Chapter 155: Catching Up with Mira

"You have pushed your physical limits to the absolute brink," Leon noted, his dual-colored eyes analyzing her failing stamina.

"Your body requires immediate food and rest to properly integrate your recent level-ups."

He gestured toward the beautiful, newly renovated estate. "Please. Come inside."

Mira followed them up the polished wooden stairs of the porch, entirely captivated by the structural beauty of the home.

The bamboo walls pulsed with a faint, protective earth-mana, humming with a deep, resonant frequency that immediately put her at ease.

As she crossed the threshold, her player interface briefly registered the dense network of magical defensive wards woven into the floorboards.

The interior of the main room was immaculate, flooded with warm, amber light from the bioluminescent lanterns hanging overhead.

"Make yourself comfortable," Snow declared, tossing her massive silver buster sword casually into a corner of the room.

The heavy weapon landed with a dull thud, looking entirely out of place against the elegant mahogany furniture.

"I’ll get the hearth fired up. You look like you could eat an entire boar by yourself."

Snow didn’t wait for a response. She bounded over to the open-air kitchen area, entirely shifting from a lethal warrior to an eager host.

She grabbed a heavy iron skillet, pulling thick, marbled cuts of elite flank steak from a magical preservation chest.

Within seconds, the sound of searing meat and the intoxicating aroma of spiced honey and garlic filled the entire estate.

Mira sank gratefully onto a plush, woven silk cushion beside a low mahogany table.

She felt completely out of place in her mud-caked, blood-stained armor, but she lacked the energy to care.

Leon took a seat across from her, his posture relaxed, yet retaining the undeniable, imposing presence of a king holding court.

He poured a cup of crystal-clear water from a ceramic pitcher, sliding it gently across the table toward her.

"Drink," Leon instructed softly. "The water from the mana-fall carries minor restorative properties."

Mira took the cup with trembling hands, downing the cool, sweet liquid in three desperate gulps.

She instantly felt a soothing warmth spread through her chest, easing the burning ache in her lungs.

She set the cup down, finally meeting Leon’s intense, dual-colored gaze.

"I can’t believe it’s actually you," Mira whispered, a tired, genuine smile touching her lips.

"I am very real," Leon replied, pouring her another cup. "Though my circumstances have evolved significantly since the Lotus Rest."

He looked at her ruined armor, the fresh, barely-healed scars on her arms, and the hardened edge in her silver eyes.

"Your circumstances have evolved as well, Mira. You have breached the Adept tier."

Mira nodded slowly, tracing the rim of her wooden cup with a scarred finger.

"It wasn’t a clean journey," she admitted, her voice dropping as the memories of the past month flooded back.

"After you left, the beginner zones became an absolute bloodbath. Everyone was panicking about the elimination cycle."

Leon listened silently, his expression unreadable, allowing her the space to unpack the trauma of her solitary grind.

"I tried to stay solo," Mira continued, her gaze dropping to the polished bamboo table.

"But the experience curve was a brick wall. I was nearly killed by a pack of corrupted bears in the Whispering Weald."

"You clearly survived," Leon noted calmly. "How did you bridge the gap?"

"A strike team found me," Mira explained, a brief, nostalgic warmth lighting up her silver eyes.

"They called themselves the Valkyrie Vanguard. It was a sisterhood, a guild entirely comprised of female players."

Snow, who was expertly flipping the searing steaks at the kitchen counter, paused for a moment to listen.

"An all-female guild?" Snow asked, glancing over her shoulder. "That’s a rare demographic in this meat-grinder."

"They were incredible," Mira nodded, her voice growing slightly stronger as she remembered her fallen comrades.

"They didn’t operate like the tyrant guilds. They actively sought out struggling female players and funneled resources to them."

Mira explained the intricate, highly efficient leveling strategy the sisterhood had employed.

She detailed how the veteran tanks would absorb the catastrophic damage of high-tier elites, deliberately leaving the killing blows for the lower-level recruits.

"It was a flawless system," Mira said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her tone. "It pushed me into the late twenties in a matter of weeks."

Leon analyzed the tactical approach, recognizing the mathematical efficiency of funneling experience to bypass the system’s steep curves.

"If the system was flawless, why are you sitting in my home alone?" Leon asked, his question piercing directly to the core of the issue.

Mira sighed, running a hand through her matted silver hair.

"Because human nature isn’t flawless," she murmured sadly. "The leadership fractured about a week ago."

"There was a dispute over securing a permanent safe zone before the elimination cycle locked the borders."

She described the bitter, irreconcilable arguments that had torn the sisterhood apart.

The fear of the impending purge had poisoned their camaraderie, turning collaborative allies into paranoid rivals.

The guild had officially disbanded, scattering its members to the wind to fend for themselves.

"I was on my own again," Mira finished, looking back up at Leon. "But they gave me the foundation I needed."

"I took the gear they gave me, and I used the combat rotations they taught me, and I dragged myself across the Level 30 threshold."

She looked toward the open sliding doors, staring out at the towering, jagged crystalline forest in the distance.

"I crossed into Sector 12," she added quietly. "I’ve been fighting non-stop since then. Just trying to find a place to sleep."

Leon held her gaze, recognizing the profound, unyielding resilience burning beneath her exhaustion.

She did not possess an SSS-Rank talent, nor did she have a Steadfast entity actively boosting her progression like Snow did.

Mira had fought the system on its own brutal terms, bleeding for every single point of experience.

"You possess a formidable spirit, Mira," Leon stated, his words carrying the absolute, uncompromising weight of objective truth.

"The system is designed to break players who operate without immense advantages. You refused to break."

Mira felt a sudden, unexpected lump form in her throat.

Hearing that level of validation from a man who casually manipulated the laws of reality was completely overwhelming.

She blinked rapidly, fighting back the exhausted tears that threatened to spill over her eyelashes.

"Alright, enough grim survival talk," Snow announced brightly, entirely shattering the heavy, emotional tension in the room.

She walked over to the low mahogany table, carrying a massive wooden platter loaded with food.

Thick, perfectly seared elite flank steaks sizzled alongside vibrant, roasted crystalline vegetables and caramelized Sun Apples.

The sheer volume of caloric density on the plate was enough to feed a small army.

Snow set the platter down in the center of the table, pulling up a silk cushion and taking a seat right beside Leon.

She handed Mira a silver fork and a wooden plate, offering a warm, incredibly welcoming smile.

"Eat until you can’t move," Snow instructed playfully. "You need the protein to rebuild those muscle fibers."

Mira didn’t need to be told twice. The intoxicating smell of the perfectly cooked meat completely overrode her manners.

She began to eat with frantic, desperate enthusiasm, savoring the rich, magical vitality flooding her depleted system.

Leon watched the two women, a quiet, grounding peace settling completely over his mind.

He took a small piece of the roasted flank steak, enjoying the complex, savory spices Snow had expertly applied.

The estate was safe. The threats had been purged. The Vanguard had successfully carved a sanctuary out of hell.

As Mira eagerly demolished her second steak, Snow leaned back against her cushion, wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin.

She looked at the silver-haired player, evaluating the girl’s quiet beauty and her undeniable, proven combat prowess.

Snow then turned her head, resting her hand casually on Leon’s thigh under the table.

Her crystalline blue eyes danced with a sudden, mischievous, and entirely unpredictable spark.

The atmosphere in the room was warm, domestic, and utterly relaxed.

Snow tilted her head slightly, studying Leon’s flawless, stoic profile before dropping a verbal bomb into the quiet room.

"So," Snow asked cheerfully, her voice carrying absolutely no trace of jealousy or malice.

"When will you make it official, making Mira your second wife?"