"Quillin seed, Kraken's welt…" Azalea muttered, scanning over the list of ingredients he'd need for his first potion.
"Haah… haah… haaa…"
He blinked, still floating midair, as a familiar figure dragged herself out of the ruined cave.
Anna.
She looked like she'd crawled from the edge of death. Hair scorched, eyes unfocused, body trembling.
He held her gaze for a long moment.
She looked nothing like the prim, proper girl she used to be.
"You're late," he said coolly. "You shouldn't breathe for an hour. Then we can go."
"AZALEAAAAA!" she screamed hoarsely before collapsing, clutching at her throat.
He didn't even glance down. Just floated there.
She was already a step from insanity, and he hadn't even done anything yet. What if he actually gave her back every ounce of torment she'd put him through? Would she survive it?
Probably not.
The Elven Empire.
Some of the rare ingredients he needed might be found there.
"No… wait," he murmured to himself. "This timeline…"
A spark of possibility flickered in his mind.
What if I just… saved her?
His eyes closed.
"Vivian."
If things were following the game's storyline, then right now she was being secretly abducted—spirited away to Morntelia by that psychotic king who orchestrated a whole massacre just to steal her.
She was supposed to be headed to a border town to heal a curse—blessing of life, rare as hell. But the king had caught wind of it. So he launched a flawless operation: Tier-five beast attacks, internal sabotage, guards overwhelmed… She vanished without a trace.
If he could intercept them—
"Alright," he said, "that's more convenient."
His mind kicked into overdrive, running tactical paths and alternate routes. Something he'd never done seriously before, not in this world.
They wouldn't risk Ezram's border patrols. Too risky. So they'd take the long route—through Jarel-infested forest.
That gave him roughly ten days. Maybe less.
Except...
He frowned.
"No. They're past that by now."
The kidnapping occurred a week after the Vermillion Academy's closure. That meant they were already halfway to Morntelia. No teleportation—too risky. Identity traces, border flags, too much heat.
He closed his eyes, thinking harder.
Silence.
Then—snap.
His eyes shot open.
"Got it."
He looked down.
Anna was staring at him, wide-eyed, lips turning blue.
"You can breathe," he said at last, drifting down beside her.
She gasped, her lungs finally allowed to function. "Please… let me go. Please!"
He tilted his head, mocking.
"Funny. I think a young man once begged a sadist the same way."
"Get up," he said flatly. "Take me back to the hotel."
She gritted her teeth but complied.
He could already sense it. They didn't have long. The Estellians would trace his location soon if he lingered here. But he remained calm.
Fear… was an emotion he no longer possessed.
Anna closed her eyes. Mana wrapped around them both. She whispered the incantation—
And in the next heartbeat—
Flash.
A ceiling.
They were back.
The hotel room.
He turned to her without looking. "Go get me something to eat."
She stared at him, incredulous. Then scowled. But after a moment, that anger slipped into something duller.
"…Alright," she muttered, and left the room.
The door closed.
And Azalea collapsed to his knees.
"Haah… haah… haaah…"
His breath came ragged and sharp. "What's… happening…?"
He bit his lip, trying not to pass out. The pain in his chest was crushing.
He'd suspected it. He'd known there would be a cost.
To wield such control over another being—to dominate their very breath—it had to come at a price.
He clenched his teeth and tried to circulate ether through his core.
It didn't work.
The pain only grew.
"Haahh… haaah…"
Then, finally, it faded.
He sat there, sweating, trembling. Then—
Something was wrong.
It felt like… something left him.
His body shivered.
"What the hell is the price I have to pay?" he growled through clenched teeth.
Then—
[#$%^&*()_]
[No price is too great for revenge.]
[An evil entity smiles at you.]
He stared at the message.
An evil entity?
Was this the thing that had given him the power?
He exhaled sharply.
"Forget it."
There was no point dwelling on what he couldn't understand. Not now.
Then—
Click.
The door opened.
Anna entered, still looking like a storm-tossed mess.
"Here's your food…" she muttered, trying and failing to sound annoyed.
"Who said it was for me?" he asked, not even turning.
Her eyes widened.
"What…?"
"Eat it. Fast. We're leaving."
She froze.