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Chapter 373: Teamwork

The battlefield was chaos, but for the first time, Elara felt like she was starting to control it. Her frost magic had carved a clear space around her and thinned the relentless waves of smaller monsters. Her movements were more fluid now, her casts sharper and more deliberate as her confidence grew.

Still, her mana reserves were dwindling rapidly. She could feel the strain in the aching heaviness of her limbs and the faint buzz in her head as she pushed herself harder and harder. Her frost magic continued to hold the line, but each spell drained her a little more.

'I need to keep going,' she thought, her staff glowing faintly as she sent another volley of ice lances toward a snarling beast. The creature crumpled to the ground, frozen in place.

But then, her vision blurred for a moment, and she stumbled slightly. Her chest tightened as she realized what she had been avoiding for the past few minutes: she was running out of mana. Badly.

'I need a mana potion,' she thought, her fingers fumbling for the vial strapped to her belt. But the monsters weren't relenting, and as she paused to uncork the potion, a clawed beast lunged toward her, its glowing eyes locked on her exposed form.

Elara's heart jumped, and she swung her staff in reflex, but her movements were slower now, her mana nearly depleted. Just as the beast's claws came within inches of her, a flash of dark steel cut through the air.

SLASH!

The monster fell, its body cleaved cleanly in two. Elara staggered back, gasping as she looked up to see Luca standing before her, his black blade still humming faintly with energy.

"Need a hand again?" he said, his tone light but his sharp eyes already scanning the battlefield. Before she could respond, he added, "I don't have time to babysit, though. I need an opening."

Elara blinked, her chest still heaving as she struggled to recover. "An opening?" she repeated, her voice faint but questioning.

Luca nodded, his gaze shifting toward the massive serpent still circling them in the distance. Its glowing eyes burned with cunning, and its movements were calculated and precise. It wasn't charging blindly anymore. Instead, it was darting in and out of reach, striking quickly and retreating before Luca could land a decisive blow.

"That thing's too slippery," Luca explained, adjusting his grip on his blade. "It's playing hit-and-run, and if this keeps up, it'll wear us down. We need to pin it down—stop it from moving."

Elara's mind raced, the exhaustion momentarily pushed aside as she processed his words. She understood what he was asking. He needed her to immobilize the serpent, to give him the opening he needed to finish it. And she had a spell that could do it.

But it wasn't simple.

The magic that came to mind was powerful—far stronger than anything she had cast so far. A 4-star spell, intricate and demanding, one that required immense focus and time to channel. It could lock down even a monster as powerful as the serpent, but the cost was high. Casting it would leave her completely defenseless, and if her focus was broken, the backlash could cause severe internal injuries.

Elara hesitated, her fingers tightening around her staff as doubt flickered through her. Can I do it? she wondered. Trusting someone else to guard her was no small thing. But as her gaze shifted to Luca, something about him struck her.

The way he fought, with his back turned to her as if completely unbothered by the danger behind him. The way he moved with the assumption that she would handle the monsters flanking him. He trusted her without hesitation.

'I can do the same,' she thought, her resolve hardening. He's putting everything on the line out there. I can't just keep receiving, over and over. It's time I repay it.

"I can do it," she said, her voice firm despite the ache in her chest. "I'll cast something to lock it down."

Luca turned his head slightly, his smirk faint but approving. "Then I'll keep everything else off you. Just don't screw it up, mage."

Elara snorted softly, her lips twitching into a faint smile despite herself. "Don't plan to."

She planted her staff firmly, the frost around her feet swirling upward as she began tracing the complex sigils for the spell. The air grew colder, the mana around her shifting as she focused every ounce of her energy into the cast.

「Frozen Dominion」 (4-star spell)

The sigils glowed brighter, intricate patterns weaving through the air as Elara's mana surged outward. Ice began forming rapidly beneath her, spreading across the platform in jagged, crystalline patterns. Her hands trembled slightly as the strain set in, but she pushed forward, her focus unwavering.

The battlefield around her blurred into the background as she concentrated, her breath steady and measured. She could hear the distant roars of monsters and the sharp clashes of steel, but she trusted Luca to hold the line.

And hold it he did.

