Chapter 32 - Vulnerability

Renji’s chest burned with every breath.
“Rest, Renji,” Celia said quietly, her tone brooking no argument.
She smoothed her robe and slipped out the door. “You’ll need your strength.”

Silence pressed in.

Renji exhaled and draped an arm across his forehead.
Alina’s face filled his thoughts.

“I just needed you to know. While some of it has been tough, I’ll treasure the time I’ve spent with you.”
“You’ll make your way back to your world soon. All I ask is that you think of me every now and then… because I won’t forget you.”

What was she trying to say? The memory cut sharper than any blade. She had looked right at him when she said it.

Memories flowed into his head—the hellhound fight, the wyverns, the cold nights in the dungeon camps they had shared.

I’m sorry, Alina… I couldn’t stop them…

He felt a dull ache in his chest, not from his wounds, but from something else he couldn’t quite place.

Renji tried to push himself upright. Muscles screamed in protest, his vision swam, and he collapsed back with a ragged gasp.

“Damn it…” His fist clenched against the sheets. Whatever it takes, I’m going to bring her back.

But pain and exhaustion won out. His eyelids dragged shut, and he sank into merciful, dreamless sleep.

***

Beneath the Duke’s Mansion, Floor Twenty, The Great Labyrinth.

A few days later, Alina lay awake on the bed, her wrists still bound. The room smelled of damp stone and stale air. Renji’s face filled her thoughts.

I didn’t finish what I wanted to say. Did he understand?
Will I ever see him again?
A single tear welled in her eye.

She shouldn’t ask him to stay. She couldn’t ask him to stay. If this was the end, let it be one last glance. One last word.

Creaking footsteps interrupted her. The door opened, slow and deliberate. Rovan stepped in, carrying a steaming bowl and a mug. He looked older by lamplight. Every line in his face was a mark of regret.

Anger flared, then collapsed into something colder. “Why bother?” she spat, voice brittle. “When Vaerina is done with me, I’ll be dead.”

“You don’t know that.” Rovan’s voice wavered. He set the bowl down on the low table and kept his gaze on the floor.

“I know.” She swallowed and forced the words out. “I can feel it.”

“Alina…” he muttered, helpless.

“If I die, the power dies with me—is that it?” Her voice rose. “Is that the only reason you keep me alive?”

“No, Alina,” he countered, a little more conviction in his voice.

“What was Vaerina talking about the other time? About the Undine spirit?”

“You were summoned, not born…” Rovan looked away, his face strained with guilt.

“What are you talking about?”

“About twenty years ago, Duke Thorval was sold on the idea of subjugating all the floors. He believed the way to achieve that was to gain control of a powerful being. Vaerina had deciphered how summoning magic works—at least in part.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “The spirit alone would not survive in this world, so a human body was formed around it. The problem we didn’t foresee was that the human body took the form of an infant. You.”

“So you raised me, with the hope of using my power later?”

Rovan’s jaw worked. “I was ordered to at the start.” His hands trembled as he closed his fists. “Later, as the years passed, I started to hope your power would never wake.”

“Then why help her now?” she demanded.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, voice low.
“Try me.”
He shook his head, eyes closing as if the words themselves cost him. “She saved me. Once. From myself.”
“What do you mean?”
His silence stretched. At last, he muttered, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“What about Renji?” Her voice was steadier than she felt. “What did he ever do to you or Vaerina that he had to be hunted?”

“In the beginning, he was an obstacle in our way to get to you.” Rovan’s fingers tightened on the spoon. “Now…” He swallowed. “Now that strange power he possesses—Vaerina thinks he’s too much of a risk to leave alive.”

“Leave him alone!” Alina cried out, half pleading. “He’s just searching for a way back to his world.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Rovan shook his head.

“You already have me captive. Just leave him be, please, Rovan,” she continued, pleading.

“I’ve said too much already,” he said flatly.

He offered her the spoon as if a gesture could erase everything. “Eat.”

She turned away sharply.

Rovan sighed, the sound of someone losing a small fight with fate.

She met his eyes at last. “I never want to see you again.”

Rovan relented and placed the bowl of stew on the table.

