Under the wary eyes of the thieves who still lingered in the distance, Luciel and Elara descended the hillside with their two beasts, shadows melting into the darkness as they slipped away from the half-moon valley.
They followed the Red Ghost Spider's silent path toward its hidden den.
"You really did move a lot of things," Elara said, staring wide-eyed at the twenty pale cocoons stacked neatly before her.
Luciel gave a small, rueful smile and shook his head. "Not enough. Time was too short."
The group they'd rescued—thousands of desperate people—had lived on jerky for a month. Even after all that effort, they had managed to carry off barely two thousand catties of the stuff.
Elara rolled her eyes, her expression hovering somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "You call that not enough?" she muttered under her breath.
Luciel pretended not to notice and instead looked toward her. "Would you help me move a few things?"
"Help you move?" she repeated, narrowing her silver-white eyes.
He gave a faint smile. "If you do, I'll let you stay at my home tonight. Think of it as a reward for your trouble."
Elara frowned, her white brows drawing together. "No need. I'll help you move the supplies—but in exchange, you'll give me the flower."
The words came sharp and guarded. The white-haired girl didn't dare sleep under the roof of someone she'd only just met, not when she carried the curse of the virtual ghost infection.
Luciel's smile softened. "That's fine." He didn't press her.
He hoisted two white cocoons onto the broad back of his tricolor lizard. The beast, now a mature level-four creature, could carry loads equal to its own massive weight—more than a ton. Luciel stacked the cocoons until they resembled a small moving hill.
The Red Ghost Spider stood ready beside it, its eight crimson legs flexing. Luciel piled another two layers of white cocoons onto its back, roughly five hundred catties in all.
"Here," he said finally, fastening one cocoon to Elara's shoulders. "Just carry this one."
Elara shifted under the weight, testing it, then looked up sharply. "This isn't heavy. Give me another."
Luciel shook his head, amused. "No. I've already sorted the loads."
He added two more cocoons to his own back, securing them with thick ropes, then tucked another pair beneath his arms. "Let's go home."
Elara blinked. For a moment, she simply stared at him—at this strange man burdened almost to his limits, trudging forward without complaint, his beasts marching behind him like patient soldiers.
Then she sighed. "Really… what a weird person," she murmured, and hurried to catch up.
The night wrapped around them like a heavy cloak. Ahead, the tricolor lizard and the Red Ghost Spider moved silently, parting the grass and stones with uncanny grace. Behind them, Luciel and Elara followed, one step at a time, their breaths misting in the cool air.
Luciel said little. His attention flicked constantly toward the shadows, alert for the low growl of predators or the rustle of movement in the dark.
Elara opened her mouth several times, trying to start a conversation, but each time the words felt awkward and stuck in her throat. In the end, she said nothing.
Occasionally, a beast's distant howl echoed through the night. The sound rose and fell, more haunting than threatening. It reminded Elara how far they were from the safety of any settlement.
After what felt like an eternity of silence and walking, Luciel finally spoke. "We're here."
The relief in his voice pulled her back from her drifting thoughts.
"Here?" she asked, glancing around. "Where's your home?"
All she could see were rocks—jagged boulders, rough cliffs, and no hint of shelter.
Luciel simply smiled. "Wait a moment." He placed a hand on the rocky ground and closed his eyes.
The earth trembled.
To Elara's astonishment, the ground ahead began to shift, stone folding and rising until it formed a staircase of smooth rock leading upward.
"Let's go," Luciel said, already climbing. "My house is up there."
Elara blinked, silver eyes wide. "That's… amazing. How did you do that?"
The tricolor lizard made a low chuffing sound, as if urging her forward.
"Ah—sorry!" she said, quickly bowing her head in apology to the beast before hurrying after Luciel.
When she reached the top, Luciel was waiting. He gestured behind him. "That's my house."
Before Elara could respond, he cupped his hands and called out, "Mino! I'm back!"
The door burst open. A wash of golden firelight spilled across the rocky ground, and a small figure dashed out.
"Luciel!" the girl cried, her rabbit ears bouncing as she ran. "You're okay? You're not hurt, are you?"
Luciel laughed softly. "I'm fine. Don't worry."
Mino exhaled in visible relief, immediately taking one of the white cocoons from his arms. "The Skink sent some things back earlier," she said breathlessly. "If it hadn't been for the signal by the door, I would've been terrified seeing it out there alone."
"Skink's gotten bigger," Luciel said warmly. "She can handle loads like a pro now."
Behind them, Elara lingered at the threshold, unsure if she should step inside. "Um… excuse me…"
Luciel blinked, realizing his mistake. "Ah—sorry! Elara, come in. You're welcome here."
Elara's shoulders relaxed at once. "Thank you. I'll try not to be a bother."
Inside, the house was nothing like she expected. It was tidy and warm, with a small fire burning under a pot of water, and two rooms leading off from the main hall—one closed by a wooden door, the other open and filled with soft light. Everything smelled faintly of herbs and woodsmoke.