Every time a creature broke through, Luca was there, his blade moving with deadly precision. SLASH! THUD! Each strike cleared the path, ensuring nothing reached Elara as she cast. He didn't look back, but his presence was constant, unwavering.

Elara's chest burned with the effort, her mana reserves dipping dangerously low as the final sigil locked into place. The frost surged forward, racing toward the serpent as if alive. The ice coiled around its massive form, encasing its limbs and tail in unyielding bonds. The serpent roared, thrashing violently as the frost tightened, locking it in place.

"It's done!" Elara shouted, her voice hoarse but triumphant.

"Heh….Not bad, mage…."

It was now his moment.

"Leave it to me, now."

Luca raised his blade with deliberate grace, his right arm extended upward, the weapon held at a perfect 90-degree angle. The air around him shifted, growing heavy with an otherworldly presence. The faint glimmer of starlight mana began to coalesce around him, swirling like a constellation come to life.

Elara, though drained, couldn't help but feel her breath catch. She had seen him fight, but this… this was something entirely different. The mana resonating around him was extraordinary, luminous, and transcendent. It was as though the very cosmos bowed to his will.

The serpent continued to thrash against the icy bonds, its roars shaking the air, but Luca stood unmoving, the calm in the storm.

"Elara," he said softly, his voice steady yet carrying the weight of command. "You might want to step back."

She didn't question him. Planting her staff for balance, she staggered a few steps away, her eyes locked on the unfolding spectacle.

「Void Starfall Blade. Dance of the Celestial.」

The words left his lips, and Luca moved.

In an instant, he became a blur, his form vanishing and reappearing in sharp, precise arcs around the serpent. Each movement was impossibly fast, his blade leaving trails of pure starlight in its wake. The starlight hung suspended in the air for only a moment before exploding into bursts of radiant energy.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The battlefield was awash in brilliance as the serpent's roars turned into cries of pain. Each slash was precise, deliberate, and devastating. Seven times he passed around the serpent, each strike painting the air with celestial light, and each explosion tearing into the monster's colossal form.

Elara could hardly believe what she was seeing. The intricate, deadly dance was unlike anything she had ever witnessed, as though Luca himself was wielding the very heavens as a weapon. The serpent's once-imposing figure now writhed, weakened and ravaged by the unrelenting assault.

The seventh and final slash came, Luca moving faster than her eyes could follow. He reappeared directly behind the serpent, his blade raised in a finishing pose, starlight still cascading around him like falling stars.

For a moment, there was silence. The serpent froze mid-thrash, its body trembling as the remnants of the starlight energy surged through it.

Then, it collapsed.

The icy platform beneath it cracked under the sheer weight of the monster's fall, and a deafening crash echoed through the battlefield.

Luca exhaled slowly, lowering his blade. The starlight mana dissipated, leaving the space around him eerily quiet.

"It's done," he said, his voice calm but edged with the faint satisfaction of victory.

Elara stared at him, awe and exhaustion warring within her. She managed a faint, breathless laugh. "You… are insane."

Luca turned to her, smirking faintly. "Takes one to know one, mage."

Her chest tightened—not from exertion, but from the realization that the trust she had placed in him wasn't misplaced. She had witnessed his true strength, and it was both terrifying and breathtaking.

"Well," she said, steadying herself, "let's hope there aren't more of them."

He chuckled softly, sheathing his blade. "If there are, you'll have to freeze it too. No slacking."

Elara rolled her eyes, but the smile on her lips lingered.

It was strangely a satisfying fight.

Chapter 374: Teamwork (2)

Lucavion stood over the massive carcass of the serpent, his blade sheathed and his expression composed, though his sharp eyes betrayed the flurry of thoughts racing through his mind. The once-imposing creature lay broken, its twisted form sprawled across the icy platform. Around it, the shimmering frost from Elara's spell clung stubbornly, a testament to her effort and the magnitude of the battle.

As the others busied themselves tending to wounds and securing the battlefield, Lucavion extended his hand toward the fallen serpent, his palm hovering just above its lifeless body. The faint glimmer of mana pulsed in the air, invisible to the others but keenly felt by him as he drew in the creature's residual energy.

