The cave was quiet now. Only the low crackle of fire filled the air—that soft, steady hiss as fat met flame.
The smell was thick, heavy, and almost nauseating—burnt fur, blood, and meat—but to the two of them, it smelled like life itself.
The flames swayed lazily, feeding on the oily flesh of the rabbits, their light spilling over the icy walls.
The frost around the fire melted just enough to glisten, catching the faint orange glow and scattering it like broken glass.
Azrael sat cross-legged near the fire, his spear in his hand, the black metal faintly reflecting the light.
His hands were steady now, though his knuckles were still pale from gripping the weapon so tightly before.
He stared at the meat, turning his spear he made the improvised spit, his stomach twisting at the smell.
It wasn't good food, not by any means, but it was warm, and right now, warmth was everything.
Olivia sat across from him, her knees pulled up to her chest, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.
The flicker of firelight painted her face in soft tones, blurring the bruises of battle beneath gold and shadow.
She exhaled slowly, the breath catching in the faint warmth of the air before fading into mist.
"This might be the best smell I've ever known," she said quietly, her voice hoarse but calm.
Azrael let out a short laugh tiredly. "You're just saying that because it isn't the frozen air we've gotten so used to."
He tore a strip of meat from the spear and handed it to her. The surface was crisped black, the inside still faintly pink from uneven heat.
Steam rose from it, carrying that strange mixture of blood and burnt fat.
Olivia bit into it without hesitation.
The taste hit immediately, bitter and sharp at first, the iron tang almost metallic, but beneath that was something heavier. Warmth. Grease. The faint sweetness of cooked flesh.
It was chewy and rough, but it filled her chest with heat that crawled through her veins and pushed back the numbness in her fingers.
Her eyes fluttered closed for a second. "By the Twofolds, she murmured. "It's… warm and delicious."
Azrael grinned faintly. "Could use salt though."
"And some amethyst sea pepper," she countered, a soft smirk pulling at her lips.
For a while, neither said anything. The fire popped as a droplet of fat fell into it.
Outside the cave, the wind howled faintly, brushing snow against the walls like a whisper that never quite went away.
Azrael leaned back against the wall, staring into the flames. The shadows twisted across the ice like things alive long, stretching forms that looked almost like hands reaching up from the ground.
His muscles ached. His chest burned with every breath. But for once, he let his body feel it, the exhaustion, the warmth, the stillness.
Olivia shifted closer to the fire, rubbing her hands together before holding them out toward the heat. "Do you think it's still down there?"
He didn't answer right away. His gaze didn't leave the flames. "Probably," he said finally. "Whatever it was, it's not something that gives up easily but it is possible that it went even farther down though."
"The way it hit the barrier…" she trailed off. "Like it was something massive but it left that small shadow."
Azrael's jaw tightened. He remembered the noise, that BOOM, the shaking of the cave, the surge of cold that had followed it.
"I don't think it was one of them," he said quietly. "It must have been the boss but why was it so close to that floor though."
They both went quiet again. The silence wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't fearful either.
It was the silence of two people who had seen too much and were grateful to be breathing long enough to think about it.
Azrael took another bite of the rabbit, chewing slowly. The firelight reflected in his eyes, flickering gold against the deep shadows beneath them.
The meat was gamey, almost sour, but it was real food. The kind that fought back when you bit into it. The kind that reminded you you're still alive.
And to them. That's what made it so Delicious
The warmth from the fire spread unevenly through the cave, pooling closest to where they sat and fading quickly toward the walls.
The smell of cooked meat mingled with smoke and blood, clinging to their clothes and hair until they could barely tell where the scent of survival ended and they began.
When they finally finished eating, Olivia leaned back, resting her head against the cold wall. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy with exhaustion. "How are you holding up, Feeling any better?" she whispered.
Azrael's eyes drifted toward the cave mouth, where the faint blue glow of the mana layer could still be seen faintly through the snow. "Much better," he said, though he didn't sound certain.
For now, that was enough.
He leaned the cleaned spear beside him, then pulled the rough fur wrap Olivia had made earlier over his shoulders. It smelled of smoke and burnt hair, but it trapped the warmth well enough.
The fire cracked again, louder this time, scattering a shower of orange sparks.
For a moment, Azrael thought they looked like stars.
Then he closed his eyes. While Outside, the snow fell soundlessly…
The fire had burned down until there was nothing left and The air inside the cave was heavy with the scent of smoke and cooked meat.
Olivia stirred first.
Her eyes opened slowly, She turned toward Azrael, who sat slumped beside the dying fire, his arms folded, his head tilted back against the icy wall.
"You know," she said quietly, breaking the silence, "isn't it about time we break through."
Azrael blinked, his tired gaze drifting toward her. "Break through?"
She gave a small nod, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You're already at the third and last star of the Innate Realm, Az. You've been holding it back without realizing. And me…" she smiled faintly, "I'm at the third and last star of the Novice Realm. If we don't take advantage of this calm now, we'll regret it when things get worse."
He exhaled slowly, rubbing his thumb along the shaft of his spear. "You really think we can advance here? In a frozen cave with half our energy drained?"
"You'd be surprised how often a breakthrough comes when you stop running," she said softly. "Besides… that fight stirred our mana. The body might be tired, but the core's restless. It's pushing for change."
Azrael looked at her, really looked, the faint shimmer around her skin, the way her breath seemed to pulse with light when she exhaled.
She wasn't wrong.
The air around both of them felt heavier, denser, like something unseen was pressing down.
"So how do we start?" he asked finally.
Olivia shifted closer, her tone turning calm and precise, almost like a teacher's. "First, you quiet the body. You can't draw in mana when your blood is still at war with itself."
She closed her eyes, demonstrating as she spoke. "Feel the flow, not in your muscles, not in your veins, beneath them. The inner current. It moves with your breath, not your will."
Azrael watched her for a moment, the slow rise and fall of her shoulders, the faint frost forming and melting near her lips with every exhale.
The air seemed to hum faintly around her now, rippling with an invisible rhythm.
He hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. What next?"
Olivia opened one eye, meeting his. "You sit."
He frowned. "Sit?, but am already sitting though"
"Cross-legged," she said with a little smirk. "Azrael Back straight, palms open. The moment you stop treating the flow like a weapon and start listening to it… that's when you'll feel the threshold."
He sighed, but there was a ghost of a grin tugging at his lips. "You really like bossing me around, don't you?"
"Of course I do."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head before pushing himself upright.
The floor was cold, hard, but he didn't care. He crossed his legs in front of the faintly glowing fire she had re lit, resting his hands on his knees.
The flicker of orange light danced across his face as he took a deep breath, letting his mind quiet.
For the first time since they'd entered this frozen dungeon, he wasn't thinking about running, fighting,his brother, mother or even Olivia the only one he had in this snowy hell, only the silence inside him.
Olivia watched him carefully, her expression softening. "Good," she murmured. "Now… look inward. Listen for the pulse of your core."
The fire popped again, a single spark floating up before fading into the dark.
Outside, the wind howled softly against the snowy cave, as if the world itself was holding its breath.