Dabria knelt beside Visha, her crimson eyes still glowing faintly, though the wild fury had ebbed, replaced by a deep, aching concern. Her hands, now steady and clawless, pressed firmly against Visha's wound. Blood oozed between her fingers, pooling into the dirt, and the sight of it sent another ripple of rage through her chest. But now wasn't the time for anger. Visha needed her.
"Stay with me, Wifey," Dabria murmured, her voice trembling but determined. Her void aura, once an uncontrollable force of destruction, now shimmered faintly around her hands, its energy focused on slowing the bleeding and stabilizing Visha's condition. "You don't get to leave me. Not yet."
Visha's eyelids fluttered, her pale-green eyes opening slightly. Her gaze was hazy, her usual sharpness dulled by pain and blood loss. "You… always so dramatic," she whispered faintly, a ghost of her usual smirk tugging at her lips.
Dabria let out a breathy laugh, tears glistening in her crimson eyes. "And you're still sassing me even when you're bleeding out. Typical."
The Crimson Lions approached cautiously, their weapons still drawn but lowered. Ryker's gaze flicked between the collapsed lion's remains and the scene before him. "Is she… going to be okay?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
Dabria shot him a glare that could have frozen the air itself. "She'll be fine," she snapped, her voice sharper than a blade. "I won't let her be anything else."
Talia stepped forward, her eyes wide as she surveyed the destruction around them. "Dabria… that power… what was that?"
"It was her saving Visha," Kalum muttered under his breath, his tone both awed and uneasy. "And killing a goddamn S-Rank beast while she was at it."
Elias crouched a short distance away, examining the lion's core where Dabria had discarded it. The orb pulsed faintly with residual energy, its glow eerie and unnatural. "The lion was tethered to the labyrinth," he said quietly, his analytical mind already working. "Taking it down might have weakened the miasma's influence in this area."
Ryker nodded, his gaze returning to Dabria and Visha. "If that's the case, we need to keep moving. But we can't leave her like this."
Dabria didn't look up, her focus entirely on Visha. "She's stronger than any of you realize," she said softly, though her voice carried an edge of steel. "She'll survive this. But we need to find a safe zone, or the miasma will undo everything I've done to stabilize her."
Visha's weak chuckle broke the tension. "Don't… talk like I'm already dead," she muttered, her voice barely audible. "It's… annoying."
Dabria's expression softened, her lips twitching into a faint, pained smile. "Oh, Wifey, you're going to regret saying that when I make you drink my 'healing brew.'"
"I'm sure your potions taste like death," Visha murmured, her eyelids fluttering closed again.
"They work," Dabria replied, her voice quieter now, tinged with a rare vulnerability. "And that's all that matters."
As the group deliberated their next steps, one of Visha's Venomweaver spiders scuttled into the clearing, its emerald-green fur shimmering faintly. It clicked its mandibles, emitting a strange chittering sound that Dabria recognized immediately as a signal. The spider was calling her attention, beckoning them to follow.
Dabria glanced up at the group, her crimson eyes still glowing faintly. "It's found something," she said, her voice steady. "A safe zone."
Ryker nodded sharply. "Then let's move. Kalum, Ox, help carry Visha."
Kalum hesitated, his eyes darting nervously to Dabria. "You sure she won't, uh… kill me for touching her?"
Dabria's glare was icy. "If you don't help, I'll kill you."
That was enough motivation for Kalum to move quickly, stepping carefully as he and Ox lifted Visha's limp form. Visha let out a faint groan of protest but didn't resist, her strength too drained to argue.
The Venomweaver led them through the labyrinth, its movements quick and deliberate. The group followed closely, their weapons drawn and their senses sharp. The miasma seemed to thin slightly as they moved, the oppressive weight lifting just enough to give them a sliver of hope.
Finally, they emerged into a small clearing, sheltered by massive, glowing trees that radiated a faint, soothing light. The air here was cleaner, the miasma held at bay by the natural barrier of the trees. A shallow spring bubbled in the center of the clearing, its water shimmering with a faint, healing aura.
"This will do," Dabria said, her voice soft but resolute. She knelt beside Visha as Kalum and Ox carefully laid her down. "It's not perfect, but it'll buy us time."
Ryker sheathed his sword, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "We'll rest here. But we can't stay long."
As the group settled in, Dabria began preparing one of her infamous potions, her hands steady and precise despite the lingering tension. The others watched in silence, their gazes flicking between Visha's pale form and the strange, serene beauty of the clearing.
