Snow blasted sideways, curling off the cliffs in stinging sheets, but from where I sat, I could see everything.
Verdamona was the center of it.
Her whip was slicing down Fluviums with ease. She didn't just fight. She protected. Every move was angled to cover someone else. Every strike was perfectly timed to pull another fighter back from the brink.
I watched her dive into a cluster where four Fluxers were about to be swallowed whole. She cut three of the monsters down, spun, blocked the fourth's tentacle with her bare arm and shoved the wounded fighters behind her. Still, injuries were piling up.
"She has a hero complex. She'll save everyone, even if it kills her."
I turned my head. "You say that like you know."
Thales didn't look at me. His eyes were locked on her, on the way she swung again.
"I do, because I was like that once. When I was born, I thought I could prove them wrong. That if I fought hard enough, if I bled enough, if I stood tall enough, maybe hybrids would be respected. Maybe I could make them stop spitting at me and looking at me like I was dirt crawling into their bed. But the older I got, the more I realized the world wasn't forgiving. It doesn't matter if you save them. It doesn't matter if you die for them. They don't forgive you for being born."
The silence after that wasn't comfortable. Snow hissed against the rocks. Screams echoed below. My sister's breath clouded next to me.
"So you gave up?"
He exhaled sharply with a bitter laugh. He tapped his sword against a stone once.
"No, I changed. I made a different goal to find the Azure Sword and gain recognition through force and maybe to take over House Erdict and crush the mouths that scorned me."
Xaessiarerich tilted her head, intrigued.
"That explains why you're here."
"The Class Four Fluvium coming? It has a clue. Otherwise, I wouldn't be wasting my time in this frozen graveyard."
Xaessiarerich smirked. "I figured. Rumors spread fast in the Houses. And you don't seem like the type to wander anywhere without purpose."
But his gaze slid back down to Verdamona.
"She'll break herself if she keeps this up. And if she falls, morale will collapse with her. These people need a symbol. I don't like her hero act. It makes me sick but, I should warm up. Better for her alive than the whole fight crumbling."
Before I could say anything, he stood and then he jumped.
The drop was long, maybe thirty meters. He hit snow with a roll, bounced up like it was nothing, his sword already drawn. A Fluvium lunged for him. He carved it in two without slowing, then another, then three more.
"Show-off," I muttered, but I couldn't help the corner of my mouth twitching.
Beside me, Xaessiarerich sighed, her breath fogging out. She leaned forward on her hands.
"They're good people. They're better than the Houses deserve."
"Good people get buried first."
She gave me a look, but I stared down at the snowfields, at the bodies writhing, and Verdamona screaming orders while covered in blood and ice.
"To be honest, I never planned to be a good person."
Xaessiarerich blinked. "What?"
"If I have to use people as stepping stones to get what I want, I'll do it. If I have to manipulate, lie, sacrifice, kill, I'll do it. This world doesn't reward kindness. It rewards teeth. And I didn't come here to play saint."
"You sound like a real Argemenes now."
"I do."
Maybe that's why I was transmigrated as an Argemenes. I'm not some chosen hero. I'm not meant to save the world. Maybe it's because I already had the mindset for this House.
Down below, Thales cut through another wave. Verdamona staggered but stood tall, rallying the wounded like they were her army, not a pile of refugees.
They're good people. But me?
I'd use them if I had to. I'd step on their corpses if it meant reaching the truth I came here for. And for the first time since waking in this world, I felt like maybe the universe put me in the right body after all.
°°°°°°
By the time the last Fluvium melted into black sludge, the sun was already sagging low over the frozen ridges. The sky was painted in bruised purples and dying embers, a cruel kind of beauty. I sat there on the cliffs, staring at what was left of the battlefield.
We barely survived.
This time, there were no deaths but the cost was written all over the ground. Blood steaming against snow and groans echoing through the valley. Seventy were severely injured with their bones shattered, limbs gone and organs half-dissolved by slime acid. Another hundred and twenty were bruised, cut and burned. The rest were shaken, but intact.
It was a victory, if one could call it that.
Before the light completely faded, Xaessiarerich and I moved through the carnage like scavengers. We collected the Fluvehearts. To the others, they were grotesque trophies. To us? They were nutrients.
I bit into the first one. To them, it was like trying to gnaw through diamond. But for me and my sister, it was like... sugarcane? It was sweet, fibrous and filled with power. Xana bled into me with every bite, burning through my veins.
Xaessiarerich grinned at me with shards glinting in her teeth.
"Best part about being us," she muttered between crunches.
I nodded, though my eyes kept drifting to the horizon. The Octopus hadn't shown up and that was good. If it had come now, we'd be finished. No doubt about it. Sooner or later, it would drag itself out of the depths, and when it did, we have to be ready.
Night came sooner than expected.
I wandered the camp, letting the crunch of snow under my boots drown out the moans of the wounded. Lanterns flickered dimly inside makeshift shelters. Fires burned low. People slept in clusters, huddled for warmth and fear alike.
That's when I saw Verdamona.
She stood at the center of the camp, speaking with some of the leaders from different groups. Even after everything, after spilling her blood across the battlefield and dragging dozens back from death, she was still upright, giving orders and carrying them all on her shoulders like she was born to do it.
When the leaders finally dispersed, she took a few steps forward. Her knees buckled.
"Shit—"
I moved before my brain even finished the thought. I caught her just before she hit the ground, her body collapsing into mine with the weight of exhaustion.
Her face was pale. Her eyes were fluttering half-shut. I sighed, holding her limp form against my chest.
"You really pushed yourself this time."
I glanced around. No one else was awake and no one else watching. Of course she made sure of that. Verdamona always kept her suffering private and shouldered the burden alone. She even sacrificed her sleep and rest for night shifts and guard duty.
I hated this side of her. She was stronger than half this camp combined, but I hated it because it was wasted. She gave and gave and gave, bleeding herself dry for people who, in the end, would betray her, use her and turn their backs on her when the winds shifted. Like Haruno Nishikata for example.
If it weren't for the love interests, she would already be dead by now.
I adjusted her in my arms, her head against my shoulder. She was lighter than I expected.
"Idiot," I muttered, though the word came out softer than I meant it to.
I carried her across the camp, careful not to draw attention. No one stirred. Her breaths were quiet and uneven, as if she was still fighting battles even in her dreams.
My tent wasn't far. I pushed the flap open with my shoulder and stepped inside. I lowered her carefully onto my bedroll, pulling a spare blanket over her. She shifted faintly, a sigh escaping her lips, but she didn't wake.
I stood there for a moment, staring down at her.
I should have left her there and collapse in the snow. She should reap the consequences of her own stupidity. That's what the Argemenes in me whispered. That's what survival whispered. But instead here I was, watching her sleep.
"You're going to kill yourself one day, Verdamona. And I don't think anyone here will stop you. Not unless…"
I didn't finish.
I sat back, leaned against the tent pole, and kept watch while she slept.
"Seriously, why did I choose someone who has severe trauma issues for a friend?"