Shining Shadow

The fire crackled, spitting embers into the night sky, casting flickering shadows across our little camp in the Verdant Abyss. The air was heavy, not just with the damp of the rain-soaked valley, but with the weight of what we'd just been through. That damn Bloodsucking Willow had peeled back layers we weren't ready to show, and now we sat in silence, each lost in our own heads. My split-leaf amulet gave a faint pulse against my chest, like it was trying to nudge me toward something I wasn't ready to face. I ignored it, as usual, focusing instead on the way the firelight danced across Tira's face, her phoenix tattoo glowing faintly under her collarbone. Damn, that woman was a walking blaze, and I didn't just mean her Fire Qi.

Bera sat cross-legged, her tight skirt riding up just enough to make my curse-heavy limbs itch to move closer. Lila, beside her, was hunched over, her form-fitting tunic clinging to her curves in a way that made my mouth dry. Varkoth, my brooding Basilisk Emperor, coiled nearby, his scales glinting like polished obsidian. Stinky, my ever-loyal Earth beetle, and Bertil, the Crystal Silver Queen Mantis, were tucked away in my spatial ring, safe from whatever mess we'd stumble into next.

The silence was suffocating, like the calm before a storm—or one of my legendary pranks.

Tira broke it first, her voice sharp enough to cut through the tension. "Horan's the third prince of Adena," she said, staring into the flames. "My half-brother."

I blinked, my lustful daydreams about her curves screeching to a halt. Bera and Lila froze, their eyes snapping to Tira. Even Varkoth's tail twitched, his slitted eyes narrowing. Tira didn't look at us, just kept her gaze on the fire, her jaw tight.

"I'm the daughter of King Gorath Steelheart and a court maid," she continued, her voice steady but laced with something raw. "The queen was a jealous bitch—sorry, royal jealous bitch. She'd have had me killed before I could walk. My mother smuggled me out to Solaria to save my skin. I grew up in Solspire, trained at the Blazing Star Sect, learned Fire Qi, and clawed my way to Beginner Master before I got the guts to head back to Adena. Horan… he's the only one of my siblings who ever gave a damn. Protected me from the other princes and princesses who saw me as a stain on the royal name."

Her words hung in the air, heavy as my curse's 30 kg pressure. I leaned back, the Starforged Tunic shifting against my skin, easing the weight just enough to keep me from collapsing under it. Tira, a princess? I'd called her Fiery Queen as a tease, but damn, I was closer than I thought.

She stood, brushing dirt off her pants, her eyes blazing brighter than the campfire. "I didn't tell you because I wanted to keep my identity buried. But now you know, and I can't sit here while Horan's out there fighting in that valley. I'm going to help him. You don't have to come—follow your own path if you want. But I know where I need to be."

Bera and Lila stared at her, wide-eyed, like she'd just sprouted wings. My mind raced, not just with the image of Tira's fiery resolve but with the chaos of that battle we'd seen in the valley—cultivators clashing, Qi flaring, blood soaking the earth. I stood, shaking dust off my Cryonsteel-lined trousers, and locked eyes with her. For once, I dropped the smirk, my voice dead serious.

"You know, Tira, I wasn't far off calling you Fiery Queen," I said, brushing my gold-tipped braid back. "Just missed the mark a bit. From now on, you're my Fiery Princess, and I'll be damned if I let you charge into that war alone. We don't know what that fight's about, but if any of us were in your shoes, we'd do the same. I'm with you."

Tira's eyes widened, and before I could brace myself, she launched into my arms, her warmth hitting me harder than a Zenoite Krovar's swipe. Her scent—smoke and spice—filled my head, and I couldn't help but grin, my hands itching to wander. Bera and Lila coughed loudly, snapping me back.

"He's just in it for the loot," Bera muttered, crossing her arms, her Fire Qi flickering in her eyes.

"Yeah, and the glory," Lila added, her Earth Qi practically rumbling under her words. "Don't let him fool you, Tira."

I flashed my best shit-eating grin. "Guilty as charged, ladies. Loot, glory, and maybe a few stolen glances at my Fiery Princess's assets. Can't blame a Supreme Elf for dreaming big."

Tira's cheeks flushed, but she laughed, shoving me back with a playful kick. "You'll never change, Supreme Perv," she said, wiping a stray tear from her eye, her smile soft but fierce. "Thank you."

Bera and Lila stood, their rivalry forgotten for a moment as they each extended a hand to Tira. "We're with you too, sister," Bera said, her voice firm despite the blush creeping up her neck.

Lila nodded, her usual scowl softening. "You're not doing this alone."

