That was the opening they needed.
Yoru moved first, surging forward in a blur as he used the wyvern's hesitation to close the distance. With a single fluid step, he drove himself up along the creature's frame, twisting as he reached its head. Mira's needle flashed in his hand before plunging straight into the wyvern's eye.
His arm met resistance.
For a split second, it held – bone, pressure, something unyielding – but Yoru didn't stop. He forced his arm deeper into the wound, pushing through until the resistance gave in. The needle punched through the socket and buried itself deep into the brain.
The wyvern's body seized violently. Its massive jaws snapped shut just short of Sera, the force of it shuddering through the cave as the creature convulsed once – and then went still.
Silence followed.
The cave rang faintly with the echo of impact, heat clinging thickly to the air as dust drifted from the ceiling and settled across the creature's unmoving body.
For a moment, no one moved.
Sera remained crouched where she was, the red gem clenched tightly in her hand. Her breath came sharp and uneven as she stared at the wyvern's jaws, still hanging open inches from her. Too close.
Slowly, she rose and stepped back.
Behind her, Kael let out a strained, breathless laugh as he dragged a hand across his bloodied face. "Well," he muttered hoarsely, "that worked."
Yoru dropped lightly to the ground beside the creature's ruined head. He said nothing at first, but his gaze flicked toward Sera – sharp, deliberate. Kael and Darien hadn't noticed, but Yoru had. In that final moment before the kill, the wyvern had flinched, as if it had been afraid of her.
Darien exhaled, long and controlled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Calder," he said, already moving again, refusing to let the moment linger.
"Calder's stable," Ophelia called from the far side of the cave. "Exhausted, but stable."
Hibiscus sat beside her, visibly shaken but conscious, her hands pressed against Mira's abdomen as her guiding continued. Her breathing was still uneven, and her gaze remained fixed on the fallen wyvern, as though she couldn't quite believe it was over.
Sera didn't look at them. Her attention remained on the creature.
Something stirred beneath her skin – low, insistent, and not her heartbeat. The scent of the corpse – iron, heat, and something deeper threaded through its flesh – curled into her lungs and lingered there, sharp and intoxicating. It settled in her chest, heavy and wrong, yet impossible to ignore.
Her fingers tightened faintly at her side.
She wanted to eat it.
Not the flesh. The vessel.
A faint pressure bloomed in her chest, separate from her own pulse, as though something inside her had leaned forward at the idea – alert, attentive.
Hungry.
Sera inhaled slowly, forcing the feeling down and pressing it back into the quiet dark where it belonged.
Eating a vessel was not the same as killing. It was something else – closer to consuming the core of a being, uncomfortably close to the idea of a soul. Something that would disrupt its cycle of reincarnation.
The thought unsettled her.
When she lifted her gaze, she found Yoru already watching her. His expression was composed, but there was a sharpness behind it now, as if he had noticed something he couldn't quite explain.
"Quick thinking," Darien's voice cut in before anything could pass between them.
"Good work, Yoru. Sera," he said, his grey eyes flicking between the two of them. There was approval in his tone, but it didn't soften its edge. "But don't do that again."
His gaze settled squarely on Sera. "If your gamble hadn't paid off, we would have all been dead." Sera offered a small, resigned smile, though she didn't argue.
"But it did," Darien continued, exhaling as he gingerly touched the back of his head. "We made it out with all of us alive. I doubt other squads were so lucky."
He straightened, slipping back into command. "Yaret."
"Y–yes!"
Hibiscus scrambled to her feet, movements hurried and unsteady. Now that the danger had passed, the weight of everything seemed to crash down on her at once. Her shoulders tightened, her gaze lowering as if afraid to meet anyone's eyes.
"We all need guiding," Darien said. "Do it now. Then we move."
"Yes, sir!"
"Sera."
"Yes, Leader Holt."
"Take one of the wyvern's horns. We'll need proof for Commander Thern."
"Yes, sir."
