The ride home felt lighter than the journey out.
Not because the caravan carried less.
But because the weight in their hearts was gone.
Weeks of preparation, fear, and anticipation had ended in something none of the Vixens had dared say out loud before entering the Crystal Cave:
They had done it.
Not survived.
Not scraped by.
They had dominated an A-Rank dungeon.
The kind of raid they used to whisper about in taverns. The kind of stories veteran adventurers bragged about for years. The kind of achievement that separated dreamers from legends.
And now their names were attached to it.
Inside the dimensional space, celebration erupted the moment the mountains faded behind them.
Wine bottles were opened with reckless enthusiasm. A keg of ale appeared from storage. Someone had already decided that chairs were optional and dignity was negotiable. Laughter bounced off the walls in waves.
For the first time since the raid began, no one was watching corners.
No one was listening for monsters.
They were safe.
And they were proud.
Jax leaned against the far counter, listening more than speaking. The girls talked over one another, reliving moments from the dungeon like children recounting a miracle.
He smiled quietly.
Because he knew the truth behind their victory.
It wasn't the iPoints.
It wasn't gear.
It wasn't even the shadows.
It was belief.
There had been moments in the cave—critical moments—when each of them crossed a line inside themselves. When fear had stepped aside and something stronger took its place.
Confidence.
Jax hadn't made them stronger.
He'd just refused to let them pretend they were weak.
And now they could never unsee what they were capable of.
For him, though, the mission's greatest success wasn't the dungeon.
It wasn't the record.
It wasn't the absurd crystal haul.
It was Eldrich.
Hidden in the rear storage of the caravan sat a device the others didn't know about yet—a prototype dimensional gateway tuned to Jax's theory. A paired door. A teleportation anchor. The second half of a test that could change trade, travel, and politics across cities.
If it worked…
Crystalshire and Solmere wouldn't be separated by a week of dangerous roads.
They'd be minutes apart.
Jax could already see the future exploding outward.
And it thrilled him.
He was pulled from his thoughts by Bunny slamming a mug down on the table.
"I still can't believe they painted our portrait and hung it in the guild office," she said. "We're officially famous."
Nyxian crossed her arms. "I don't like the way they painted my horns. They are not that big."
Zee sipped her drink. "They get bigger when you're excited. And you were very excited after the raid."
Bunny immediately grinned. "Yeah, you get hornier the more horny you get too."
The table dissolved into laughter.
Nyxian threw a cushion at her.
The jokes didn't stop after that. They bounced between teasing and bragging, compliments disguised as insults, affection disguised as chaos. They sounded less like a party and more like sisters who had survived something together.
Llandra turned toward Jax.
"What do you think?"
Jax blinked. He had been only half listening, mentally drafting blueprints and trade routes.
"Oh—uh—the portrait? You all looked beautiful."
The girls froze.
Zee narrowed her eyes.
"That's not what we were talking about."
Jax straightened.
"You don't think we looked tough?" Llandra pressed.
He walked straight into the trap.
"Oh no, not at all. You didn't look rough or tough."
Silence.
Nyxian leaned forward slowly. "We didn't look tough."
Jax realized too late.
"That's not what I meant— I mean you look tough! Rough and tumble! Nobody would mess with you!"
Bunny gasped dramatically. "We look rough and tumble now."
Zee nodded gravely. "Someone just earned couch privileges tonight."
Jax muttered under his breath—loud enough for them to hear.
"Oh no. A full night of uninterrupted sleep. However will I survive."
The room erupted.
Llandra pointed at him. "Absolutely not. You're sleeping in there with us. But since you insulted this rough and tumble group…"
Nyxian finished the sentence, smiling wickedly.
"You're going to have to make it up to every single one of us."
Jax folded his arms. "And what will that cost me?"
Nyxian pretended to think.
"Oh, just a few hours of panting, screaming, and begging. And once we're done doing that… maybe we'll make you feel good too."
Even Jax laughed.
It wasn't lewd.
It wasn't crude.
It was victory laughter. The kind that comes after surviving something dangerous together. The kind that says: we're alive, we're strong, and we choose joy.
The caravan rolled smoothly beneath them, Grim and Steed pulling with tireless power. Outside, the world moved forward.
Inside, the Vixens dreamed bigger than they ever had before.
When they left Solmere, they dreamed of surviving.
Now?
They dreamed of becoming unstoppable.
And Jax listened to their voices, their laughter, their confidence filling the space like music.
Whatever came next…
They would face it together.
And none of them wanted that journey to end.