✦━━━━⛧━━━━✦
Gods above... this woman is a menace.
"I'm keeping the bond anyway. No way I'm cutting it. Not like I plan on binding with anyone else."
Ashen blinked... then exhaled slowly.
"...Sure."
"Oh!" She perked up again, remembering something. "By the way, I think I can't bond with anyone else. It feels like this skill only works on one person at a time."
Ashen gave her a flat look.
"Yeah... if you could slap this bond on every random person you met, that'd be completely busted."
"True, true." She bobbed her head in agreement, looking utterly unbothered by the limitation.
As he felt that hidden thread between them pulsed faintly, subtle and steady, like a heartbeat echoing in the distance, Ashen exhaled slowly.
"Well... looks like we're stuck with each other now."
Seraphine's eyes softened, "I'm fine with that."
For once, there was no teasing. Just a quiet truth.
"..." Ashen silently appreciated her warmth, thinking that blissful aura really suited her.
"Now, how about we test the skill's other functionality?" He asked.
Seraphine froze.
Unfortunately for her, her brain had already sprinted several laps ahead, conjuring images far too obscene for polite company.
Different ways to please him... to test if those sensations would ripple across their bond.
Ah...
Her imagination was a traitor.
A sharp SLAP snapped her out of it.
She jolted, lifting her head to see Ashen casually slapping his forearm, the sound sharp enough to echo.
"Did you feel anything from that?" he asked, tilting his head like an innocent devil.
Seraphine squinted at him.
"You slapped yourself... to see if the pain would transfer?" She gave him a look, equal parts deadpan and unimpressed. "Out of all possible sensations, you chose pain? Ash... are you a masochist or something?"
Ashen's brow twitched.
Without mercy, he reached over and ruffled her hair wildly, like he was trying to tangle cotton candy in a hurricane.
"You little minx," he muttered darkly. "It was the fastest method I could think of on the fly. Don't make it weird."
Seraphine struggled against his merciless assault, her hair dangerously close to resembling a bird's nest. Still, after a beat, she sighed.
"Nope. Didn't feel a thing. Maybe the sensation has to pass a certain threshold before it carries over?"
"Maybe," Ashen agreed, finally letting her go. "Honestly... probably for the best. It would be a nightmare feeling every little itch or scratch your partner gets."
He leaned back, thoughtful. "Since the bond's active all the time, we'll figure it out sooner or later."
"Mhm." Seraphine dusted herself off before perking up. "By the way, when are we finally buying new gear and weapons? We've been hoarding points like gremlins."
Ashen blinked. "Oh, right. It's only a week left before we leave this place."
He gave her a look.
"Tomorrow, then. And let's drag Braun with us."
Seraphine grinned, throwing him a thumbs-up.
"Deal!"
❖⛧❖
Looking for gear was harder than they thought.
Everyone in the city seemed to have the same idea. Every weapon and armor vendor was flooded; shops crammed wall to wall with desperate trainees waving points around like beggars at a feast.
Still, after days of searching, haggling, and near fistfights over half-decent scraps, Ashen and his companions finally walked away armed with the best their dwindling points could buy.
The price?
They were broke again… Utterly, gloriously broke.
Now, on the last day of their stay, every Esprerian trainee was gathered in a large hall not far from the academy grounds. It was a final gathering before they were thrown to the wolves.
Ashen entered the venue with Braun and Seraphine flanking him like shadows.
The ambiance was... surprisingly professional. Soft lighting. Neutral colors. Almost inviting, like the room was politely pretending it hadn't spent the last six months trying to kill them.
'Guess we've earned the bare minimum of respect after surviving with all our limbs intact…' Ashen mused.
His eyes swept the room. A massive polished table dominated the center, surrounded by cushioned seats; more than enough to hold the remaining survivors.
At the far end of the hall, an elevated podium waited. Empty. For now.
They took their seats.
The podium didn't stay empty for long.
Cornelia arrived with all her sharp charisma and iron presence radiating. Her boots clicked against the polished floor like a metronome counting down the last seconds of peace these trainees will ever know.
At her side, Sabrina followed. One step behind. Quiet. Mirroring her like a shadow stitched from loyalty and menace.
The room fell silent the moment Cornelia reached the podium.
Ashen tensed, memories rewinding at the back of his mind.
Her first speech still haunted him. "Pigs in human clothing." That line stuck like a scar… and after the debauchery, violence, and bitter losses of the last six months? He wasn't sure she'd been wrong.
Cornelia's voice cut through the quiet; It was clear, heavy, and impossible to ignore.
"Look at you," she began, not warm, but not entirely mocking either. There was a smirk there. Razor-thin.
"Six months ago, half of you couldn't stand in the presence of a beast without pissing yourselves. Now? Now you're almost something resembling soldiers."
A beat of silence ensured.
"Out there," she jerked her chin toward the distant, unseen world beyond these walls, "the bubble you call this city won't protect you. The enemies won't care about your training. The people you're supposed to protect won't thank you. And the ones standing beside you?"
Her gaze swept them, slicing across the room like a knife, resting on faces just long enough to brand the moment into memory.
"Some will betray you. Some will break. Some will become worse than the things we're fighting."
She stepped forward. Slow. Measured. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sheathed sword.
"But today, right now, you are still clean. Still whole. Still human."
Her voice lowered. Steel wrapped in something far more unexpected coming from her: Sincerity.
"So remember this: when the fear takes over… when the blood and the screams and the rot sink into your bones… decide what kind of monster you're willing to be."
A beat.
Then, quieter, almost gently… she finally added.
"And try to come back alive."
Without another word, she stepped down.
The pride in her eyes stayed unspoken but unmistakable nonetheless.
One thing is for sure, mercy had no place where they were going.
❖⛧❖