Hibiscus moved to Kael, her guiding flaring faintly back to life beneath her palm, a pink cherry blossom glow rising from her fingers.
Sera stepped closer to the wyvern. The body still radiated heat as she crouched near its head and gripped the base of one horn. Drawing her dagger, she drove the blade into it, chipping away in short, controlled motions. The horn resisted, dense and stubborn beneath the blade.
Inside her, something stirred.
No, it churned.
The wyvern's vessel was still there, fading but not yet gone.
Her grip tightened.
I could do it.
The thought came quietly, almost rational. No one was watching closely.
I could take it.
Her mana slipped from her palm in a thin, controlled thread, seeping into the horn and into the creature beyond. It moved carefully, searching through the fading remnants until she found it – faint, flickering, fragile, as though it were dissolving at the edges but still intact enough to grasp.
Her mana wrapped around it. Immediately, something deep inside her responded. Her core tightened, reacting with a sudden, undeniable hunger.
"What are you doing?"
Yoru's voice cut in, quiet and far too close.
Sera startled, her mana snapping back into her like a recoiling blade.
She turned toward him. "I–"
"You'll take forever like that," he said, already stepping in.
He took the dagger from her and adjusted his grip, turning the blade so it sat low and tight against his palm, angled inward for leverage rather than reach. Without hesitation, he drove it into the base of the horn and twisted hard. The blade bit deep, and with a subtle shift of pressure, the horn began to loosen.
"Sera," he said, still working the blade as he leaned in closer than necessary, until their noses were only inches apart. His gray eyes held hers, cool and steady beneath the shadow of dark lashes.
"Can I have a session tonight?"
Sera held his gaze. There was no mistaking it, he had noticed. The wyvern's fear – the moment that hadn't made sense.
"Yeah," she said softly, giving a faint, deliberate nod. "I'll come to your room…after dinner."
Yoru's mouth curved slightly as he tapped his forehead lightly against hers, brief and deliberate. "Good."
With a final twist, the horn tore free. He handed it back to her.
"Oy…are you two done flirting or what?"
Kael's voice cut sharply across the cave, snapping the moment cleanly in half.
"Evening's your prime time, Sera?" he added with a faint smirk. "Figured you'd be more useful once the lights go down."
"It is her prime time," Ophelia said evenly as she rose from where she had been kneeling, tending to Darien's head injury, her hands still faintly glowing white.
"You wouldn't know. You've never tried. She's very good."
Kael scoffed, but the sound lacked its earlier bite.
"Sera," Ophelia continued calmly, "add me for an extra session later, if you can. I enjoyed the last one." She paused briefly. "I liked what we did with our…tongues." Darien shook his head.
Kael froze. His head whipped towards Ophelia. Color surged across his face in an instant as he looked at her, completely thrown. His mouth opened, then closed again, like he couldn't decide what reaction to settle on.
"Ophelia–your… what?" he managed, the words stumbling out a beat too late.
Ophelia deliberately avoided his gaze in a huff.
Sera let out a soft, unbothered laugh. "I'll see what I can do."
Yoru's gaze shifted between them, a faint grin forming.
"Teaching our innocent priestess new tricks?" he murmured, under his breath, to Sera.
"She's a fast learner," Sera replied just as quietly. "Surprisingly eager."
His grin deepened.
"Give it time," she added, a hint of amusement threading her voice. "She'll break a few hearts."
Her red eyes flicked briefly toward Kael. "She's already started."
Yoru let out a low chuckle, and Sera's smile mirrored it – brief, shared, and gone just as quickly.
"Sera, come guide Mira some more," Darien said.
"Alright."
Mira was slumped where she sat, her body loose with exhaustion but not fully gone. Her eyes tracked Sera's approach, unfocused but aware.
Sera crouched in front of her. "What's your comfort range?" she asked quietly.
Mira blinked once, slow. "Close is fine," she said. "Just…don't linger."
Sera nodded. "Got it."
