The world had narrowed to a single infuriating image.
Dante standing between his two pets, smiling.
A picture of easy friendship. Of shared peace she had not been invited to.
The sight was physical poison. Venom burning hotter than dragon fire.
The rage she had so carefully pushed down threatened to crack. To shatter.
She had played her part. Gone on their boring mission with the quiet swordsman and his lovesick shadow.
They had found the mana well. A deep, shimmering pool of pure, liquid energy. Filled their flasks without problems.
A victory. A success.
But it felt hollow. Bitter.
He had sent her away. He had planned this separation.
And the reason was standing on either side of him. Their faces glowing with soft, infuriating contentment.
Her smile was a weapon. Bright and sharp.
She approached them.
She had learned her lesson. A direct attack of rage and jealousy was a fool's plan.
It made her look childish. Unstable. A liability.
