Tanya had experienced her fair share of weird.

She’d come far from that scared little girl trembling in her bed, listening to an alien force of nature as it told her how she was a monster. She had grown older, stronger, and far more in control of herself and the Frost since then.

Apparently, it meant nothing where it really counted.

She had lingering memories of the fight against the strange spiritual creatures. Maude completely under their possession, her tremendous reserves of lifeforce that she used for healing others now desecrated and used to create massively overpowered explosions to kill everything around her. She remembered lacerating the wild boar into half a dozen pieces, only for it to possess Olfric and then Elena released that THING and—

She let out a hiss. Even trying to remember what happened after that was painful. There was this muddled image of fighting a watery—watery creature—Olfric’s kami, she realized—and then—

She had given in to the Frost.

Against this man, who claimed to have suddenly woken up in the middle of the anomaly because of a spell mishap.

“Do you think I’m an idiot or something?”

“…I’m not sure if you want me to answer that,” he replied cheekily.

It made her bristle. His mannerisms reminded her of Banksi during one of their discussions. The terramancer had the nasty habit of leading others on by their own words.

“Prove you’re what you say you are!” she yelled.

“You’re a deeply distrusting person, aren’t you?”

Tanya hissed.

“Which I can understand,” he backpedaled, much to her surprise. “But I don’t believe I warrant this much suspicion. Despite your attempts to kill me, I laid you down and covered you with your cloak.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean by covered me—”

It took her an entire second to realize her current state, another to process it, and yet another to actually react. Flushing a vivid red, she acted out of instinct and threw her hands up at Lukas, erecting a wall of—

“…Frost?”

Tanya looked at her own hand, as if seeing it for the first time. “This is—I can—”

Narrowing her eyes, she flicked her right hand again and raised a wall of ice, this one perpendicular to the first one. It wasn’t that using Frost was a difficult thing for her. Rather, it was the easiest thing for her to summon. It didn’t deplete her lifeforce, or her mana pool. It was always there, manifesting upon this world from an ever-abundant source.

All she needed to do was give in to the hunger. Lose herself and become a predator.

But now? There was nothing. No feeling of coldness arose within her. No spike in her emotions either.

There was simply…nothing.

And somehow, Frost still answered her.

What was going on?

Lukas cleared his throat, a frown marring his face. “Well, I’m not sure what that was for, but I hope you’re satisfied now.”

Tanya looked up, tongue-tied, suddenly realizing she had unwittingly attacked the man. Murmuring a soft apology, she looked for her bag and grabbed it. Luckily, there was another set of clothes in it, which she quickly changed into after raising two more walls of ice to create a private space. Given the kind of thoughts her blurry memories had generated, added with the burning arousal below her navel, finding herself dressed so skimpily in front of him felt absolutely mortifying. Her face burned so deeply that she wondered if she might have gotten a fever. Much to her relief—and simultaneous disappointment—the frozen walls kept him from watching her.

She tried to beat the feeling down, but she was having a harder time than usual. The idea of her writhing in ecstasy under him was now burned into her mind.

Just what did this stranger do to her?

Breathing normally was getting harder by the minute, and Tanya grabbed the frozen walls for support. The sudden feeling of arctic cold on her bare palms served as a good distraction.

“Are you fine?” asked the stranger.

“I—” She fumbled over what to say. “I’ll be done in a moment.”

“Good. Then we can sit down and speak like civilized people.”

Silently, she finished putting on her new clothes before shattering the walls to smithereens with a simple touch. The self-proclaimed Maluscian pyromancer was stripped down to his waist and seated on the ground. Tanya was intrigued by the scars on his chest. They made intriguing patterns where they crisscrossed.

“You don’t run from much, do you?” she asked out of nowhere, noticing the lack of scarring on his back as she walked over to him.

“I try not to. Not unless it’s absolutely necessary. If you let yourself get attacked from behind, you don’t get scars. You get a hole in the ground.”

Considering he’d fought against her and survived, Tanya couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of situation could force this man to desert a fight. He was a pyromancer, and a strong one at that. Adventurers of such skill didn’t just appear out of thin air. It was more likely that he was hired as part of the militant force they’d encountered outside the cave. His Cyffnarian clothes only helped support that narrative.

But at the same time, this Lukas wasn’t treating her like a threat. It wasn’t that he was looking down on her, but instead, it felt like he was detached from the situation, as if the chance of another skirmish had nothing to do with him. He didn’t think she could kill him. Hurt him, maybe, but not kill. It made sense he wasn’t afraid of her. If he was to be believed, he had faced her with her Frost and came out unscathed.

