[Chapter 324. The Choice]

Searanox walked over to Iris with a measured stride, his boots making soft indentations in the grass as he closed the distance between them. He placed his hand on her head, his fingers scratching behind the sensitive area of her ear where the dark fur thinned. The gesture sent a shiver through her body—a visible tremor running from her pointed ears down to the tip of her tail. He lowered himself behind her, the movement fluid and practiced, creating a space for her to occupy. Iris responded by pushing into his touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she leaned her weight against him.

In one smooth motion, she shifted onto his lap, positioning herself flush against his torso. As she settled, the rest of her dark armor vanished in a pale blue flash, replaced by a fine silken tunic clinging to her curvaceous form. The transformation left her fur-covered shoulders and upper back exposed to the morning air. She leaned in, nipping at the exposed skin of his neck with her sharp canines, just hard enough to leave faint marks without breaking the surface.

"How was the dungeon?" he asked, his voice low and calm despite the intimate contact. His hand slid beneath the fabric of her tunic, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine before brushing against the soft, dense fur on her back. The touch felt proprietary yet tender—a familiar exchange speaking of countless similar moments.

Iris nuzzled closer against his neck. Her warm breath tickled his skin as she whispered into his ear, her words lost to the others. "The boss was more cunning than I expected, but I managed to overcome him. There were... moments of difficulty." Her tail, freed from the confines of her armor, swayed behind her, the tip curling around his leg in a gesture of affection and possessiveness.

Lana and Carmen looked away, their faces flushed as they found sudden interest in examining their own armor pieces. Sarah leaned back on her elbows with a knowing smirk, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watched the display. Vanessa's knuckles whitened as she gripped her knees, her gaze fixed on some distant point on the horizon. Her composure remained a fragile shell, the mask of indifference cracking at the edges with each passing second.

"I've gained enough experience for my first skill enhancement," Iris said, pulling back to look into his eyes. Her silver pupils expanded, capturing his reflection as her dark mane fell to one side, obscuring her face.

Searanox's fingers weaved through the fur and hair at the nape of her neck, his touch possessive and reassuring. "Before we talk about your level, let me hear how the fight played out. Start from the beginning."

She described the battle in detail, her voice measured and precise as she recounted each combat phase. Her words painted a picture of calculated risk, adaptation, and efficiency. She explained how she had to adapt her fighting style mid-battle when the Gatura King revealed his throne-weapon, and how she identified the pattern in his dual-wielding technique.

As she spoke, she shifted against him, her movements a subtle dance of intimacy and report, adjusting her position to emphasize particular points in her narrative. Her tail thrashed against his leg, the grip tightening when she described the moment she nearly fell to the King's devastating combination of attacks. She made no mention of her shadow hound—an omission so deliberate it spoke volumes to anyone who knew her well.

He listened, his expression unreadable, asking the occasional question about the Gatura King's abilities or her tactical decisions. His focus remained entirely on her performance and the data she provided, dissecting it like a complex algorithm. His fingers traced patterns in the dense fur at the small of her back, his touch light yet possessive, memorizing the topography of her body while cataloging her battle report.

When she finished, Searanox gave a slow nod. "Your adaptation to the King's dual-wielding pattern was adequate. However, I expected you to deal with them more swiftly; they countered my drones, therefore I was severely handicapped." His voice was measured, free of emotion but layered with an undertone of analytical dissatisfaction. His hand tightened on her hip, the pressure a silent reminder of the standards he expected.

A hidden sword inside the throne. How likely is it that I can steal it?

Searanox thought while Iris bit at his skin, her sharp canines pressing against the side of his neck, leaving faint marks that faded within seconds. "Honey, not now," he murmured, holding her hips in place. His thumb stroked the curve of her hipbone in a gesture of both restraint and promise.

A soft sound escaped Iris before she whispered again, "Later?" Her voice held a mix of disappointment and anticipation, her silver eyes searching his face for a reaction.

"Yes. When we return, you get your reward," he said, taking out an E-Grade Skillstone from his storage ring. The stone materialized in his hand with a faint shimmer, its surface etched with golden runes pulsing with contained energy. "You can keep the silver, but I will take the Lodestone. As to your earlier question, improve whatever you like. I have full confidence in your judgment."

The stone felt cool and smooth in her palm, its energy thrumming with potential against her skin. Her silver eyes flickered between the stone and the glowing system windows listing her available skills. The choice weighed on her, not from indecision, but from the calculus of warfare.

Arcane Strike offered more direct power, a refinement of what she already knew—a weaponized certainty to make every blow count. Mystic Ward would grant her more durability, turning her body into a fortress against whatever new horrors this world might throw at her. But Blade Step... Blade Step was freedom. It meant control over the battlefield, the ability to dictate every engagement, to appear and vanish like a true predator. The thought alone sent a thrill through her, her tail twitching with suppressed excitement against his leg.

