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Chapter 8 - A Cold Rescue

Lyria Vaeloria sat at the head of the polished mahogany table in the grand conference room of the Vaeloria Corporation, a towering entity in the financial world. Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back, and her piercing blue eyes were fixed on the documents in front of her. The room was adorned with opulent decor, gold trim, and intricate tapestries that spoke of the family's old money and influence. Despite the luxury surrounding her, Lyria's demeanor was as cold as the marble floors beneath her feet.

Her colleagues—executives, board members, and advisors—sat around the table, their faces a mix of respect and unease. Lyria was known for her efficiency and ruthless decision-making, qualities that had propelled her to the top of the corporate ladder. She had little patience for incompetence, and it showed in her interactions.

"...and as such, the new merger proposal will need to be reviewed before we proceed," one of the executives concluded, his voice tinged with nervousness.

Lyria nodded curtly. "Very well. Ensure that all revisions are completed by the end of the day. I expect a full report on my desk first thing tomorrow."

The executives scrambled to jot down notes and gather their things, eager to escape the room. As the last of them departed, Lyria remained seated, her gaze distant. She had been mired in corporate affairs for weeks, her focus solely on maintaining and expanding the family's business empire.

The door to the conference room opened, and her father, Alden Vaeloria, and her mother, Isolde Vaeloria, entered. Their expressions were a mix of concern and displeasure, an emotion Lyria had become accustomed to in her interactions with them.

"Lyria," Alden began, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "We need to discuss something important."

Lyria's gaze remained fixed on the documents before her. "I'm busy, Father. I have a lot on my plate."

Isolde's eyes narrowed. "This is about your future, dear. We need to talk about your personal life."

Lyria's shoulders tensed. "What about it?"

"You're twenty-five now," Isolde said, her tone clipped. "It's time you considered finding a suitable partner. You can't be so consumed with work that you neglect your personal life."

Lyria's eyes met her mother's with a frosty intensity. "I'm perfectly capable of managing both my career and my personal affairs. I don't see why it's any of your concern."

Alden's face hardened. "It is our concern because it reflects on the family. You're a powerful mage, a successful businesswoman. It's high time you secured a position that complements our standing."

Lyria's expression remained impassive. "And what if I'm not interested in securing a partnership? I have other priorities."

Her mother's gaze softened slightly, though it was still stern. "Lyria, we understand that you have your ambitions, but finding someone to stand beside you is also important. We don't want you to regret neglecting this aspect of your life."

The conversation was familiar, a recurring topic that Lyria had grown weary of. "I appreciate your concern, but I have matters to attend to. If there's nothing else, I'd like to get back to work."

Alden and Isolde exchanged a glance but said no more. They knew that pushing Lyria further would be futile. They left the room, their footsteps echoing in the corridor.

Lyria's expression darkened as she turned her attention back to the documents. She was a formidable mage of SS-rank, capable of manipulating reality itself. The thought of her parents' expectations seemed trivial compared to the responsibilities she bore. Yet, their words lingered in her mind, mingling with the personal conflict she had been grappling with.

Finishing her work, Lyria took a moment to reflect on her actions. She had always been stoic, keeping her emotions tightly controlled. But there was something about Amara that stirred something in her—a feeling she couldn't quite place, one she hadn't allowed herself to explore fully.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden alert on her phone—a news feed notification about an unusual surge in activity at a dungeon location. The report mentioned a high-ranking monster appearing in an E-rank dungeon, an anomaly that raised concerns.

Lyria's eyes narrowed as she read the details. She immediately recognized the name of the dungeon: the Glimmering Cavern. The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. Amara had gone to that dungeon, and if there was an S-rank monster there, the situation could be dire.

Without wasting a moment, Lyria stood up and activated her reality manipulation powers. The world around her warped, bending to her will as she teleported to the Glimmering Cavern. She materialized outside the dungeon entrance, her presence commanding the air with an unspoken authority.

Inside, the cavern was eerily quiet. The shimmering crystals reflected distorted patterns of light, casting strange shadows on the walls. Lyria moved with purpose, her footsteps soundless as she descended into the depths of the dungeon.

Her keen senses picked up the residual magic, the faint traces of battle, and the lingering stench of blood. As she navigated the labyrinthine corridors, she could feel the oppressive aura of the S-rank monster.

When she reached the chamber where the battle had taken place, the sight that greeted her was grim. Amara lay unconscious on the floor, her body battered and bruised. The colossal demon loomed over her, its eyes glowing with malevolent satisfaction. The demon's massive claws were poised to deliver the final blow.

Lyria's eyes turned an icy blue, and reality itself seemed to shiver in response. She raised her hand, and the chamber's temperature dropped drastically. The demon roared in surprise as a torrent of ice shards erupted from Lyria's outstretched hand, encasing it in a freezing prison.

The demon struggled, its roars echoing through the chamber as it fought against the ice. Lyria advanced, her expression cold and determined. She approached Amara, her concern for the mage evident despite her usual composure.

"Amara," Lyria said softly, kneeling beside her. She gently touched Amara's forehead, the warmth of her hand contrasting with the chill of the dungeon. Amara remained unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady.

Lyria's eyes softened as she took in Amara's bruised and battered form. The sight of her vulnerable stirred an unfamiliar pang in her heart. She could feel the weight of her emotions pressing against her carefully maintained facade. She had seen many things in her life, but the sight of Amara's suffering struck a chord she hadn't anticipated.

Standing up, Lyria turned her attention back to the demon. She extended her hand, manipulating reality to create a barrier of pure energy around the creature. The ice prison and energy barrier combined, containing the demon and neutralizing its threat.

Lyria then turned her focus to Amara. With a gesture, she conjured a portal to the surface, where she carefully lifted Amara into her arms. The portal shimmered, and they emerged outside the dungeon.

The night air was crisp and cool as Lyria carried Amara to a nearby safehouse she had prepared for emergencies. She set Amara down gently on a plush bed, her fingers brushing against the mage's hair with a tenderness she rarely exhibited.

While waiting for Amara to regain consciousness, Lyria made sure to administer a healing potion she had brought with her. It was a potent elixir, designed to speed up recovery and mend severe injuries. She sat beside Amara, her gaze unwavering, as the potion worked its magic.

Lyria's mind raced with thoughts, her feelings a tumultuous blend of concern and something deeper—something she had tried to ignore. The responsibility she felt for Amara's well-being was palpable. She had always maintained a stoic exterior, but in this moment, the walls she had built around her emotions began to crack.

Amara's eyelids fluttered, and she slowly regained consciousness. Her eyes met Lyria's, and she seemed disoriented but relieved to be out of the dungeon.

"Lyria," Amara croaked, her voice weak.

Lyria's gaze softened, though her voice remained as cold as ever. "You're safe now. Rest."

Amara blinked, taking in her surroundings. "What happened? How did I get here?"