A chill ran down his spine as the death mana flowed into him—a cold, oppressive force that clawed at his very essence. Lucavion's smirk faltered for the briefest moment as he steadied himself, his body instinctively resisting the toxic energy before he wrestled it into submission.

'Indeed... that's why this thing was so powerful.' His dark eyes narrowed as he studied the serpent more closely. 'A peak 4-star monster, packed with enough death mana to rival anything in its class. No wonder it took so much effort to bring it down.'

[You're reckless,] Vitaliara's voice broke into his thoughts, her tone laced with exasperation. [I told you it was dangerous. Why risk yourself for this girl? What were you thinking?]

Lucavion chuckled softly, his smirk returning as he straightened, brushing his coat free of frost. 'I can't exactly say it's because of a promise, can I?' he mused inwardly, the weight of the unspoken vow lingering at the edge of his mind.

Instead, he answered aloud, his tone light and tinged with amusement. "Why not? Life's dull without a bit of danger."

[Vitaliara hummed in displeasure, her tail flicking against his shoulder. [You're deflecting. There's more to it than that.]

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "Maybe I just have a thing for saving mages in distress. It's good for my image."

[Your image?] Vitaliara's exasperation turned to incredulity. [Lucavion, you're impossible.]

He chuckled again, letting the sound carry away the weight of the moment. "Relax, Vitaliara. The risk was calculated."

[And here I thought you were good at math,] she quipped dryly, though the edge in her tone softened slightly.

Lucavion's gaze returned to the carcass, his smirk fading into something more contemplative. 'It wasn't just about the risk. This was necessary.' The death mana he'd absorbed would bolster his strength, albeit temporarily, but more importantly, it was another piece of the puzzle he was assembling—a step toward understanding the forces that shaped this world and the people within it.

He glanced over his shoulder toward Elara, who was seated on the platform's edge, catching her breath as Cedric handed her another mana potion. Her exhaustion was evident, but so was the faint smile on her lips—a mix of relief and satisfaction after the battle's hard-won victory.

'She's strong,' Lucavion thought to himself, his gaze lingering on her. 'As expected from Master….Your daughter is not an ordinary girl.'

Lucavion's smirk lingered faintly as he allowed himself a rare moment of quiet, his thoughts drifting to the words that had long since become etched into his memory:

"I am entrusting my daughter to you. Please look after her if you can."

The voice was as clear as if it had been spoken moments ago, yet it belonged to someone long gone—a presence that still loomed over his every action in subtle, inescapable ways.

Lucavion shook his head, exhaling softly as he let the weight of the memory settle before brushing it aside. 'Sooner or later, she'll become someone who won't need my help... at least not in terms of strength.' A faint smile curved his lips, not one of arrogance or amusement but something quieter. He looked over at Elara again, watching her recover, and nodded to himself.

'You're doing well, Master's daughter. Better than you know.'

Leaning against the platform railing, he took a moment to rest, his body still buzzing faintly from the energy he had absorbed. The death mana coursing through him felt cold and volatile, but it was under control—another tool to be wielded, another piece in the grander game he was playing.

But then, something shifted.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Lucavion's finely honed senses caught it immediately. A gaze—focused, deliberate—brushed against him, setting his instincts on edge. His dark eyes narrowed as he straightened, his posture relaxing outwardly but ready for anything.

'Someone's watching me.'

His gaze flicked toward the source, and there, perched at a small vantage point, he saw it. Another ship—a smaller, sleeker vessel that was distinct from the ones they had arrived with. Its design was streamlined for speed and mobility, its sails dark and faintly tattered, giving it an air of subtle menace. It hovered just outside the range of the main group, as though deliberately keeping its distance.

Lucavion's smirk returned, sharp and edged with intrigue. 'Hmm?'

His eyes traced the ship's outline, and through the slight haze of distance, he caught a glimpse of a silhouette—a blurred, shadowy figure standing near the prow. The figure was cloaked in black, its form indistinct but exuding an unmistakable presence, even from afar.

'Heh… Would you look at that?' Lucavion thought. He leaned casually against the railing, but his focus was locked entirely on the distant ship.

The silhouette didn't move, its gaze unwavering as if appraising him. The air between them seemed charged with unspoken tension, a silent exchange passing between two players yet to reveal their hands.

