The sterile white light of the Sanctuary corridor dissolved, solidifying into the familiar, enclosed space of his room. The transition from the petrified forest's deathly silence to the Sanctuary's gentle hum was always jarring. Jade took a single, weary step forward, the searing pain in his shoulder and back flaring with the movement.
Then he froze.
He wasn't alone.
Seraphina lounged on his bed as if it were her own throne of shadows and silk. She was perched on the edge, one leg elegantly crossed over the other, a knowing, predatory smile gracing her lips. "Welcome back, my dear," she purred, her voice like velvet wrapped around a blade. "I do hope the Second Floor was... stimulating."
Jade's glacial gaze swept over her, then past her, as if she were merely a piece of furniture. He didn't ask how she'd gotten in or why she was there. Questions were a form of engagement, and he would not give her that satisfaction.
He simply ignored her.
Turning his back to her—a calculated risk, a show of utter dismissal—he reached for the hem of his torn and dust-caked tunic. He pulled it over his head with a sharp, pained intake of breath, revealing the map of his struggle etched into his skin.
His back and right shoulder were a canvas of deep, angry bruising, the muscles swollen and tight. Sweat and grime clung to his skin, highlighting the lean, sculpted planes of his torso and the hard-earned definition of his arms. He stood before the room's reflective surface, his crimson eyes clinically analyzing the damage, his mind already calculating recovery time and adjustments to his training regimen.
He heard the soft rustle of silk behind him. The predatory stillness in the room shifted, becoming something sharper, more... hungry.
Seraphina's smile had vanished, replaced by a look of genuine, unsettling concern. "Oh, Jade..." she whispered, her voice losing its purr, becoming almost tender. She rose and glided towards him, her movements hypnotic. "To see such perfection... marred."
She stopped mere inches behind him. He could feel the faint, cold energy radiating from her. He didn't turn, didn't flinch. He just watched her in the reflection.
Her gaze was no longer on his injuries, but on the unmarred skin of his back, the powerful line of his shoulders. A faint, uncharacteristic flush touched her alabaster cheeks. Her hand, pale and elegant, rose.
Her cool fingertips brushed against the heated skin of his lower back, just above the waistline of his pants.
A jolt, like static, passed between them. It wasn't electricity; it was the shock of ice meeting fire.
For Seraphina, the sensation was overwhelming. The warmth of his living flesh, the scent of his sweat, ozone, and the coppery hint of blood from his strained muscles—it was a primal cocktail. It called to the ancient hunger buried beneath centuries of courtly control.
Her composure shattered.
A low, involuntary hiss escaped her lips. Her crimson eyes darkened, the pupils dilating. Behind her perfect smile, her fangs—the true, elongated canines of her kind—descended, growing visibly longer, sharper, pressing against her lower lip in a promise of piercing.
The thirst was a fire in her veins. The scent of him was intoxicating, maddening. She could almost taste the potent, divine-tainted blood singing just beneath his skin.
For a long, suspended second, she stood there, a vampire on the razor's edge, her body coiled, her breath caught in her throat. The urge to sink her fangs into the corded muscle of his shoulder, to claim and consume, was nearly irresistible.
Then, with a force of will that spoke of her ancient power, she reeled it in. The flush faded, replaced by a deathly pallor. The fangs retracted, but the wild, hungry light in her eyes remained.
"Rest well, my dear vessel," she breathed, her voice now a strained whisper. "You will need your strength."
In a swirl of dark fabric and a faint scent of frost and roses, she was gone, the door hissing shut behind her.
Only then did Jade let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He turned from the wall, his expression as cold and impassive as ever. But a single, anomalous thought echoed in the clear, frozen landscape of his mind.
He had felt her touch. He had seen her transformation in the reflection. He had recognized the predatory hunger, the lethal intent.
And he did not understand why he had not moved. Why he had allowed her to get so close. Why, for a fleeting moment, his own Obsidian Core had not reacted with defensive malice, but had instead remained perfectly, dangerously still.