Dabria worked quickly, her movements precise as she mixed ingredients from her spatial ring into a small, intricately carved vial. The clearing, though serene, carried an undercurrent of unease, as though the labyrinth itself was biding its time. The faint hum of energy pulsing through the air was a constant reminder that they weren't out of danger yet.
Visha stirred slightly, her pale-green eyes fluttering open. She let out a faint groan as her gaze settled on Dabria, who was hunched over her, grinding some kind of luminous herb into a paste. "You're… hovering," Visha muttered weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dabria glanced down at her, her crimson eyes softening slightly. "And you're bleeding," she replied, her voice a mixture of annoyance and concern. "I think we're both a little out of character today, don't you?"
Visha let out a faint, dry chuckle, though it quickly turned into a wince as pain flared through her side. "Point taken."
Kalum sat a short distance away, leaning against one of the glowing trees and watching the exchange with wide eyes. "She's already cracking jokes," he muttered. "How is she not dead?"
"She's not dead because I won't let her be," Dabria snapped without looking up, her voice sharp. "And because she's stronger than any of you cubs can imagine."
Ryker, standing at the edge of the clearing with his arms crossed, spoke up. "How long until she can move again?"
Dabria scoffed softly, carefully pouring a dark, viscous liquid into the glowing paste she had prepared. "If she drinks this," she said, holding up the mixture, "she'll be strong enough to walk in a few hours. Whether she'll want to after tasting it is another matter entirely."
Talia raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a faint smirk. "That bad, huh?"
"Worse, I'm sure," Visha murmured, her voice faint but tinged with humor. "If the taste is what I'm imagining, I'd rather fight another S-Rank lion."
"Stop complaining," Dabria said sharply, though her tone carried a trace of fondness. "It's saving your life."
Ox, who had been sitting silently by the spring, finally spoke, his deep voice rumbling through the clearing. "What was that thing? The lion?"
"A miasmic apex predator," Visha replied softly, her gaze distant. "S-Rank. It shouldn't have been wandering so close to the surface. Something is driving them out."
Elias adjusted his glasses, his expression thoughtful. "The labyrinth is alive, you said. Could it be directing the creatures to test us? To weed out the weak?"
Visha nodded faintly. "Possibly. Or it's simply reacting to intruders. Either way, it's not going to let us reach the Core without a fight."
Dabria finished mixing the potion and held it out to Visha. "Drink," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Visha glanced at the vial, her nose wrinkling slightly. "Do I have a choice?"
"No," Dabria said sweetly, shoving the vial closer. "And if you complain again, I'll make the next one even worse."
With a resigned sigh, Visha took the vial and downed its contents in one quick motion. She gagged slightly, her face contorting as the bitter, metallic taste spread through her mouth. "You weren't kidding," she muttered, handing the empty vial back to Dabria.
"I never do when it comes to you," Dabria replied with a smug grin, tucking the vial back into her spatial ring. "Now rest. Let it work."
As Visha settled back against the soft grass, Ryker turned his attention to the rest of the group. "We need a plan," he said firmly. "This labyrinth is throwing everything it has at us, and we can't keep taking hits like this."
Kalum glanced at him, his expression uneasy. "What if this isn't everything? What if the worst is still ahead?"
Ryker's jaw tightened. "Then we deal with it. But we need to be smarter. No more wandering blindly. Dabria, your hellhound—can it scout ahead?"
Dabria raised an eyebrow, her crimson eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, you want my help now? How charming."
Ryker frowned. "You've seen what this place can do. We need every advantage."
Dabria tilted her head, considering his words. Finally, she let out a soft sigh and gestured for her phantom hellhound to step forward. The massive creature, wreathed in smoke and shadow, growled low in its throat before turning and disappearing into the labyrinth.
"It'll find us a path," Dabria said, her voice light but laced with menace. "But if you insult it, don't expect it to come back."
Ryker didn't dignify that with a response, instead turning his focus back to the group. "Rest up while we can," he ordered. "We move as soon as we have a direction."
The clearing fell into a tense silence, the faint sound of the bubbling spring the only reprieve from the suffocating atmosphere of the labyrinth. Visha's breathing steadied as the potion took effect, her strength slowly returning. Dabria remained at her side, her crimson eyes sharp and watchful, daring the labyrinth to send another challenge their way.
The clearing remained cloaked in an uneasy quiet, the oppressive miasma beyond the protective glow of the trees still a stark reminder of the labyrinth's hostility. Visha had drifted into a fitful sleep, her breathing slow but steady as the potion Dabria prepared began its work. The group sat scattered around the clearing, their nerves frayed but their bodies grateful for the brief respite.