'Someone's curious, it seems,' Lucavion mused, his sharp eyes gleaming faintly with mischief. He inclined his head slightly, as though acknowledging the figure's attention, his smirk deepening into a grin.

Vitaliara's voice broke through his thoughts, her tone tinged with curiosity. [You noticed it too, didn't you?]

'Of course,' Lucavion replied inwardly, his tone as nonchalant as ever. 'It's hard to miss when someone's staring this intently. Do you think they like me, or is it something else?'

[They're not admiring you, you idiot,] Vitaliara retorted, though her tone carried a note of concern.

Lucavion chuckled softly, his smirk widening. 'How do you know? Wouldn't it be the natural reaction to admire after seeing this handsome face?'

Vitaliara let out a long, exasperated sigh. [Hopeless. Truly hopeless.]

'Why?' he asked, feigning innocence, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

[Sigh… Anyway, listen,] Vitaliara said, her tone shifting to something more serious. [I've been observing that ship while you were fighting. None of its members joined any of the battles. They only stood there, watching from a distance.]

Lucavion's smirk faded slightly, his expression becoming more contemplative. 'Interesting.'

[Especially that veiled girl,] Vitaliara added. [The one standing closest to the prow. She hasn't moved much, but she's been watching everything very carefully. Too carefully.]

'You can see that far?' Lucavion asked, a brow arching in mock surprise.

[Of course. We cats have excellent sight,] Vitaliara replied, her tone smug.

'I thought you weren't a cat?' Lucavion teased, his smirk returning.

[…]

The silence that followed was almost as satisfying as the argument he could feel brewing. He chuckled inwardly, savoring the rare moment when he managed to render Vitaliara speechless.

[Focus on the matter at hand,] she said finally, her voice clipped but tinged with reluctant amusement. [That ship and its passengers aren't here by coincidence. Whoever they are, they're not part of this expedition, and their behavior is suspicious.]

Lucavion nodded faintly, his eyes drifting back toward the distant vessel. The silhouette remained still, the veiled figure's presence radiating an unsettling calm amidst the chaos of the battlefield.

Or at least the author seemed to think so. Lucavion was simply unbothered by that.

'Now, I really wonder when you will approach me. I really tried to put a good show, you know?'

Lucavion tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful.

'Well,' he thought to himself, 'if they're this interested in me, I'll make sure to return the favor.'

[You're not planning something reckless, are you?] Vitaliara asked warily, though she already knew the answer.

"Me? Reckless?" Lucavion replied aloud, his tone light as he adjusted his coat. "Never. Just... curious."

[That's what I'm afraid of,] Vitaliara muttered, her exasperation returning.

Lucavion's gaze remained fixed on the distant ship as a soft sound of footsteps approached from behind. He didn't need to turn to know who it was—her presence was distinct, her mana faintly resonating with the frost that lingered in the air.

"Ahem…" Elara's voice broke the momentary quiet, hesitant but steady enough to catch his attention.

Lucavion turned his head slightly, his smirk already forming. "What? Is something the matter, mage? If you want to admire my handsome face, you can do so from afar. No need to force yourself."

Elara's face flushed instantly, a faint pink dusting her cheeks as she sputtered, "Wh-who! Who is here to see your face?"

Lucavion's smirk widened. "Then why are you here?"

Elara hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly around the staff she held. Finally, she sighed and spoke, her tone softer but still resolute. "…I'm here to thank you."

"Thank?" Lucavion arched an eyebrow, tilting his head curiously. "For what?"

"For saving me," Elara said, her gaze lifting to meet his. There was no hesitation in her eyes now, only sincerity. "Thank you, Luca."

'Well…..This may not be that bad…..'

Chapter 375: Thanks

The battlefield had finally fallen silent, save for the faint crackling of melting ice and the distant crash of waves. The serpent's massive corpse lay motionless, its once-imposing form now lifeless and fractured. The defenders—mercenaries, adventurers, and soldiers alike—moved cautiously through the aftermath, tending to the wounded and ensuring the remaining monsters had truly been vanquished.