The door hissed shut, sealing him in a silence that felt louder than the Boulder-Back's roar. Seraphina's scent—frost and roses and a faint, metallic tang of bloodlust—still hung in the air, a ghostly afterimage of her presence.
Jade's mind, cold and clear, processed the encounter.
Data Point: Seraphina possesses a means of unauthorized entry.
Data Point: Physical proximity and scent of blood induce a loss of predatory control, revealing a potential weakness.
Anomaly: My own non-reaction. Hypothesis: Assessed immediate threat level as sub-critical. Requires further analysis.
The why was a question for another time. The now demanded progress.
As if summoned by his will, the familiar translucent screen materialized, its text glowing with the promise of power.
<< FLOOR 2 CONQUEST REWARDS >>
EXP Gained: 2,500
LEVEL UP!
Jade: Level 6 -> Level 7
EXP to Next Level: 0 / 3,500
ATTRIBUTES
VITALITY: 18 -> 23 (+5)
STRENGTH: 16 -> 21 (+5)
DEXTERITY: 20
AGILITY: 22
MENTAL: 25
DIVINE AFFINITY: 1
<< ATTRIBUTE POINTS AVAILABLE: 0 >>
NEW TITLE UNLOCKED:
[Forest Breaker]: Slight increase to damage against earth and stone-based entities.
REWARD ITEM:
[Pristine Soul Shard]: A concentrated shard of pure essence. Can be consumed for rapid, comprehensive healing or offered to the System for a significant boon.
Jade allocated the points without hesitation. Vitality to fortify his body against the self-inflicted toll of his new style. Strength to ensure every blow, every foundational shatter, carried more decisive weight. As the numbers settled, a wave of revitalizing energy coursed through him, the System's power reinforcing his very cells.
He then focused on the [Pristine Soul Shard] that materialized in his palm, pulsing with soft, warm light. The logical choice was clear. He willed it to be consumed.
The effect was instantaneous and profound. A brilliant, soothing warmth flooded his system, centering on the torn muscles of his shoulder and back. He watched in the reflective surface as the deep, angry bruising faded from purple to yellow and then vanished entirely. The searing pain dissolved into a mild, warm ache, and then into nothing. In moments, his body was restored to peak condition, the physical cost of the Second Floor paid in full by the System's currency.
Power had been gained. The debt had been cleared.
Now, it was time to invest.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, the cold surface a familiar anchor. Closing his eyes, he plunged inward, into the throne room of his mind.
The shift was immediate, but something was... different.
The throne room was vaster, the pillars of black ice taller and more jagged. The shadows between them seemed deeper, more alive, swirling with faint, chaotic purple energy that mirrored the hue his eyes took when Obliterate surged. The air was colder, carrying a new, sharp scent of ozone and iron.
Alter-Jade was waiting, but he wasn't lounging. He stood before the obsidian throne, his arms crossed, a look of severe appraisal on his face.
"Took you long enough," he said, his voice echoing with a deeper, more resonant malice. "I felt it. The little vampire's hunger. Pathetic. She sees a meal. She doesn't see the predator it will fuel."
His crimson eyes narrowed, scanning Jade's spiritual form. "You've grown. But you're still soft. You let her touch you." He spat the words like venom.
Jade ignored the taunt. "The foundation is laid. The body is reinforced. Now, we build upon it."
"Indeed," Alter-Jade purred, a sharp, vicious smile finally gracing his lips. He gestured, and the throne room dissolved, reforming into the misty chasm edge. But the chasm seemed deeper, the mist thicker, the training ground itself reflecting Jade's increased power and the deepening chill within his core.
"Show me," Alter-Jade commanded, his form blurring as he assumed a combat stance. "Show me how a Forest Breaker fights."
Jade summoned his scythe. The pale bone haft was cool, familiar. But as his fingers closed around it, he felt it—a new, profound, and unsettling connection. The black star-iron blade seemed to drink the faint light of the mindscape more greedily than before. And from it emanated a subtle, ominous chill that was deeper than the ice of his core. It felt less like a tool, and more like a slumbering beast that had just begun to stir.
The grind began again.