Dila's breath was shallow as she continued peeling the strange black herb. The thin layers came apart under her blade, one after another, each slice releasing more of that eerie, bleeding mist. Her fingers trembled ever so slightly now—not from fear, but from the oppressive, unnatural energy that seeped into the room like poison.

Then, without warning, the herb shuddered.

A low hum vibrated through the air—like a whisper on the verge of screaming.

Crack—!!!

The herb burst open in a violent pulse of aura, exploding into a swirl of black mist infused with streaks of dark lightning. The blast of power screamed toward her like a sudden storm.

"—Dila!!" Zeon's voice rang out.

In a flash, he was there. Fast—unnaturally fast.

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her away just as the mist exploded where she had stood. The force slammed into the floor, dark lightning dancing across the ground and roaring upward like a cursed flame. A single bolt of it struck the ceiling with a CRASH, sending a tremor through the lab room.

Zeon shielded Dila's body with his own, holding her tightly as they landed a few feet away, his red eyes calm but sharp with fury. His small fabric flailing behind him has flared behind him, now scorched at the hem.

Fran shrieked, stumbling back as she looked up at the scorched ceiling, her eyes wide and shining with fear.

"W-What was that!? I-It almost hit me…!"

Meanwhile, Zeon didn't look away from the smoldering herb. His voice turned cold—deeper than usual, filled with restrained rage.

"Zib!!" he roared. "What the hell was that!? You brought a cursed herb from the Demonlord's land?! You nearly killed the Princess!"

Zib stood frozen in shock. But as Zeon's voice echoed through the chamber, he dropped to his knees in panic.

"I-I'm sorry!! Please, forgive me!" he stammered, bowing his head low, the sound of his forehead banging the metal floor echoing again and again.

"I didn't know! I didn't know it was that dangerous! I-I just thought it was rare! I'm sorry… I'm sorry…!"

He was sweating heavily, his face pale and frantic, but Zeon's glare didn't soften.

Dila, still in Zeon's arms, didn't respond at first.

She was gripping her knife—her hand trembling violently. Her pale blue eyes were wide, locked on the black smoke curling in the air. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came.

Until finally, in a small, shaken voice, she whispered:

"…What… was that…?"

A faint flicker of dark lightning danced across her fingers.

Zeon felt it.

He quickly looked down... and there it was.

Black static slithered across Dila's palm where she had held the herb. It glowed with faint crimson veins, crackling softly like dying embers before disappearing into her skin.

And then it was gone.

But the mark it left–the chill, the fear with unknown remained.

Dila looked at her hand in disbelief, her voice barely audible.

"…It went inside me…"

She could still feel it… that crawling sensation beneath her skin. A wrongness.

Then...

☆ Warning. Unknown energy has entered your body. Unknown energy has entered your body. Proceed with caution… ☆

The soft, delicate voice of Nari echoed gently in her mind.

Dila's breath hitched.

"Nari…?" she whispered inwardly, blinking the sweat from her lashes.

☆ Nari, what is that? What just entered me? Please, explain… ☆

There was a pause. A flicker of hesitation. Even the system felt uncertain.

☆ I… I'm sorry, Master… I cannot fully grasp the composition of this energy… it's unlike any elemental or corrupted signature in the database. It was released by an unstable herb with no known classification… ☆

Nari's voice, though still sweet and calm, carried a rare undertone of fear.

☆ I highly recommend you refrain from touching it again. Please… don't use it. It's unstable and dangerous. If you absorb more, you may… or may not make it to the duel… ☆

Dila clenched her jaw, her other hand curling over her ribs.

"But… Nari, I have high HP," she reasoned stubbornly. "bu.. but I've got one of the highest health in support class."

Another moment of silence.

Then Nari's voice returned—softer, almost pleading.

☆ Master… please don't be reckless… HP means nothing if you have no armor… no protection… You might possess the passive skill Cascade Shield, yes—but that won't help against pure dark energy. ☆

Her tone shifted—gentle, but firm now.

☆ Remember… the last time, in the Veil of inficted Darkness… you survived only because the ambient energy was diluted enough. This is different. This is not shadow—it's something deeper. It's… as if a piece of dark matter has touched your mana. ☆

Dila's heart sank. That cold feeling in her hand… it hadn't left.

☆ It might not harm you now… not completely… but prolonged exposure… Master, it could twist your magic, eat away at your essence… It's not just physical damage but, it might looks like. It's corrosion. Spiritual decay. ☆

The words settled like a weight in her chest.

Her voice quiet, but firm echoed inside.

"…So if I use it… I might become something else…"

Nari didn't answer that.

She didn't need to.

Then...

Dila's breath was was suddenly shaky as the last traces of dark lightning faded from her palm a seconds ago. The aftershock hadn't left her chest. Her heart thumped like a war drum against her ribs, but she was alive—shaken, but unharmed.