Elara sat at the edge of the icy platform, her staff resting across her lap. Her body ached with a deep, bone-weary exhaustion, but for the first time since the battle began, she could breathe freely. She let her shoulders sag, her chest rising and falling as she drew in slow, measured breaths. Her frost magic had taken a toll on her mana reserves, and the strain of the final spell still left her feeling lightheaded.

The faint crunch of boots on ice drew her attention, and she looked up to see Cedric approaching. His face was pale, his usual vigor replaced by a tired heaviness that made him seem years older. Still, his movements were steady, and the faint glimmer of relief in his eyes spoke volumes.

"Lady Elara," he said softly as he crouched beside her, his gaze sweeping over her with a mix of concern and reassurance. "You did well."

She gave him a faint smile, leaning back slightly on her arms. "Thank you, Cedric. You don't look so bad yourself, considering…"

Cedric's expression tightened briefly, his hand brushing over the spot where he had been injured. Though the wound was fully healed, the natural recovery process of an Awakened always left its mark. His skin was pallid, his breathing slower than usual, but he dismissed it with a small shake of his head.

"It's nothing," he said, his voice steady but quieter than usual. "The body just needs time to recover its strength. You know how it is."

Elara nodded, understanding all too well. Using potions to heal the Awakened came at a price—rapid regeneration drained the body's reserves, leaving most pale and fatigued in the aftermath. It wasn't life-threatening, but it wasn't pleasant either.

"Even so, you should rest," she said, her tone firm but kind. "There's no telling what's next, and I need you at your best."

"I will try…."

As he said that, Cedric fell silent, just like Elara.

And that silence between them was comfortable, a brief reprieve from the chaos of the battlefield. The sound of distant waves crashing against the icy platforms and the occasional murmurs of the regrouping defenders filled the air. For a moment, it felt as though the weight of the world had lifted, if only slightly.

Then, the crunch of boots against ice drew their attention. Elara turned her head to see a small group of mercenaries and adventurers approaching. Their expressions were a mixture of respect and cautious admiration, their postures more relaxed than they had been earlier but still carrying the weariness of the fight.

One of them, a burly man with a scar running across his cheek, stepped forward. He carried his dented sword slung over his shoulder, and his leather armor was scratched and torn from the battle. Despite his rough appearance, his tone was surprisingly warm as he spoke. "You're Elara, right? The frost mage?"

Elara blinked, surprised by the directness. "Yes, that's me."

The man nodded, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "You did good out there. Better than most of us expected from a rogue mage. That wall of ice you threw up? Kept my squad from being overrun. You've got my thanks."

A few murmurs of agreement followed from the others in the group, and a slender woman with a bow slung across her back added, "And that storm spell—you froze those beasts right in their tracks. If it weren't for you, we'd have lost a lot more people."

Elara felt warmth bloom in her chest at their words, a mix of gratitude and pride that chased away some of her lingering exhaustion. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice carrying genuine sincerity. "I'm glad I could help."

The scarred man gave a short laugh, shaking his head. "Help? You did more than help. You've got talent, mage. And guts, too. That's rare."

Elara smiled faintly, the praise bolstering her confidence. She glanced at Cedric, who gave her a small, approving nod. The subtle gesture meant more than he realized; it grounded her, reminded her of how far she'd come.

For most of her time as a mage, she'd trained under her master in near isolation, honing her magic in quiet, focused discipline. She'd never had the chance to prove herself in the real world, to show that her efforts had amounted to more than just theory and potential.

'Now, I'm finally showing them,' she thought, the pride swelling further. 'All those years of training… they weren't for nothing.'

But as the mercenaries continued to voice their gratitude, the edges of her mind began to wander, her thoughts straying to a darker time. The memories came unbidden, fragments of her old self clawing their way to the surface.

She had started much later than most. While others her age had already begun their journeys as Awakened, she had been... different. Weak, broken, and left in a state that most wouldn't have survived.

'Not now,' she told herself firmly, her fingers tightening around her staff. 'This isn't the time to think about those things.'

But it was like trying to hold back a flood. The memories swirled, her thoughts pulling her toward the reason she had endured so much, the driving force behind her survival and the person she had become. And with those memories came the emotions—raw, volatile, and all-consuming. She could feel them rising, threatening to spill over like they always did when she let herself dwell on the past.