Footsteps clicked in the corridor just as he turned to leave. The door swung open again, and Vaerina’s voice, cold as ice, filled the room. “She’s awake,” she said. “Let’s continue.”

Vaerina placed a deliberate hand on his chest as he was about to pass her. “Not staying to watch?”

“I don’t see the point.”

“I warned you, Rovan, twenty years ago—not to get attached.” She withdrew her hand.

Rovan left the chamber without another word.

Alina stared at Vaerina with burning eyes. “Just kill me already!” she spat. “I have nothing for you!”

“On the contrary, my dear Princess. You have much to offer.” She raised the sceptre. The orb at its tip glowed faintly as streaks of magic reached out toward Alina.

Alina stared defiantly at Vaerina as she channelled magic from within. Her skin took on a blue hue as glowing lines traced across her neck and face.

The back-and-forth magical tug-of-war went on for about an hour.

“Tch!” Vaerina clicked her tongue. “You have gotten better at resisting. That won’t do, Princess.”

Alina collapsed back onto the stone bed, gasping. Sweat covered her brow and soaked her robes.

“If I co-operate, will you leave him be?” Alina asked between breaths.

“Who? That swordsman with peculiar magic?” Vaerina let out a condescending laugh. “Who is he to you? Your lover?”

Her smile vanished, eyes like shards of ice. “I had a lover once. The Labyrinth swallowed him whole. Now I’ll see its maker pay.”

She took a deep breath and calmed herself before holding up a red gemstone, hexagonal and pulsating. “This time we’ll take a different approach.”

Vaerina placed the gem at the base of Alina’s throat, between her collarbones.

“What are you doing!?” she struggled against her restraints. “Stop it!”

She held up the Verdant Sceptre toward Alina. The orb at the sceptre’s tip glowed and pulsed in sync with the gem.

Alina felt the heat radiate from the gem as it sank into her body.

“What did you do to me?” Alina demanded.

“All in due time, Princess.” Vaerina’s tone was cold as usual.

The door screeched open. Alina jerked her head up—and froze.

Rovan stepped through, dragging someone with him. His hands were shackled behind his back, shoulders slumped, bruises dark on pale skin.

“Renji…” The word tore from her throat, fragile and broken.

Her heart ached like she had been stabbed.

He staggered as Rovan hauled the chain. His head finally lifted, eyes finding hers. For a heartbeat, time stopped. He was alive—yet defeated.

Alina’s chest clenched. No… not him too.

Vaerina rose smoothly from her seat, eyes narrowing. “Well, this is unexpected.”

“He walked up to the mansion, surrendering himself.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Surrendered?”

“He came to exchange himself for Alina.”

Vaerina laughed, devoid of warmth. “How naïve.”

Renji stared at Rovan. “We had a deal. I’ll serve Vaerina if you let Alina go.”

“I lied,” Rovan said flatly.

“Bastard!” Renji snarled.

Rovan’s expression was stone. He yanked the chain tighter, making Renji stumble to his knees. “The girl won’t bend. Threaten to take a limb off, and she’ll break.”

Alina’s restraints rattled as she lurched forward. “Stop! Don’t hurt him!”

Vaerina’s lips curved into a sharp smile. “So. Even the Ice Princess has a weakness.” She circled Renji slowly, studying him like a hunter appraising a fresh kill. “The Golden Flash, gift-wrapped at my feet. I hadn’t expected this.”

Renji held her gaze, silent, unflinching. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

“Say the word,” Rovan offered, voice low, steady.

Alina’s heart broke at the sound. The man who had raised her, threatening the only person she… Her throat closed, the words refusing to form.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t.”

Vaerina laughed softly. “Ah, exquisite. Look at the fear in her eyes. You’ve outdone yourself, Rovan.”

Alina could only stare at Renji, tears welling. He was here, alive. But shackled. And in this moment, more unreachable than ever.

A blade of ice formed in Rovan’s hand, jagged and glinting in the torchlight.

He rested it on Renji’s elbow, his expression unreadable. “Let’s take his sword arm.”

Alina screamed, chains rattling as she thrashed against them. “No! Don’t hurt him!”

Vaerina’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Good. Break him. Break her.”