“You…really believe you’re in no danger, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,,” he replied with what sounded like complete honesty. “If you want to walk away, feel free. But”—his voice lowered to a cold, hard whisper—“remember the state of my back before you think about driving one of your wind blades through it. I’ll fucking bury you.”

That tone…Tanya had heard it before.

She had been that tone before.

She recalled the many assassins she’d buried to their necks in the earth, and the savage satisfaction that filled her when it was over. They had come for her, wronged her, and paid the price. There was something bright about that pure, righteous anger.

By Wind, she knew how he felt. She knew how that fire in his chest burned. Dare she say, she even respected him for it.

“Why does a Maluscian adventurer wear Cyffnarian battle attire?” Tanya asked, changing the subject.

His expression did not falter in the least. Interesting. Was he truly not an enemy?

“This little thing?” he asked, looking down. “I encountered some kind of foot soldier wandering around. We had a little disagreement. He left his armor behind as an apology.”

Tanya was smart enough not to ask what that meant. “And those blades?”

“Custom made from a greedy bastard in Galvore.”

“Where were you employed last?”

“Why is that important?”

“Because it is.”

“Is that so?” he grunted, arms crossed against his chest. “Well then, my secrets are mine to keep, just like yours.”

Tanya furrowed her brows. His story was perfect, and he knew enough to pass for a Maluscian adventurer. Add in his confidence and his skill level, and it made for a striking picture. And she had no conclusive evidence to prove he was part of the Cyffnarian camp, seeing as how he didn’t seem to want to fight her.

Her eyes flickered white for an instant.

Mana

3000

Lifeforce

3500

…Three thousand?

That’s impossible.

She tried again.

Mana

3000

Lifeforce

3500

For once, she was genuinely short on words. The upper three thousands was a respectable place to be—not overwhelming, but nothing to scoff at either. Lukas was stronger than both Zuken and Olfric in lifeforce and manacrafting, but her allies had the elemental advantage. As did she.

Even so, he somehow kicked her ass.

Mana

3000

Lifeforce

3500

This couldn’t be the entire picture. There had to be something else. Something that had allowed him to triumph over her own skills amplified by Ezzeron and the Frost.

Unless he’s like me? Having something that could get him killed if others knew about it?

A part of her wanted to give up on this man and run away. Between her own dexterity and Ezzeron’s powers, she could vanish faster than he could blink. But every time she considered doing just that, an overwhelming sense of wrongness pervaded her. She considered killing him, but then shot down each of those ideas with extreme prejudice. Instead, she was stuck here with an irresistible need to speak to him.

Tanya supposed it wasn’t all that bad. She was defeated and alone in this anomaly, surrounded by monsters baying for her blood. Staying near a powerful warrior who wasn’t antagonistic toward her and was also easy on the eyes wasn’t a bad trade-off.

The burning feelings of desire wanted him close, preferably using a rather indecent, primitive approach to getting him there. And he wasn’t using any spellcraft upon her. Her mental defenses would’ve warned her of the slightest attempts at Psychomancy.

It had to be from using so much Frost all at once.

“Well,” Lukas started, pushing himself up off the floor, “I’m done resting. It’s time for me to move on.”

“To where?”

He grinned. “To the heart of this anomaly.”

“Are you serious?”

“Perfectly,” he replied as he started walking. Tanya quickly followed.

“But why?”

“Because I want to.”

“That’s not an answer!”

“Yes. It is.”

She didn’t miss the undercurrent of sternness in his tone, all but demanding she let the matter drop.

“I’m an adventurer just like you. It’s safe to assume our interests either coincide or clash, and I won’t reveal anything else until I receive confirmation of which it is.”

“Then maybe you should’ve thought of that before being so nice to me,” she replied.

A slow smile spread across his lips. “All I’ve told you is where I’m going. What you do with the information will decide the rest.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re wound up tighter than a coiled spring. You’re nervous and scared and angry, and you’d kill for a little breathing space. You came in demanding the water kami earlier, and you have a wind-type kami. That means it belongs to someone else. Someone you know. Meaning, you have friends. Coworkers. Associates. And yet, despite that, you’re walking with me instead of trying to go find them.”

“You don’t know that!” she snapped. “It’s all just conjecture!”