Her chest tightened, the weight of it pressing down like a stone. She forced herself to focus on the present, on the people standing before her, their voices grounding her in the moment.

Elara's fingers tightened briefly on her staff as she tried to banish the weight of her thoughts. Usually, in moments like this, she'd cast a spell—small, inconsequential magic, just enough to shift her focus and give her mind something else to latch onto. But right now, even the idea of summoning frost felt heavy. Her mana reserves were depleted, her body ached, and her spirit felt frayed.

She let out a slow breath, her eyes wandering aimlessly as the murmurs of the camp buzzed faintly around her. Then, her gaze caught on something—someone.

At the edge of the ship, near the railing, a figure stood silently watching the waves. His posture was relaxed, his coat swaying lightly in the breeze. Beside him sat a white cat, its fur luminous under the pale light. The cat's tail flicked idly, its bright eyes fixed on something unseen.

'Ah…'

It was Luca.

The perfect distraction, whether she liked it or not.

Her thoughts shifted naturally, latching onto the curious enigma of the man standing before her. Despite his calm demeanor, there was an intensity about him, a quiet power that she couldn't quite place.

Elara lingered a moment longer, her gaze fixed on Luca. As her thoughts swirled, she noticed a small group of adventurers standing nearby, their eyes subtly darting toward him. Their postures were hesitant, their voices hushed as they exchanged glances. None of them made any move to approach him.

'Hmm?' she thought, her brow furrowing slightly. It was odd. Luca had been instrumental in defeating the serpent, his strength and precision turning the tide of the battle. If anyone deserved thanks or recognition, it was him. And yet, they seemed reluctant—almost wary—as they observed him from a distance.

'Why aren't they saying anything?' she wondered. 'If it weren't for him, we wouldn't have made it through that fight. I wouldn't have made it.'

Her fingers tightened on her staff, the realization hitting her like a sudden gust of wind. She hadn't thanked him either. For saving her, for stepping in when she was moments from being overwhelmed, for holding the line so she could complete her spell. She had been so caught up in the aftermath—so consumed by her own thoughts and exhaustion—that she had let it slip entirely.

'Right… I should have done it way before.'

Elara didn't like owing people, and she especially disliked the idea of being ungrateful; gratitude wasn't optional. If someone helped you, you acknowledged it. You made it right.

And yet, here she was, standing idly while the person who had saved her life was left alone, unthanked.

'That's not right.'

Elara took a steadying breath and made her way toward the railing where Luca stood, the faint echoes of her boots against the deck betraying her approach. Her chest tightened slightly, but not from nerves—from determination. This was something she had to do, and she wasn't about to leave it unfinished.

Luca didn't turn as she neared, his gaze fixed on the distant waves and the faint silhouette of a ship in the horizon. Beside him, the white cat stretched lazily, its serene posture mirroring his unbothered demeanor.

"Ahem…" Elara's voice broke the quiet, her tone hesitant but clear enough to pull his attention.

Luca turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at her. A familiar smirk curved his lips. "What? Is something the matter, mage? If you want to admire my handsome face, you can do so from afar. No need to force yourself."

Elara felt heat rush to her face, her cheeks tinged with an unmistakable blush. "Wh-who!" she sputtered, clutching her staff tighter. "Who is here to see your face?"

"Then why are you here?"

For a moment, Elara hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the smooth surface of her staff. The teasing in his voice was infuriating, but it didn't shake her resolve. She straightened her posture, meeting his gaze squarely.

"I'm here to thank you," she said, her voice soft but firm.

Luca arched an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "Thank?" he repeated, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity. "For what?"

"For saving me," Elara replied, her voice gaining steadiness as she spoke. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and lifted her gaze fully to meet his. There was no waver in her expression now, only sincerity. "Thank you, Luca."

For a moment, Luca said nothing. His dark eyes studied her, the teasing smirk fading slightly into something subtler—something unreadable. Then, with a faint chuckle, he turned back to the horizon.

"Well, I guess it's nice to be appreciated for once," he said, his tone lighter now. "But you're welcome, mage. Don't get used to it."

Elara crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Luca glanced at her, his smirk returning. "It means I don't make a habit of saving people who almost get themselves eaten. Consider it a one-time favor."

