale towers rose above the canopy, their peaks lost in mist. The sight pulled at her chest—it was vast, beautiful, and nothing like home.
Her hand lifted faintly, pointing. "What… what is that place?"
Rui followed her gaze, then looked away. "That's… a castle." The answer sounded dumb even to him. Of course it was a castle. What else could it be?
Ahead, a corridor of wood and vine stretched into the forest like an open gate. As they passed beneath it, the view widened—paths branching in every direction, one leading toward the towers, others slipping into the forest, unsheltered and fading where the eye could no longer follow.
Rui slowed, his eyes following the split paths ahead. Truth be told, he had no idea where the King had gone. Maybe the castle. Maybe somewhere else entirely. With that man, there was no telling.
And even if she kept chasing the idea of a contract, he couldn't possibly let her try binding the King, could he? The King wasn't just another spirit.
He adjusted her weight on his back and then turned toward the path curving away from the towers.
"Do you want to look around a little?" he asked, voice lighter than his thoughts.