He hesitated. "You fell. You stopped breathing for a mont."
She blinked. "So your solution was to hug back to life?"
He looked briefly offended. "I was ensuring your pulse."
"Uh-huh," she murmured. "Totally professional."
He stared at her, baffled, as if she’d just spoken in another language.
But she wasn’t paying attention anymore. Her eyes fluttered shut again, exhaustion finally winning.
And he—still crouched in the moonlight, her body limp against his chest—looked down at her and exhaled slowly.
She was still breathing. Thank the gods.
Around them, the little cave creatures began creeping out once more, their soft voices whispering awe. Glimora padded forward, climbing onto Isabella’s stomach, curling up protectively.
The phoenix man glanced at the strange glowing flower now lying dim beside them, its light almost gone. He didn’t understand what had just happened—he wasn’t sure he wanted to—but he knew one thing clearly.
This woman was not ordinary.
He tightened his hold on her slightly, just to steady her, his expression unreadable.
Outside the cave, the mountain wind howled once and then went still, as if the world itself had paused to watch them.
And in the glow of the dying moonlight—
She stirred faintly, her breath brushing against his collarbone, her fingers curling as if reaching for sothing unseen.
He froze, still holding her.
She jerked upright so fast the man almost dropped her. Her hair—still damp from the waterfall—clung to her neck, the ends dripping onto his arm. For a mont, neither spoke. Then Isabella, chest still heaving, realized where she was and who was holding her.
Her brows knit.
"Why are you still holding ?"
Before he could answer, she snatched her fan off the ground, flicked it closed with a snap, and wiped his arm with it like he was dirt she wanted gone.
"Let warn you," she said, breath sharp, tone deadly calm, "you better stay away from . Don’t be nice to . I don’t need you for anything. If I’m dying—leave alone."
Her voice echoed across the stone walls, strong enough to startle a few of the smaller creatures back into hiding.
The man just blinked at her. His hair—golden blond, catching the moonlight like spun fire—dripped water down his temple. He looked utterly baffled. "For soone so small," he said slowly, "you have a lot of temper."
Isabella froze. Her head turned toward him with a asured slowness that made his pulse jump.
That glare—Gods above, that glare.
He actually took a step back. His eyes darted, not-so-discreetly, to her fan. The sa fan he’d just seen slice monsters like paper. His throat worked once in a nervous swallow.
He wisely said nothing after that.
Isabella gave a satisfied little hum, flipping her hair back. "That’s what I thought." She turned to add sothing else—but paused.
Her brow furrowed. Then lifted.
"Oh my gods..."
Her voice was soft this ti, awed. She touched her stomach, then her throat. The air felt... alive. She could hear faint vibrations—small, shimring sounds humming from every direction. She could feel the waterfall’s pulse like it had rged with hers.
"I feel—different," she whispered. "Lighter. I can hear... everything."
Her eyes went wide, lips parting. "I hear magic!"
In her mind, Bubu’s dry tone cut in. That’s not magic, you idiot. That’s qi circulation. Your ridians just opened. You’re hearing energy flow.
"Oh my gods, so that’s what this is?" Isabella gasped, spinning slightly. "I can cultivate better now? Faster?"
Yes, Bubu sighed. But please refrain from—
"Oh my god, I could twerk!" she squealed, cutting the system off.
There was a beat of silence.
The phoenix man blinked, clearly wondering if he’d heard her right.
Then, in his head: This woman has lost her mind.
Isabella spun again, arms raised like she was celebrating her own rebirth. "Finally, finally sothing works in my favor!"
Her hair whipped around her like ribbons of dark silk, glowing faintly under the moonlight still pouring through the cave ceiling. She looked wild—half divinity, half disaster—and yet, sohow, radiant.
The man just stared, unsure if he should laugh or prepare for her to explode again.
Then, abruptly, she stopped. Her gaze fell on the Moonpetal Lily still gleaming faintly near the water. "Right. You," she muttered, bending to pick it up. She slid it carefully into her spatial pouch, humming under her breath. "Safe and sound, my pretty little pain source."
Bubu’s faint chuckle echoed in her mind. You are in a disturbingly good mood.
"Shut up," she said out loud, grinning anyway. "Let have this."
The man’s eyebrows rose slightly. He followed her as she twirled once more before sitting down heavily near the fire pit, still damp, still smiling like she’d just won the universe.
He studied her. She was unpredictable—soft one second, sharp the next. And maybe it was the faint glow still coming off her skin, but she looked... stronger. Prettier, even. Her presence filled the space now, no longer that of a lost human girl but sothing else entirely.
He frowned at the realization, then quickly looked away when she caught him staring.
"What?" she said, squinting at him.
"Nothing."
"Uh-huh."
Her suspicion lingered a second longer, then she shrugged, too pleased with herself to start another fight. "You were watching , weren’t you?"
He stayed silent, which was answer enough.
She laughed quietly to herself. "I know. I was amazing."
He exhaled through his nose, the faintest hint of a smile threatening at the corner of his mouth. Gods help him, he thought, she’s going to be trouble.
And then—
"Ow!"
She winced as she moved her leg. Her smile faltered. She glanced down—and froze.
Her leg. The sa one that had been slashed open by that creature. There was no blood. No wound. Not even a scar.
The man noticed at the sa mont. "Your injury—"
"I know," she whispered, touching her skin. It was smooth, soft, completely healed. "It’s... gone."
That’s when the realization hit her.
"Oh my god," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "That stupid system. That’s why it disappeared. It knew."
Bubu popped up imdiately in her mind, sounding smug. Correction: I made an efficient decision.
"Efficient my ass," she muttered. "You ditched while I was bleeding!"
I calculated there was no need for dicinal purchase. You were about to undergo ridian cleansing, which healed injuries as a by-product. Economical.
"Economical?" she hissed. "You almost gave a heart attack!"
You’re welco.
She pressed her palms to her face, groaning. "I hate you so much, you little square of deceit."
Love you too, Host.
She peeked through her fingers. "You stupid system. I know you love . You just don’t want to admit it."
I do not feel emotions.
"Yeah right," she said out loud, grinning. "Sure, I totally believe you."
The phoenix man, watching this one-sided conversation, blinked. His face said everything—he was questioning all his life choices that led him here.
Then her stomach growled. Loudly.
She sighed. "Ugh, I’m starving."
Before she could say anything else, he straightened. "I’ll go hunt for you."
The way he said it—calm, assured, protective—hit her harder than it should have. For just a mont, it sounded exactly like Cyrus.
The sa tone. The sa steady certainty.
Her smile faded.
Her breath caught without warning.
And just like that, the bright sparkle that had filled the air dimd again.
The cave fell quiet.
He didn’t notice what his words had triggered. He only saw her face—how her laughter stopped like soone had blown out a candle.
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