Her blush deepened, and she fought the urge to stomp her foot like a child. "I didn't almost get eaten! I was just… momentarily overwhelmed."

"Mm-hm," Luca hummed, clearly unconvinced. "If that's what helps you sleep at night."

"You really…."

"Impossible?"

"….."

She started regretting talking to this man.

Chapter 376: Thanks (2)

Elara pursed her lips, glaring at Luca as he casually leaned against the railing, his smirk unrelenting. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks again, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered.

"You really are impossible," she muttered, her voice carrying a mix of annoyance and resignation.

"Impossible?" Luca repeated, his tone light and teasing. "I think the word you're looking for is charming. It's a common mistake."

Elara crossed her arms tightly, narrowing her eyes. "Charming? You've got to be kidding me."

"Not at all," he replied smoothly, gesturing toward himself. "I mean, look at me. Saving lives, cracking jokes, looking this good while doing it—it's a package deal."

She rolled her eyes so hard she almost worried they'd get stuck. "You're about as charming as a frostbite spell in the middle of summer."

"Hmm," Luca mused, tapping his chin as though considering her words. "So what you're saying is, I leave a lasting impression? I'll take it."

Elara groaned audibly, shaking her head. "How do you even do this? How do you make everything sound like a compliment to yourself?"

"It's a skill," he said with a shrug, his smirk widening. "You know, like magic. Except my talent doesn't require mana—just natural brilliance."

Elara stared at him, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to formulate a response. Finally, she jabbed her staff lightly against the deck in frustration.

"You are really annoying."

"And yet," Luca replied, leaning slightly closer with a conspiratorial grin, "here you are. Talking to me. By choice, I might add."

"I came to thank you," she shot back, her voice firm. "Not to… to be verbally assaulted by your inflated ego."

"Assaulted?" Luca feigned a look of shock, pressing a hand to his chest. "You wound me, mage. I'm merely having a friendly conversation. Should I be offended that you don't seem to be enjoying it?"

"Oh, I'm enjoying it," Elara said, her tone sharp. "I'm enjoying imagining myself freezing your boots to the deck."

"Careful," Luca said, his smirk morphing into a playful grin. "If you start casting spells on me, I might take it as flirting."

Elara's cheeks turned crimson, and she sputtered, "Flirting?! Are you delusional?!"

"Delusional?" Luca echoed with mock indignation. "Now you're just being cruel. You really need to work on your gratitude, mage."

"I already thanked you!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "And now I'm regretting every second of it."

"You'll get over it," Luca replied casually, turning his attention back to the waves as though their exchange hadn't just unfolded. "Besides, I've already forgiven you."

"Forgiven me?" Elara's voice pitched higher, her indignation spilling over. "For what?!"

"For making me deal with your almost-eaten self back there," he said, his tone light but unmistakably smug. "It was a close call, you know. Very stressful for me."

Elara clenched her fists, her patience fraying. She opened her mouth to fire back another retort but stopped herself, realizing she'd only be playing into his hands. She took a slow breath, straightening her posture.

"You know what?" she said, forcing her voice into something resembling calm. "I'm done. I've said my piece, and you can stand here with your natural brilliance and… whatever else it is you do. I have better things to do."

Luca's smirk grew as he glanced at her. "Running away already? I was just starting to enjoy myself."

"I'm not running away," she snapped, spinning on her heel. "I'm preserving my sanity."

As Elara stormed away, Luca's laughter erupted behind her, a deep, hearty sound that echoed across the deck. It was genuine, loud, and completely unexpected, catching the attention of a few nearby adventurers who exchanged curious glances before quickly looking away.

Elara froze mid-step, her hands tightening into fists as she turned halfway, glaring at him. "What's so funny?!"

Luca leaned slightly against the railing, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. "Out of all the reactions I've gotten," he began between chuckles, "this one's definitely one of the best."

Her brow furrowed further, her annoyance flaring. "What about it is funny?"

He tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost mischievous. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice still carrying traces of his laughter. "It just… sounded funny."

Elara stared at him, her expression teetering between incredulous and indignant. "Sounded funny? That's it? That's all it takes for you?"

