The air inside the cavern burned.
Every breath scraped Ronan's throat, thick with sulfur and rot. The ground beneath their boots was slick and uneven, eaten away by poison that had soaked into the stone over years. A dull green light came from patches of moss and fungus clinging to the walls, casting long, warped shadows across the cavern.
Ronan slowed, lifting a fist.
The party halted behind him.
Something moved ahead.
At the far end of the cavern, a massive shape shifted. Scales dragged against stone with a rough, grinding sound. Slowly, a large head lifted from the haze. Two golden eyes opened and locked onto them.
The poison dragon was awake.
It was larger than Ronan expected. Its body looked bloated and uneven, covered in cracked scales stained green and purple. Poison leaked from its mouth with every breath, dripping onto the floor and pooling around its claws.
Ronan tightened his grip on Raijin.
"Positions," he said, keeping his voice level. "Don't rush it."
"Vanya, be ready."
She nodded and drew mana in, her palms faintly glowing green.
Ysarael stepped forward without drawing her sword, eyes focused on the dragon's legs.
Jareth moved wide, spear in hand, testing his footing as he went.
He grinned.
"Let's see if this thing likes being poked in the eye!"
The dragon moved first.
Its tail swung through the cavern without warning.
"Move!"
Stone shattered where it struck. Jareth jumped, using his spear to push himself onto a rocky ledge as debris scattered across the floor.
The dragon roared. The sound echoed through the cavern, rattling Ronan's chest.
Ronan surged forward.
Lightning burst from Raijin and slammed into the dragon's chest. Scales cracked and blackened, but the dragon barely reacted. It pulled back, poison spilling from its jaws.
Too shallow, Ronan realized. Too early.
"Ysarael!"
She was already acting.
A fox-shaped spirit leapt forward, its pale flames biting into the dragon's leg. A second later, a massive bear spirit slammed into its side, forcing it to stagger.
The dragon shrieked, enraged.
That was when it exhaled.
Poison flooded the cavern in a rolling wave, thick enough to blur vision and choke breath.
"Behind me!" Vanya shouted.
She drove her staff into the ground.
"O Mother of Verdant Grace, Shield those under my care!"
An emerald barrier flared to life around them just as the poison hit. The shield shook under the pressure, its surface rippling as the poison ate at it.
Vanya gritted her teeth and pushed more mana into the spell.
"Hold," she muttered. "Just… hold."
The words slipped out low and sharp—unlike her.
"Just a little longer. Not today, you damn lizard."
None of her comrades noticed.
Perched high on a jagged stalactite, Jareth kept moving above them, hurling spear strikes whenever an opening appeared. He aimed for the eyes, the throat—anywhere exposed.
Neither side gave ground.
Inside the barrier, time slowed. Breathing was hard. No one spoke.
The poison pressed harder. Sweat ran down along Vanya's brow.
When the poison thinned, Ronan moved.
Lightning gathered along Raijin, heavier than before. He stepped forward, planted his feet, and swung.
The strike tore into the weakened joint Ysarael had opened.
The dragon screamed.
Its leg gave way with a sharp crack. It staggered but stayed upright.
"Still standing," Jareth muttered from above.
Ysarael raised her hand.
"Go," she whispered.
From her palm, a spear of spirit energy formed and shot forward, piercing the dragon's chest. The impact forced its head back, exposing its throat.
"Now!" Jareth yelled.
He dove.
His spear drove into the hollow beneath the dragon's jaw. The dragon convulsed, poison spilling from its wounds as its body trembled.
Vanya reinforced the barrier again, this time to contain the unstable magic leaking from the dragon as it began to collapse.
The dragon shook once.
Then it fell.
The impact sent dust and stone raining down.
Silence followed.
Ronan let the lightning fade from Raijin. His arms shook as the tension drained away. He took a slow breath and sat heavily on a nearby rock.
Vanya lowered her staff, nearly losing her balance before steadying herself. Ysarael watched the corpse, unmoving, until she was certain it was dead.
Jareth climbed down and leaned on his spear.
"…That," he said after a moment, "was way too close."
No one disagreed.
The poison dragon lay still.
They had done it. An S-rank dragon—slain without any major injuries.
Skill. Teamwork. And maybe… just a little luck.
.
.
.
With the danger gone, the cavern felt different. Quiet. Heavy.
Jareth was already moving.
He circled the fallen dragon, eyes sharp, pulling a leather-wrapped tool from his belt.
"Alright, let's get this over with," he muttered. "Guild'll pay a fortune for the core."
He knelt near the ribcage and worked quickly. Metal scraped against bone as he made the first incision. A faint glow leaked from within.
Ysarael folded her arms, watching with faint amusement. Around her, her beast spirits had shrunk into smaller, ghostlike forms, drifting lazily near her shoulders.
One—an ethereal fox no larger than a teacup—let out a high-pitched giggle.
Another, a translucent bear cub, rolled slowly through the air, its misty paws swiping playfully.