“Maybe, but not without its merits,” he easily replied. “It makes me wonder why an aeromancer as skilled as yourself doesn’t want to find her associates. I’m pretty sure you have ways to find them, yet you haven’t. The other possibility? They’re all dead.”

Her insides clenched. She didn’t let it show. There was no doubt that an extremely sharp mind lurked behind his flippant attitude. Just like a certain Banksi she knew. Adventurers were supposed to be the cold, uncaring, and ruthless types. Doubly so during missions. Instead, Lukas was being…nice. Creepily so.

Why does he keep doing that? What is he… Why is he smiling? she thought with growing desperation. Her strangely active libido didn’t help matters either.

As if sensing her discomfort, she felt Ezzeron’s questioning in her mind. Not a thought, as he wasn’t really able to do that. What came through their connection was more like an impulse, one that could easily be put into words.

Kill?

Never let it be said that Ezzeron needed speech to get his point across. Although she hadn’t released her kami, she could picture him just fine. An elephantine avian, with wings as black as the nights in the desert. With just one word from her, Ezzeron could materialize in the physical world and slaughter anyone, destroying anything she commanded him to do. It was all he could do, and he did it well.

No, she responded. Not yet.

The kami within her tensed, like a taut bow, ready to pounce upon the young man. That in itself was all kinds of bad. Ezzeron, by his very nature, had the tendency to ignore nearly everything around him, classifying them as weak.

But not Lukas.

“You’re right. I have associates,” Tanya confirmed. “But we got attacked by monsters and separated.”

And then she turned into a far more vicious monster and tore everything apart, until she ran into him.

“Oh? There’s more of you?” His eyes brightened. “Where are they? Speaking of which, where are you from?”

“The Llaisy Kingdom.”

She noted the spark of recognition in his eyes.

“That means you must have come in through, uh, Haviskali, right?”

And there it was again. His casual familiarity with the place. For someone who claimed to have been spatially displaced by several thousand miles, he was awfully knowledgeable about the desert and its surrounding regions. Someone like that, randomly walking through the tunnels, searching for something…

He couldn’t have been looking for Experience. Or treasure. That left—

Tanya froze. Lukas was going deeper into the anomaly. Deeper. Toward the core. Her hands tightened to the point that she almost drew blood, before forcing herself to relax again. “So that’s how it is.”

“Hm?”

“…Nothing. I’m just thinking out loud.”

Tanya had underestimated the situation. Underestimated him. The clues had always been there. He had never quite been shy about it. The casual demeanor. The cocky attitude. The unwavering confidence that he would prevail should a fight happen. The strange impulses she got about him. The Frost’s anomalous behavior. Him defeating her. Ezzeron’s wariness. Him walking to the center of the anomaly.

“That look there on your face tells me you’ve come to some kind of conclusion,” Lukas said, matching her stare with his own. To her shame, she was the first to look away. “For your sake, I hope you don’t do anything foolish about it.”

She bit her lip. If she played her cards right, this could turn into a favorable situation for her.

“I believe you,” she finally said, leaning back against the wall, crossing her legs and pushing her chest subtly forward. Distracted people gave away more than they intended, and she was rather good at distracting. “You’re not Cyffnarian. And you’re right. Neither of us are obligated to answer the other’s questions. Nonetheless, I think…I think I understand what you’re after.”

His smile turned predatory. “Do you now?”

“I think you want to destroy the anomaly core.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his face. “And what makes you think that?”

“Beside the point, since there’s no evidence of the fact,” she quickly replied. “But let’s say, hypothetically, that you were aware of someone in this very anomaly capable of…destroying the core. Hypothetically, if someone wanted to acquire this person’s services, how would they go about doing it?”

The amusement slid off his face like butter, replaced by surprise. “You want to destroy the anomaly’s core?”

“Well, uh, hypothetically—”

“And you’d pay for this service?”

“I mean—”

“How much?”

“Fine! Yes!” Tanya threw her hands up in the air and gave up all pretenses of the act. “For reasons I can’t reveal, I have to destroy the core of this anomaly.” She saw him open his mouth and barreled on. “Yes, I know. It’s a Sin, and I have no option to commit it. It won’t be a problem for me, or so I’m told.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “Is that why you don’t want to find your associates? Because they’re forcing you to do this?”

She shook her head. “I’m doing it of my own accord. It’s… Let’s just say it’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

Lukas’s expression had lost all traces of humor. It was replaced by something…else. His eyes bore into hers for several long seconds, as if searching for any lies in her statements. Finally, he nodded tersely. “I’ll deal with it.”