Luca shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. "Isn't it enough?"

"No!" she snapped, throwing her hands up. "I don't get what's funny about it!"

"Me neither," Luca said, his grin widening even further.

"Then why are you laughing?" Elara asked, her voice pitching higher as her frustration reached its peak.

"Is there supposed to be a reason? If you really want to find a reason to laugh every time, it makes sense why you have such a clumped face."

Elara's expression darkened, a visible vein popping on her forehead as Luca's words sank in. "'Clumped face'?" she repeated, her voice low and dangerous.

"Yeah," Luca said with a casual shrug, as though he hadn't just insulted her. "You know, all tense and scrunched up. Like you're carrying the weight of the world on your forehead. Very clumped."

Her grip on her staff tightened, and before she could stop herself, she marched back toward him, standing directly in front of him with a glare that could freeze an entire battlefield. "My face is not clumped!" she snapped, her tone sharp and indignant.

Luca tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned down, lowering his gaze to meet hers directly. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Elara could feel her irritation simmering beneath the surface. But then, his gaze shifted subtly, his dark eyes trailing over her skin with a scrutinizing yet oddly casual air.

"Hmm," Luca murmured, his smirk fading into something resembling thoughtfulness. "Some small… burps. Maybe a few cracks. Nothing too much."

"B-Burps?! Cracks?!" Elara sputtered, her cheeks flushing with a mix of indignation and embarrassment. "What are you even talking about?!"

But before she could say more, she felt it—a faint warmth brushing against her face, soft and fleeting, like a whisper of air. Luca's breath tickled her skin as he spoke, his closeness suddenly undeniable.

That's when she realized just how close they were. Their faces were mere inches apart, his dark eyes unwavering as they held her gaze. Her heart skipped a beat, and her blush deepened as the realization hit her like a freight train.

'Just now… that…'

Her mind reeled, and in an instant, she stumbled back, putting a solid distance between them. She clutched her staff tightly, her pulse racing as she tried to compose herself. Her thoughts spiraled, and a faint tremor ran through her hands as she clenched them around her staff.

'After all this time… I promised myself…' she thought, her chest tightening. She had always kept her distance from men, a deliberate choice born from a vow she had made long ago. She had sworn never to let herself get close—not physically, not emotionally. And yet…

Her gaze flicked to Luca, who now stood with his usual air of nonchalance, completely unfazed by her retreat. His smirk had returned, and he looked at her with that infuriating mix of amusement and curiosity.

"But…" she thought, her grip loosening slightly. Something about him felt different—irritating, sure, but also disarming in a way she couldn't quite explain.

Luca raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he broke the silence. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"….Huh?"

Elara blinked, jolted back into the moment by Luca's question. "What?" she managed, her voice a little more high-pitched than she intended.

Luca tilted his head, his smirk curling further as he leaned slightly against the railing. "I said, did I say something wrong? About the burps and cracks. You seemed… flustered."

Elara's eyes widened slightly as his words registered. Without thinking, she brought her fingers to her cheek, pressing lightly against her skin. And sure enough, she felt it—the faint, uneven texture he had so casually pointed out. Tiny imperfections, barely noticeable, but there nonetheless.

Her brows furrowed as her fingers brushed over the spots, confirming what Luca had said. Normally, she prided herself on being honest, even when it meant accepting things she didn't like. It was her motto, after all—to acknowledge the truth, face it head-on, and grow stronger because of it.

But this?

This was different. This was Luca. And she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.

"No," she said sharply, lowering her hand and glaring at him. "You're wrong. There's nothing there."

Luca raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her denial. "Nothing there?" he repeated, his tone teasing. "Then what were you just feeling for?"

"I wasn't—" Elara cut herself off, her cheeks flushing as she realized how ridiculous she sounded. She straightened her posture, gripping her staff tightly. "Your eyes are probably just… faulty. That's all."

"My eyes are faulty?" Luca echoed, his smirk growing impossibly wider. "That's a new one. Most people find them quite sharp."

"Well, not in this case," Elara shot back, her tone defensive. "You're clearly imagining things."

"Yep, yep….Surely….."

"….."

Just then, as they were speaking Elara noticed something.