"You're awfully eager to get your hands dirty, Jareth." Ysarael raised a brow, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"I thought you were a refined spearman."
The fox spirit giggled again.
Jareth paused, glancing over his shoulder.
"Hey, a job's a job. And besides," he added with a grin, "refined spearmen need to eat too.
This core'll cover years' worth of meals—and a new spear. Maybe two."
With a practiced motion, he pulled a crystalline sphere free from the dragon's chest. It pulsed faintly in his gloved hands.
"Still warm," he muttered. "That's a good sign. Core's intact."
Nearby, Vanya had moved to Ronan's side.
Raijin's lightning had dimmed to a faint hum. Ronan sat on a low rock, shoulders heavy, the blade planted in the dirt beside him.
Vanya knelt, her hands glowing softly as she examined him.
"Are you alright, Ronan-sama?" she asked gently. "That final strike… you pushed yourself too far."
Ronan let out a quiet chuckle, fatigue edging his voice.
"I'm alright—thanks to you, Vanya." He smiled faintly. "Your barrier was… as always, a lifesaver."
He met her eyes, the meaning clear without needing to say more.
Color bloomed across Vanya's cheeks.
"It's… it's my duty," she murmured.
Her eyes betrayed her.
Each time she healed him, each time she watched him throw himself into danger without hesitation, something in her chest tightened. Ronan rarely said much, but the way he trusted them—trusted her—made her look away more than once.
Admiration had come easily. What followed had not.
Ysarael, finished observing Jareth's meticulous work, turned toward the pair with an almost feline amusement.
She had noticed the glances. The way Vanya lingered. The softness that crept into her voice whenever Ronan was involved.
"My, my," she purred.
"Such tender attention," Ysarael said lightly. "Are you sure you're not overdoing it, Vanya? He's tougher than he looks. He won't crumble from a bruise or two."
Vanya froze.
Color flooded her cheeks in an instant.
"I—I was just—!" she stammered, completely blindsided.
Ronan chuckled quietly. Ysarael's smile widened in satisfaction.
Nearby, Jareth—completely oblivious—examined the dragon's eyes with satisfaction.
"Alright… got the goods," he muttered.
"These beauties'll fetch a pretty price…"
He straightened, brushing dust from his knees.
"Now let's get outta this stinking cave before my boots start melting."
.
.
.
They exited the cavern under a dark sky. Stars were scattered overhead, the moon thin and pale.
They walked in silence beside a river as the land changed. Trees grew thicker. The air turned cold.
"Where are we?" Vanya asked, her voice barely louder than the rustling leaves.
"The edge of the Forbidden Forest," Ysarael murmured, eyes narrowed at the creeping dark. "We shouldn't be here this late."
Then they saw it.
Across the river, deeper within the tangle of trees, stood a house—small, ancient, unassuming… and profoundly wrong.
Too quiet.
Too still.
A cold, unnatural presence clung to it like a shroud
"I don't like that place," Vanya breathed, unease curling into her voice.
Ronan's eyes stayed locked on the structure.
"Something's… off."
Ysarael's expression turned grim.
"We shouldn't linger. The Forbidden Forest at night is not something we want to deal with. This place is crawling with high-ranking monsters. If they catch our scent, we won't last long."
Vanya shivered. The forest felt too quiet—like it was listening. Without realizing it, she drifted closer to Ronan, hands tucked into her sleeves.
Jareth noticed.
"Boo!"
He clapped sharply behind her.
"Eep!" Vanya yelped, stumbling back, hand flying to her chest. "J-Jareth!"
Jareth burst into laughter. "Gotcha! Oh come on, that was priceless."
She shot him a withering glare, cheeks flushed with fear and fury.
"That wasn't funny!"
Ysarael sighed. "You'll be the first one eaten if you keep making noise like that."
Ronan didn't laugh.
His gaze never left the distant house.
"Not the time or place, Jareth," he said quietly. Firm. "Vanya's already on edge."
He turned to the group.
"That house feels wrong. We shouldn't go near it. We'll head back and make for the capital instead. It's longer—but safer than staying here."
Uneasy glances passed between them. Then, one by one, they nodded.
Sensing the lingering tension, Ronan let his tone soften.
"Don't worry," a small smile tugging at his lips.
"We've been through worse than a spooky forest. Remember the Shadow Caves? When Jareth tried to convince us those glowing mushrooms were edible.
Jareth snorted. "They did look delicious! And they smelled like roasted garlic!"
Vanya giggled softly, tension easing from her shoulders.
"You almost ate one, didn't you?"
"Almost is the key word," Ronan replied, casting Jareth a sidelong look. "Luckily Ysarael has a sharper nose for danger—and toxic fungi—than Jareth."
Ysarael smirked. "Someone had to stop him. I wasn't about to let him poison us all."
Jareth scoffed, mock offended.
"Next time I won't share the mushroom stew I nearly died for."
Laughter rippled through the group as they continued on.
The forest remained vast and dark around them—but their shared warmth pushed the fear back, if only a little.
* * *