I couldn't resist. "Of course you're with her," I said, leaning back with a mock sigh. "You two have been chasing me since Opeka like a pair of nymphos. No way you'd let me storm into a war without you—might miss out on me losing my head and you'd never forgive yourselves."

The three of them turned to me, their eyes narrowing in unison. Bera's cheeks went crimson, Lila's hands clenched into fists, and Tira's Fire Qi flared like a warning shot. Oh, I'd poked the hornet's nest now. Before I could dodge, a barrage of Fire Qi blasts, Earth spikes, and a particularly nasty flame whip from Tira came flying my way. I danced around the campsite, my curse slowing my steps but my adrenaline pumping.

"You can rage all you want!" I shouted, ducking a fireball that singed my braid. "The Supreme Elf is right, and you're wasting Qi you'll need for the fight we're heading into!"

They didn't stop. Fireballs scorched the ground, Earth spikes grazed my legs, and Tira's whip nearly caught my ankle. I laughed like a kid, spinning and dodging, the 30 kg pressure making every move a workout. Finally, I let them catch me—mostly because my stamina was draining fast, curse be damned. They tackled me to the ground, Bera's fists pummeling my chest, Lila's Earth Qi pinning my arms, and Tira's glare hot enough to melt Cryonsteel.

"Supreme Perv, huh?" Tira growled, flicking my forehead. "Maybe we should leave you for the orcs."

I grinned, panting. "Worth it."

They let me up, their anger fizzling into exasperated laughs. We dusted ourselves off, packed the camp, and started moving. No swamp this time—Varkoth scouted a drier path through the valley's edge, avoiding the muck and those damn Swamp Lotuses. The air grew tense as we neared the Verdant Abyss, the distant sounds of clashing steel and Qi bursts echoing through the trees. My amulet pulsed faintly, but I shoved the thought aside. No time for destiny nonsense when there's a war to crash.

The valley was a slaughterhouse. Cultivators from Adena's forces, led by a guy I assumed was Horan, clashed with a horde of Blueskin Orcs, their Ice Qi frosting the ground. The orcs were relentless, their massive frames wielding frost-covered axes and spears. Adena's soldiers, decked in Geodrite armor, countered with Fire and Earth techniques, but they were outnumbered. I glanced at Tira, her face pale but her eyes burning with determination.

"Time to make an entrance," I said, pulling my Pyroclast Dual Swords—Ember's Fang and Blaze's Claw—from my spatial ring. Their weight felt good in my hands, the Fire Qi humming despite my inability to sense it. I tucked Stinky and Bertil deeper into the ring for safety. "Varkoth, you ready to tear shit up?"

My Basilisk Emperor hissed, his Darkness Qi coiling around him like a living shadow. "This is my stage, Killyaen," he rumbled, his voice low and deadly.

I grinned. "That's the spirit. Let's give 'em a show."

I sprinted toward the battlefield, my curse's 30 kg pressure slowing my steps but fueling my resolve. The orcs didn't see me coming—not yet. I grabbed my Razorvine Wire, a nasty little invention I'd cooked up in Crestmoore, and clamped it between my teeth. With a Pyroclast sword in each hand, I leaped into the fray, right in front of Horan's line, and unleashed my Vortex Strike.

The move was pure chaos, born from my time dodging thugs in Crestmoore's quarry. I spun like a top, the curse's weight amplifying my momentum, my swords slashing in a deadly arc. The Razorvine Wire whipped around me, its barbed edges glinting as it caught the orcs' limbs, dragging them toward the center of my vortex. The air itself seemed to bend, a vacuum forming from my speed, pulling enemies closer. Those too far got snagged by the wire, yanked into range where Ember's Fang and Blaze's Claw carved through flesh and bone like butter.

Thirty orcs—Master and Grand Master level, judging by their size and the way they moved—fell in a bloody heap. I stood in the center, drenched in crimson, my chest heaving as the curse drained my stamina. The ground was a mess of severed limbs and frost-covered corpses. I raised my swords, grinning like a madman.

"Supreme Bloody Elf!" I roared, my voice echoing over the battlefield.

Then my legs gave out, the curse's weight slamming me to my knees. Tira, Bera, Lila, and Varkoth were at my side in a flash, forming a protective ring. Tira's Fire Qi flared, incinerating an orc who got too close. Bera's flames scorched another, while Lila's Earth spikes impaled a third. Varkoth's Darkness Qi lashed out, shredding enemies like paper. Horan and his guard seized the moment, charging through the gap I'd carved, their Geodrite blades flashing.

"Show-off," Tira muttered, helping me up as I chugged a strength elixir, the curse's passive healing kicking in to ease my aching muscles.