Unbeknownst to them, something was stirring within Visha. As her body rested, a faint, sickly green glow began to emanate from her wound, spreading outward in slow, pulsing waves. Her [Poisonous Healing] skill had activated, a passive ability tied intrinsically to her nature as a Wraithborne and her [Pestilent Harbinger] class.
The miasma, a deadly toxin to most, was a source of life for Visha. Her body absorbed it instinctively, drawing it in through her pores and turning the poison into fuel. The air around her shimmered faintly, the toxic energy condensing and funneling into her wound. The edges of the injury began to knit together, the raw flesh regaining its color as the miasma sped up her natural regeneration.
Dabria noticed the change almost immediately. Her crimson eyes widened slightly as she leaned closer, watching the green glow pulse from Visha's body. A small smile curled her lips, though it was tinged with a hint of melancholy.
"You really are remarkable, Wifey," Dabria murmured, her voice soft enough not to disturb the others. "Even the poisons meant to kill us keep you alive."
Kalum, sitting a few feet away, frowned as he noticed the faint green glow. "Uh… is that normal?" he asked cautiously, pointing toward Visha. "She's… glowing."
"It's some type of [Healing] skill," Dabria replied, her tone calm but tinged with pride. "A passive one. Her body converts poisons into healing energy, I think. The miasma isn't killing her—it's saving her."
Ryker, who had been standing at the edge of the clearing, turned sharply at her words. "That's… how is that even possible?"
"Because she's Visha," Dabria said simply, as though that answered everything. She leaned back, her eyes never leaving Visha's form. "She's built differently, Guild Master. Don't try to understand it. Just be glad she's on our side."
Ox let out a low grunt, his gaze fixed on Visha. "Makes sense now. Why she wasn't affected like the rest of us."
Talia, sitting cross-legged by the spring, shook her head in disbelief. "A skill that turns poison into healing? That's insane. And kinda terrifying."
Dabria chuckled softly, her crimson eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, darling, you don't know the half of it. Visha isn't just surviving in this labyrinth—she's thriving. This place was practically made for her."
As the group watched in uneasy awe, the green glow around Visha began to fade, the wound on her side now completely closed. Her breathing deepened, steadier now, and her pale-green eyes fluttered open.
"Talking about me while I sleep?" Visha muttered, her voice still faint but carrying its usual sharpness. "How charming."
Dabria grinned, leaning closer with mock affection. "Oh, Wifey, you know we can't help ourselves. You're just so fascinating."
Visha sat up slowly, wincing slightly as she stretched. The miasma around her seemed to react to her movement, swirling faintly before dissipating. "I feel… better," she admitted, her hand brushing against where her wound had been. "The passive kicked in, I take it?"
Dabria nodded, her smile softening. "It did. You're lucky this place is so full of poison. Anywhere else, that wound would've taken days to heal."
Visha's gaze flicked to the others, noting their wide-eyed expressions. "You look surprised," she said dryly. "What did you think? That I'd just keel over and die?"
Kalum scratched the back of his head, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I mean… no, but—"
"Yes," Talia cut in bluntly, earning a glare from Kalum. "We thought you'd die. That was a lot of blood, you know."
"Well, I didn't," Visha said matter-of-factly, pushing herself to her feet. "And now that I'm not bleeding out, we need to keep moving. The labyrinth isn't going to wait for us." She brushed off her coat, the remnants of blood already dried, and glanced around at the Crimson Lions, her pale-green eyes sharp as they swept over the group.
But even as she spoke, her gaze lingered on their faces. Kalum's pallor was concerning, and Talia's labored breaths were becoming more noticeable. Even Ox, who had recovered slightly after her earlier potion, was moving with visible effort. The miasma was eating away at them, and while they'd managed to push through so far, Visha knew it wouldn't last. She let out a low sigh, muttering under her breath. "Tsk. Inefficient."
"What?" Ryker asked, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing in concern.
Visha turned to face him fully, her expression unreadable. "The lot of you are barely holding it together. The miasma is still draining you, even in this clearing. The temporary potions I gave earlier helped, but they're not enough. If we keep going without a proper solution, you'll all drop before we even reach the Core."
Dabria tilted her head, her crimson eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, Wifey, you're feeling generous today. Offering to save them again, are you?"
Visha shot her a pointed look. "If they die, we're short on bodies to throw at whatever comes next."
Ryker's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. He knew she was right. As much as her bluntness grated on him, her potions had kept them alive so far. "What do you need to make something better?" he asked.