Elara hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. Her cloak was filthy, tattered from the journey, and she could feel the grit of dirt on her face. Next to Luciel and Mino—both clean, neat, almost shining in the lamplight—she felt like a shadow intruding on someone else's peace.
"Please, sit," Luciel said, motioning toward a stool by the table.
Elara nodded quietly and took the seat. Her gaze wandered to the twelve wooden barrels lined up neatly along the wall.
Luciel noticed. "Mino, would you help untie Elara's load?"
Mino hesitated. "Uh… o-okay," she murmured, picking up a small knife. But her movements were stiff, her blue eyes flicking nervously toward the stranger.
Luciel frowned slightly. "Mino?"
The rabbit-eared girl shuffled closer, her small hands trembling. She moved as if approaching a wild animal that might bite.
Elara caught the look and felt a pang in her chest. She turned her head away. "It's fine. I can do it myself."
Her voice was calm, but inside, shame prickled hot and bitter. She had seen that fear before—the subtle flinch when someone noticed the faint scarlet lines along her cheekbones, marks of the virtual ghost infection.
She envied Mino's clean, unmarked face. Her soft furred ears. Her unbroken innocence.
Luciel sighed quietly. "Mino, go help Skink and Arachni unload the rest," he said gently. "I'll take care of this."
Relieved, the rabbit girl nodded quickly and hurried away, her steps light again now that she had an excuse to flee.
Luciel drew his saber and crouched beside Elara, slicing through the webbing that bound the cocoon to her back. "Don't mind her," he said softly. "Mino's just shy around strangers."
"I'm used to it," Elara murmured, eyes fixed on the floor.
Luciel studied her in silence for a moment. She looked so small like that—her shoulders drawn in, her expression shuttered, as though she expected rejection at any moment.
He sighed inwardly. First Mino, now this girl. Really, they're both such problem girls, he thought, though not unkindly.
Then, hoping to distract her, he said, "Didn't you want to see the flower with wings?"
At once, Elara's head snapped up, silver eyes shining. "The flower? Where is it?"
Luciel smiled. "Come. I'll show you."
He led her past the firelit hall and through a narrow passage carved into the stone. The air grew cooler, carrying the faint scent of moss and earth. At the end of the passage, the space opened into a small underground garden.
Bioluminescent mosses glowed faintly along the walls, and in the center stood a low wooden table. Upon it was a glass jar—inside, a single delicate flower floated, its petals translucent as moonlight. Tiny wings, like those of a dragonfly, shimmered at its sides.
Elara gasped. "It's real…"
The flower's wings fluttered lazily, stirring the air within the jar.
Luciel's eyes softened as he watched her awe. "I found it deep in the ruins last year. It's the only one I've ever seen still alive."
Elara leaned closer, breath fogging the glass. "It's… beautiful. Like something out of a dream."
She reached out but stopped herself just short of touching the jar. "So this is what you meant by 'flowers that fly.'"
Luciel nodded. "It's fragile. The wings help it drift on the wind, spreading seeds over wide distances—but that's also what makes it easy to destroy."
Elara turned to him slowly. "And you'll really trade it to me?"
His gaze met hers, calm and steady. "That was our deal, wasn't it?"
For a moment, neither spoke. The soft glow of the moss reflected in her silver eyes, mingling with the faint crimson lines that marked her skin.
Luciel could see the conflict in her expression—the disbelief, the hope, the fear of being betrayed yet again.
"You really are strange," she whispered finally. "Most people wouldn't even talk to someone infected… let alone invite them home."
Luciel chuckled quietly. "Most people are idiots."
That startled a small, unwilling laugh out of her.
He smiled, satisfied to see some light return to her face. "Come on. You can rest here for a bit. I'll set up a tent for you outside if you still don't want to stay indoors."
Elara hesitated. "No… It's all right. I'll stay by the fire. I don't want to be a burden."
"You won't be," Luciel said simply.
As they returned to the main room, Mino and the beasts were already finishing their work. The tricolor lizard settled near the doorway, eyes half-lidded, while the Red Ghost Spider quietly spun a webbed barrier over the entrance like a curtain.
Elara sat near the hearth, watching the flames dance. For the first time in a long while, she felt warmth seep into her bones—something gentler than survival, almost like safety.
Luciel busied himself arranging the supplies, while Mino stirred the pot over the fire. The scent of broth filled the air.
For a while, no one spoke. The silence wasn't awkward anymore—just quiet, steady breathing and the crackle of burning wood.
Then Elara glanced up, her voice barely above a whisper. "Luciel… thank you."
He looked back, smiling faintly. "You're welcome."
She hesitated again, then said softly, "You're right. You really are weird."
Luciel chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Maybe. But sometimes being weird helps."
Mino peeked over from the pot, her rabbit ears twitching, curious now instead of afraid. Elara caught her gaze and offered a small, tentative smile.
It was awkward, fragile—but it was a start.
Luciel watched the two girls from across the room and sighed to himself. One shy bunny, one haunted ghost girl… He smiled wryly. They're all problem girls.
And yet, he thought as he looked into the flickering light that painted their faces with warmth and life—maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all.