"Just doing my part, Fiery Princess," I said, winking despite the pain.

The elixir and the curse's recovery effect had me back on my feet faster than I expected. I dove back into the fray, this time wielding Heaven Splitter. Each swing was a gamble, the 30 kg pressure slowing my strikes but amplifying their force. My Pyroclast swords carved fissures in the earth—ten meters long, a meter wide—splitting the ground and sending orcs tumbling. I screamed like a lunatic, hacking through their ranks, my curse-enhanced strength turning me into a one-man wrecking crew.

The orcs started whispering, their eyes wide with fear. "Qi-Less Demon," they called me, backing away as I cleaved through another wave. I laughed, my braid swinging, blood dripping from my blades. Damn right, I was their demon.

Varkoth was a force of nature, his Darkness Qi tearing through Master and Grand Master orcs like they were nothing. His scales shimmered as he coiled around enemies, crushing them or slicing them with his tail. Tira's Fire Qi blazed, her phoenix tattoo glowing as she hurled fireballs. Bera and Lila fought back-to-back, their Fire and Earth Qi weaving a deadly dance. Horan's guard pushed forward, their discipline turning the tide.

By the time the last orc fell or fled, the valley was quiet, save for the groans of the wounded and the crackle of dying flames. We'd won, but at a cost. Tira's face was streaked with soot, her eyes locked on Horan as he approached, his Geodrite armor dented but intact.

"Sister," he said, his voice rough but warm. He pulled her into a hug, and she buried her face in his shoulder, her Fire Qi dimming for a moment.

I leaned on my swords, panting, the curse's weight pressing harder now that the adrenaline was fading. Bera and Lila flanked me, their glares a mix of annoyance and grudging respect. Varkoth coiled nearby, his eyes scanning for stragglers.

"Nice work, Qi-Less Demon," Bera said, smirking. "Didn't know you had it in you."

I grinned, wiping blood from my cheek. "Stick with me, Firecracker, and you'll see plenty more."

That night, we camped on the valley's edge, the stars bright above us. Horan's soldiers set up a perimeter, their Geodrite armor clanking as they moved. Tira sat close to her brother, their heads bent together, whispering about Adena and their family. I caught snippets—something about the queen's schemes and a looming threat to Forgehold—but my mind was elsewhere.

I'd been planning this for days, ever since the Willow's truths shook us. My path was pulling me away from the group, toward Forgehold and whatever destiny awaited at the First Altar. The amulet pulsed again, stronger this time, like it knew I was close to something big. I ignored it, focusing on the task at hand.

I pulled Tira aside, my face serious for once. "It's time," I said, slipping two spatial rings into her hand. "You'll know when to give these to Bera and Lila."

Her eyes widened, panic flickering across her face. "Killyaen, you're not—"

"I am," I cut her off, my voice firm. "I've got my own road to walk. You know that."

She clutched the rings, her Fire Qi flaring briefly. "You're sure?"

I nodded, handing her a folded note I'd scribbled earlier. Inside each ring, I'd tucked a letter for Bera and Lila, along with 10 Level 7 Spirit Stones, 50 Level 6, 100 Level 5, and—because I'm me—a pair of panties for each, inscribed with "Supreme Elf Was Here." A little parting gift to keep them cursing my name.

Tira's lips twitched, but her eyes were wet. "You're an idiot, Supreme Perv."

"Always," I said, winking.

We rejoined the campfire, the mood lighter now that the battle was behind us. Horan was planning the trek back to Forgehold—ten days' march, give or take. I waited for the perfect moment, my heart pounding with the thrill of what I was about to do.

"Hey, Tira," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I still can't believe I took the virginity of a princess."

The camp went dead silent. Tira's face turned scarlet, her Fire Qi flaring so bright I thought she'd burn the forest down. Bera and Lila's jaws dropped, their cheeks flushing with rage or embarrassment—or both. Every eye was on Tira, and I knew it was now or never.

I bolted.

Varkoth's Darkness Qi cloaked me as I sprinted into the night, my curse slowing my steps but not enough to stop me. Behind me, I heard Tira's outraged yell, followed by Bera and Lila's curses. Fireballs and Earth spikes lit up the dark, but I was already gone, Varkoth's stealth veil hiding us from their wrath.

"Damn, I'll miss those girls," I muttered, my braid bouncing as I ran. "But the Supreme Elf's got a date with destiny."

Varkoth hissed, his tail flicking. "You're a fool, Killyaen. But a bold one."

We moved fast, heading toward the first village on my solo path. The amulet pulsed again, stronger now, like it was guiding me. For once, I didn't scoff. Forgehold was close, and with it, maybe the answers I'd been dodging all along.