Visha turned her focus to her spatial ring, pulling out her black notebook and flipping through its pages. Her fingers skimmed over detailed diagrams and notes, some written in an elegant hand, others scrawled hastily. "I'll need stronger ingredients," she said after a moment. "The standard herbs and venoms I've been using won't cut it anymore. I need something that can sustain resistance against prolonged exposure to the miasma."
"Like what?" Kalum asked hesitantly, still wary after witnessing her Venomweaver spiders earlier.
Visha closed her notebook and slipped it back into her ring. "The flora in this labyrinth is steeped in poison and magic. I've already cataloged several potential candidates—Achlys' Vines, Miasmic Lilies, and that black-spotted flower I noted earlier. Combined, they should give me what I need to create a more potent elixir."
Talia raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly are we supposed to find those without getting ourselves killed?"
"You don't," Visha replied flatly, already pulling out a small, portable alchemy kit from her spatial ring. "I already know where they are. The Venomweavers scouted ahead while I was unconscious."
Dabria clapped her hands together, a delighted grin spreading across her face. "Oh, you planned this all along, didn't you, Wifey? Letting your creepy-cute spiders do all the dirty work while you rested."
Visha ignored her, crouching by the bubbling spring and pulling out several vials and tools. "I'll extract the base components here and enhance them with my own venom. But I'll need someone to fetch the black-spotted flower and the Achlys' Vines."
Ryker folded his arms, his expression grim. "We're not splitting up."
"You don't need to," Visha replied, her tone clipped. "The Venomweavers will guide whoever goes. The flowers are close. The vines… slightly farther. You'll need to move quickly, though. The longer we stay here, the more likely we'll attract another predator."
Kalum groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Great. I get to be spider bait."
Ryker ignored him, turning to Ox and Talia. "Ox, you and Kalum will go for the vines. Talia, you'll grab the flower."
"And what are you going to do?" Talia asked pointedly.
Ryker glanced at Visha, then back at the group. "I'll stay here and make sure nothing sneaks up on them while they work."
Dabria laughed softly, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "How noble of you, Guild Master. Don't worry, I'll keep your Lions from falling apart."
Visha was already measuring out components into a shallow stone dish, her movements precise and efficient. "Hurry," she said without looking up. "I can't stabilize the elixir without all the components, and your resistance won't hold much longer."
Ox grunted in acknowledgment, hefting his ax as he followed one of the Venomweavers into the labyrinth. Talia and Kalum exchanged uneasy glances before splitting off to follow their own guides, the oppressive miasma quickly swallowing their forms as they disappeared into the winding paths.
Dabria leaned lazily against the glowing tree, watching Visha's meticulous movements, her crimson eyes narrowed slightly in thought. There was something she hadn't voiced earlier, something she'd noticed while stabilizing Visha's wound. A faint unease stirred in her, though it didn't show in her playful expression. After a long moment of silence, she tilted her head and broke the stillness with a question.
"Darling," Dabria said softly, her tone unusually serious, "when did it happen?"
Visha didn't pause her work, her pale-green eyes focused intently on the glowing mixture she was stirring in the shallow stone dish. "When did what happen?" she asked evenly, though there was a slight edge to her voice, as if she already knew the answer.
Dabria took a step closer, her crimson eyes fixed on Visha's face. "Your death," she said plainly. "Your life energy—it isn't human. Not really. It's… something else."
Visha stilled for a fraction of a second before continuing to stir the mixture, her expression unreadable. "You're as perceptive as ever," she said quietly, her tone devoid of emotion.
"Well, you know me," Dabria replied, her voice light but tinged with an undercurrent of curiosity. "I can't help but notice when someone's existence brushes too close to death. And yours, my love, isn't just close—it's steeped in it."
Visha's pale-green eyes flickered with a faint shadow of memory, her hands stilling over her work as she spoke, her voice low and detached, yet tinged with a weight she rarely let show.
"It happened the day of the storms," she began, her tone as even as if she were recounting a story about someone else entirely. "I had already accepted that my body was failing. The experiments… the tortures I endured as a child… they left me with a body that could barely sustain itself. My blood was poison, my touch was death, and every breath felt like a battle I was destined to lose. The doctors told me I had weeks—days, maybe—before my organs gave out entirely. And I felt… nothing."
Dabria stayed silent, her crimson eyes locked on Visha, hanging on every word. She took another small step closer, but she didn't interrupt.
"I didn't want to die in my home," Visha continued, her eyes distant. "I didn't want to die surrounded by the weight of those four walls. So I got into my car, drove aimlessly, and found myself at a church. It was one of those grand, castle-like places, as if the architecture itself was trying to touch heaven. The sky was dark—angry, stormy clouds rolling over one another, and the air was thick with rain waiting to fall. It matched how I felt. Hollow. Heavy."