Still nestled securely in Zeon's arms, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and adrenaline.

"P–P–Put me down…" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zeon looked down at her, red eyes scanning her face with subtle concern. His grip didn't ease. His brows furrowed.

"I can't risk that, Princess," he replied with quiet weight. "You might get hurt again. And if anything happened to you now…" he sighed, his tone shifting as he glanced aside, "I might be in real trouble. You're the future Queen. I can't allow a scratch on you now, when you're in this kingdom not on my watch or the king might pummel me to death again."

Dila blinked, startled by the intensity in his voice.

She looked up at him, her silver brows narrowing ever so slightly.

"…Too bad," she muttered, her lips tightening with subtle defiance. "I'm not going to be queen. That's not my style."

And before Zeon could respond, she pushed herself out of his arms in a light hop, landing with a soft thud against the cold floor.

She brushed imaginary dust off her skirt with quick, irritated hands. "No thank you," she added flatly, fixing her posture.

Zeon stood frozen for a second, arms still slightly open from where she had been.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in his thoughts.

(Ugh… this girl…) he groaned internally. (She won't listen unless she's half-dead… absolute pain in the butt.)

Before either of them could speak again, footsteps.... light and frantic—echoed across in a few distance.

"Diiilaaa!" Fran's voice cracked, almost breaking. Her small boots clicked fast against the ground as she ran. "Dila—!"

She threw herself forward, almost stumbling, before crashing gently into Dila's chest with a trembling hug.

"are you okay?!!" she sobbed into Dila's chest, hands clutching the back of her dress tightly. "Y-You scared me! I..I saw the lightning, and then Zeon jumped.. I– i thought you got hit!"

Dila's eyes widened softly, taken aback by the sudden contact.

For a moment, she stood still… then her expression gentled.

Her arms wrapped slowly around Fran's trembling frame, pulling her close with a protective warmth.

"…I'm okay, Fran," she whispered softly, running her fingers through Fran's navy blue hair. "I'm still here. See?"

She smiled faintly, stroking her head.

"No worries… I'm not going anywhere."

Fran only cried harder into her, hiccupping through each sob. Dila simply held her, quietly, the tremble in her own heart finally starting to calm.

Then Zeon stood tall, his shadow cast long across the light of Crystal florescent suddenly flickering. His boots made a sharp metal clink as he took a step forward, his gaze locked on one individual.

"Well now, friend," he said, voice dripping with restrained tension. He smiled—but it wasn't kindness. It was the kind of smile that made air feel heavier.

Zib, the Elf alchemist, was already on his knees, forehead pressed against the cold metal floor. His mechanical goggles had been tossed aside in his panic.

"I-It won't happen again!" Zib stammered, still pushing bowing deeper. "N-Not ever, I swear on our luminous god!"

His voice quivered under the weight of Zeon's fury.

Still hugging Fran protectively in her arms, Dila raised her head and glanced toward them.

"Zeon…" she said softly, but firm, "Don't scold Zib too much."

Zeon didn't look back immediately, his fists still clenched, but she continued to speak anyway.

"He didn't mean any harm," she added, her voice calm but faintly shaken. "It was… my fault. I carelessly peeled that dark herb with my knife dagger including with my bare hand. I should've known it was cursed. Now it almost cost me."

Zeon finally turned to look at her. His red eyes softened. but only just.

He exhaled, long and tired, as if her words defused a part of his boiling frustration.

"Fine," he muttered at last. "Do it your way. But if you get hurt…"

He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Don't come running to me."

Dila looked down at Fran, still snuggled into her arms like a scared kitten. Then back at Zeon.

"I won't," she said quietly.

She hesitated, then added, "I don't like to say this… but—thank you. For saving me."

Zeon looked at her a moment longer, silent.

Then without another word, he turned around and began walking toward the exit. His black boots echoed with each step, until he stopped at the doorway.

The heavy metal doors slid open with a hiss, casting a blue glow against his broad back.

"No problem," he muttered over his shoulder.

He lifted one hand. his right arm waving lazily in the air without turning around.

"…Bye."

Then the doors shut behind him with a heavy clunk, swallowing him from view.

For a moment, the room fell quiet again.

Zib remained bowed for a few seconds longer until he finally dared to lift his head slightly. His eyes were wide, round, and swimming in anxiety.

(…Thank you for saving my ass… I love you, Princess…) Zib thought to himself, a nervous smile twitching at his lips.

But then another terrifying thought slammed into him.

(Oh no… I think Zeon's going to murder me later because of what happened…) His pupils shrank. (If the Princess hadn't stopped him—whew.)

He let out a barely audible sigh of relief.

Then whispered under his breath,

"…I owe her a special potions and three years of free labor…"