Tanya shrugged off the inexplicable fear that had risen in her at his sudden shift. “You didn’t answer my question. What would you want in return?”

“As I said, I’ll take care of it.”

“And what do you want in return?” she repeated.

Lukas sighed. “There’s…a chance that things might not work out the way I want them to. Should that happen, I may need a place to stay for the considerable future.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why not go back to Maluscion? I’m certain travel arrangements can be made if you need—”

“I want a fresh start. New identity. New documents. A place to live.”

“Are you running from the Cobalt Army?” she asked quietly, after a long pause.

“Not…exactly,” Lukas said. “Circumstances prohibit me from using my current identity. You asked me what I wanted? I need a new one. Can you and your associates provide it?”

It was an easy question.

“Yes. I can promise to talk to my associates about this deal. But I can’t promise they’d agree to it.”

“And why’s that?”

“The Sin.”

“Oh, that.” The look of puzzlement on his face dissipated. “That won’t be a problem.”

“Excuse me?” she exclaimed.

“I’m able to destroy the core without Sinning,” he said, as if he hadn’t just uttered the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard in her life.

“That makes no sense!”

“I’m devastated by that.”

“Stop fucking around!” Tanya replied hotly, the words coming out with more hostility than she intended. “I’ve Sinned before. I know how it works. You do know what an anomaly core is, don’t you?”

The pyromancer rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say I’m capable of doing it without amassing any Sin, and leave it at that. The ‘how’ doesn’t matter.”

“The ‘how’ always matters.”

Lukas eyed her strangely, before a slow smile laden with secrets made itself known. It was like a joke only he was privy to, no one else. The kind that he laughed at alone, while everyone looked on with bemusement.

Not that he would tell her if she asked. They were strangers, after all.

“Sure,” she sighed. “Fine, I guess it doesn’t matter. Just know that while my Frost is useful against an anomaly core, your Pyromancy really isn’t. You’ll have trouble if you use it.”

“Well then”—he grinned—“I suppose it’s a good thing I won’t be using fire.”

…

Tanya was this close to losing her sanity completely and utterly.

“Can you at least tell me why you want to destroy it in the first place?” she asked, making certain her tone carried urgency without sounding like a demand. “We have our reasons. What about you?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“It’s common sense, isn’t it? If you’re going to be my ally, then I need to know more so I can trust you.”

“Ally, huh?” He chuckled. “Don’t worry. You can trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“Then what are you after, at least?”

“Power.”

Tanya was taken aback by how matter-of-factly he said it.

“The spell mishap that brought me here. I want to perform it,” he said. “Successfully, this time. And to do that, I’ll need lots of power.”

“You want to take it from the core,” Tanya said.

It wasn’t a question or suggestion—it was a fact. An omphalos was a thing of pure power. Power beyond the use of any bremetan. However, the energy from an omphalos was incredibly lethal to a bremetan upon direct exposure. It was why she had to use her powers of Frost to leech it away. The Frost would feast upon it and freeze the entire place by the time it was over.

“How would you do it? Anomalous energy is harmful to bremetans.”

“I have my ways.”

“And you’re certain your ways would work?”

She could see the frustration rising within him. Just a little more and he’d crack like an egg. That or he’d attack her and they’d fight. Again. Either way, it would lead to something. Standing here at such close proximity was doing odd things to her. She wasn’t sure how long she could take the tension.

Seduction by talking someone to death. That had to be a first.

“I’m reliably certain I can use it. Again, why does any of this matter? I take care of the anomaly core without amassing Sin, and you and your folks get me a fresh identity. It’s that simple, isn’t it?”

“…I suppose.”

“Well then.” He grinned brightly, and she couldn’t help but match it. “We have an accord!” Then, all of a sudden, his hand shot out toward her navel. Tanya stepped back instantly, a wind blade in her palm.

“What was that?!”

Lukas staggered back, not out of fear, but surprise. “I, uh, I was just about to shake hands with you.”

“Shake…hands?”

She watched worriedly as something akin to distress flickered across his face, before disappearing, as if it were never there at all. “Forgive me. It is a gesture among my people. Shaking hands.”

He thrust his arm out again, slower this time. It stayed at the navel level, but didn’t move any farther down. What was she supposed to do? Hold it? Was that what this was about? Holding hands? Not that she’d complain.

Hesitantly, she grabbed it with her own.

“Is this right?”

“Sort of.”

So he did want to hold her hand. And then shake it up and down for some reason.

That was fine. It felt nice.