She paused, her lips twitching faintly in what could have been a smirk, but it was fleeting. "I walked inside. There was no one there, just the echo of my boots against the stone floor. I didn't know why I was there—what I was looking for. But I ended up kneeling in front of the confession booth."
Visha's hand hovered over the potion she'd been working on, her gaze now far away. "I said the words because they felt right. 'Excuse me, Father, for I have sinned.' I confessed everything—what I'd done, who I was. I told the old man on the other side of that screen that I was a killer. That my grandfather sold me to monsters who made me one. That I had taken their lives, taken my family's lives, taken the lives of children I grew up with because I couldn't let anyone else suffer like I did. And through it all, I told him I felt… nothing. No guilt, no sadness, no regret. Just emptiness."
Dabria's voice was soft when she finally spoke. "What did he say?"
Visha's smirk returned, colder this time. "I didn't give him the chance to say much. He started to tell me something about redemption, about forgiveness. But I didn't want to hear it. I didn't believe it. So I stood, walked out of the booth, and left. I didn't go back to my car. The rain had started falling by then—pouring, actually. I should have left, but instead, I walked into the woods near the church."
Her gaze sharpened slightly, though her voice remained calm. "I remember thinking, if I was going to die, it would be on my terms. Not in a bed, not surrounded by walls. I wanted the storm. The chaos. Something beautiful to end something broken."
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she continued. "The lightning struck before I even knew it was coming. It was… indescribable. A force so raw and powerful that it felt like it tore me apart from the inside. For the first time in years, I felt everything. Pain. Clarity. Life and death, colliding in a single moment."
Her voice grew softer, almost reverent. "When my heart finally stopped, I started to fall. I felt the cold mud beneath me as I hit the ground, the rain washing over me. And I looked up at the sky, at the way the lightning illuminated the storm clouds, the way the rain sparkled in the flashes of light. It was beautiful. I thought… if this is how it ends, I'm okay with it."
Visha fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air. Her pale-green eyes seemed to darken slightly as if the memories themselves had a gravity that pulled at her. She took a deep breath, then shook her head as if to dispel the lingering shadows of the past, before meeting Dabria's gaze once more.
"But it didn't end," she continued, her voice steady but distant, as though she were describing someone else's life. "The mana storms did something to me. My heart stopped, but I didn't die. Not really. My soul… clung to my corpse. I don't know if it was willpower, the poison in my blood, or sheer spite, but my soul didn't let go. And because it didn't, my body… changed."
Dabria's crimson eyes narrowed slightly, her sharp instincts picking up on the weight of Visha's words. "Changed how?"
Visha's fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the stone dish in front of her, her tone clinical as she explained. "The poison in my blood, the death in my touch—it transformed. It became something more than just a curse. It turned into power. The mana coursing through the storm… it didn't just strike me. It fused with me, bound itself to me in ways I can't even fully understand."
She gestured faintly at herself, as though indicating her very existence. "When I woke up, the System greeted me. It told me what I had become. A Wraithborne hybrid. I wasn't human anymore—not entirely. My blood was still poison, but now it was alive with spectral energy. My touch, it was decay, pestilence, a force that could erode flesh and bone alike. And my body, my soul… they weren't separate anymore. They were fused, tied together by something far stronger than life."
Dabria tilted her head, her fascination evident. "A Wraithborne hybrid," she murmured, her voice almost reverent. "You're not tethered to the living, nor bound to the dead. You exist between the two—a creature of poison and shadow."
Visha's lips quirked into a faint smirk, though it lacked warmth. "You sound impressed."
Dabria grinned, her sharp teeth glinting faintly in the light. "Oh, darling, I am. Do you have any idea how rare it is to hear about someone being reforged by the storms into something so… perfect? Most people barely survived the mana storms. You didn't just survive—you ascended."
Visha's smirk faded, replaced by a calm, unreadable expression. "If you can call it that. I became something that shouldn't exist. A creature that feeds on death, thrives on poison, and walks between worlds. But I also became free."
Dabria's expression softened slightly, her voice lowering. "Free from what?"
"From pain," Visha replied quietly. "From the constant agony that the experiments left me in. From the slow decay of my own body. For the first time, I wasn't dying anymore. I was alive. Fully, completely alive… even if it meant I wasn't human anymore."
Dabria stepped closer, her voice softer now. "And do you regret it?"
Visha didn't answer immediately. Her gaze dropped to the potion in front of her, the faint green glow of the mixture reflecting in her eyes. After a long moment, she said simply, "No. I've never regretted surviving. Not once."