Her mind returned to the fog-filled throne room, to the moments when speed and positioning stood as the only things between her and death. She remembered the many times her strikes failed to connect, her Zweihänder passing through empty air where the King had stood mere seconds before. She recalled the openings she couldn't reach, his massive blade creating a barrier of space she struggled to breach with conventional movement. The King had used his sword to strike at a distance, manipulating the battlefield itself with energy blasts from the ground.

For a moment she envisioned what the enhanced version of Blade Step could be, then considered the properties of her Mystic Ward. The ward had saved her life countless times, absorbing damage that would have otherwise shattered her bones. An enhanced version might allow her to protect others, or even reflect attacks back at their source—a powerful defensive option complementing her frontline role.

After a long moment of contemplation, her decision crystallized with sharp clarity. Speed over durability. Control over protection. The ability to dictate every engagement on her terms.

She nipped his skin a final time, a playful gesture masking the seriousness of her choice. He watched as she crushed the stone in her grip, the energy flowing into her with a soft red light illuminating her features from within. Her system windows shifted, confirming the enhancement.

"Very well." His approval was a simple statement, but it carried the weight of a king's decree. His thumb stroked the soft fur behind her ear one last time before he stood, pulling her to her feet with effortless strength. "Now," he said, "We've lingered long enough."

Carmen folded the worn blanket before storing it away in her ring. The others mounted their drones with practiced ease, their armored forms settling onto the ATV-like machines. As Carmen settled onto her own, they flew off into the distance, moving in formation across the grasslands like a flock of metallic birds. No conversation passed between them as the drones brought them toward the next Dungeon. The only sounds were the whisper of wind and the low hum of machinery beneath them, the silence broken only by the occasional adjustment to their positions.

This one stood out in the open just as the last one had—a swirling blue vortex leading into Mining Shaft G73. The portal pulsed with rhythmic energy, its depths promising darkness and danger, a stark contrast to the bright orange sky above.

Searanox dismounted with fluid grace, his boots making soft indentations in the grass as he pulled Iris close against him. His hand wrapped possessively around the nape of her neck. The gesture was both intimate and commanding, a reminder of their dynamic that made her tail swish in subtle acknowledgment.

"You keep them safe in there," he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "I don't want to lose any of my assets."

Iris gave a nod, her silver eyes meeting his with unwavering loyalty before she kissed him—a quick, possessive gesture conveying more than words could. "I will," she whispered against his lips. "Anything I need to look out for?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as I know. It's a mining dungeon, so expect narrow corridors, cave-ins, and whatever creatures have made their home in the darkness."

"Will you wait for us?"

"No, dear," he said with a faint smirk. "I have something to do while you are in there. Just tell me when you get out."

Iris pushed away from Searanox, the brief separation feeling cold despite the warm morning air. She turned toward the other women, her expression shifting from intimate to professional in an instant. "Let's go."

All four of them stood near the swirling blue vortex. The portal to Mining Shaft G73 pulsed with rhythmic energy, making the air around it thrum. Lana and Carmen stepped closest, their faces pale as they stared into the abyss. Vanessa maintained a stiff posture beside them, her gaze fixed forward, knuckles white where she gripped her Tome. Iris positioned herself furthest from the portal, her silver eyes locked on Searanox for a final moment before she turned.

Without hesitation, she stepped through the shimmering curtain of energy, her form vanishing in an instant. Sarah followed next, a faint smirk on her lips as she disappeared. Carmen went after her, taking a deep breath before stepping through. Lana hesitated, her eyes darting back toward Searanox as if seeking reassurance, before gathering her courage and joining the others. Vanessa was last. Her movements were rigid as she crossed the threshold, her expression unreadable as she vanished into the portal's depths. One by one, they stepped through the vortex, their forms dissolving into the ethereal blue light.

Searanox stood there for several seconds, watching the portal's energy swirl and settle after absorbing the last of them. The descending silence felt unnerving, broken only by the distant cry of some unseen creature in the grasslands. His hand instinctively went to the storage ring on his finger, his mind already calculating the next phase of his plan.

With a practiced motion, he mounted his travel drone ascending into the orange morning sky. He adjusted his trajectory, flying toward the river at a steady pace. There was a place he needed to check out—a location mentioned by Kandora and her squad during their interrogation.

After flying over the hilly grassland for several minutes, the terrain shifted beneath him, the undulating plains giving way to a rugged landscape with scattered rock formations. Then he saw it—the glint of water in the distance, a silver ribbon winding through the landscape, catching the light as it flowed toward the horizon. He increased his speed, the drone humming with additional power as he descended to get a better view.

Somewhere around here should be the center.

He thought, looking down from high above. His enhanced vision scanned the riverbanks systematically. As he drew closer to the water, the details sharpened.

There it was—a small complex of buildings near the river's end.