She shifted forward and drew Mira into a firm, controlled hold, chest to chest. One arm settled around her shoulders while the other braced at her back to keep her upright. Mira's chin came to rest lightly against Sera's shoulder as Sera angled her own against Mira's, their bodies aligned in close contact. Sera straddling her legs.
Mira tensed at first.
"Easy," Sera murmured.
After a moment, Mira exhaled and let herself settle.
Sera let her mana flow.
It slipped into Mira's system with little resistance, threading through the remnants left behind by the wyvern – thick, uneven strands of polluted mana clinging to the edges of her vessel. Hibiscus had stabilized Mira well; what remained would be easy to handle.
A guide would have drawn out the leftover pollution, purified it, and returned it. Sera didn't. She pulled it in, her vessel steadily consuming the tainted mana as it broke down within her. A small sigh escaped her; feeding, even a small amount, eased the tension.
The corruption vanished, leaving behind a brief hollow in its place. Sera filled it immediately. She couldn't return what she'd taken, only replace it, so her own mana flowed in instead, blending seamlessly into Mira's system. It settled cleanly, smoothing out the imbalance without disruption.
Mira wouldn't notice. None of them ever did.
Mira's grip tightened faintly at Sera's shoulder, then eased. "Next time…" she murmured, her voice low near Sera's ear, "warn me before you use my needle like that."
"Noted."
A brief silence passed.
"You're an Armament priestess, right?" Sera asked.
"…Something like that."
"You didn't like the contact."
"I don't like people touching my weapons," Mira said quietly. "They don't like it either."
Sera stilled slightly at that, the thought clicking into place. Most mana users who relied on weapons formed a bond with a single one or pair over time, refining it until it felt almost alive. Until it was alive, in rare cases.
Mira wasn't like that.
Even now, Sera could sense it – multiple threads, distinct, each anchored to a different weapon and held together through careful control.
More than one. More than two.
That wasn't common. Or easy.
"Four?" Sera asked.
"…If I push it I can do five, but I'll end up half dead. Still working on that last one – he's a little prickly."
"Impressive."
Mira let out a faint breath. "Just because I have more doesn't mean I like people touching them." Bonded weapons were personal.
"Fair."
Sera finished smoothing the last traces of impurity from Mira's core. The difference was subtle but unmistakable.
"Hn…" Mira murmured as her eyes lowered, exhaustion finally pulling her under. "…Ophelia's right. This is nice…why is that…? You barely…did anything…"
Her voice faded into sleep.
Sera let out a quiet breath, the corner of her mouth lifting faintly. "Yeah," she said softly. "I know." She held the contact for a moment longer, letting the last of her mana and her thoughts settle, before easing her grip and pulling back.
As she straightened, her gaze caught Hibiscus's. For a brief moment, they held it.
Something flickered across Hibiscus's golden eyes – tight, conflicted – before she looked away, her shoulders drawing in slightly as she turned back to her work.
As Sera rose fully, Mira's weight tipped forward without her support. Yoru stepped in at once, catching her and shifting her onto his back with practiced ease. She made a small, tired sound but didn't resist, her weight settling naturally against him.
Darien's gaze moved over the group, taking in their condition. "We've rested enough," he said. "Regroup. We're moving."
The squad stirred back into motion.
Kael pushed himself upright with a grunt as Ophelia steadied him, while Darien moved ahead to check the exit path. Yoru adjusted Mira's weight slightly, both arms hooked securely beneath her legs as he straightened. Hibiscus followed, her arms crossed and gaze down, a defeated expression tense across her face.
Sera lingered for a moment longer, her gaze drifting back to the wyvern's body, now still and silent in the settling dust.
The hunger remained – not sharp, but persistent – and this time it wasn't empty. In her core, the wyvern's vessel turned slowly where she had quickly tucked it away, fragile and unstable, its edges beginning to fray as it lingered within her. Something that would not last forever.
She could consume it now, end that quiet tension, or let it sit a little longer and decide later.
Sera drew in a slow breath and let the thought settle. Later. When no one was around.
She turned away.
"Move," Darien said.
And this time, they did.