The air in the camp crackled with a tension thicker than the forest gloom. It was a standoff between two forces of nature, a vortex of incandescent rage and beautiful madness, and I was standing in the epicenter. Flames licked at Erica's fingertips while Lana's staff hummed with a barely restrained, violent energy.
I stepped between them, a physical barrier against their impending duel. The heat from Erica's power washed over my left side, while a chilling, chaotic aura emanated from Lana on my right.
"Release this killing intent," I said, my voice low and dangerously calm. I looked directly at Lana. "I took you into this team to increase our probability of survival, and this is what you show me? An immediate attempt to fracture it?"
"Dante, you and I can easily survive without them," she purred, her amethyst eyes locking onto mine, completely dismissing Erica. "We're the only ones who truly matter."
I stopped her with a single, sharp glare before turning to my other problem. "Erica," I said, my tone laced with a cold disappointment that I knew would wound her more than any physical blow. "What were you doing? Do you have any idea how much thought I put into our strategy? I made a proper team composition, balancing our strengths and weaknesses for the dangerous tasks ahead. And here you are, ready to destroy all of it over a petty squabble. Is your personal jealousy more important than the survival of this entire group?"
The fire at her fingertips sputtered and died. Her head dropped, her face a mask of shame. "No," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
Lana, seeing Erica chastised, opened her mouth to gloat, but I silenced her with a look. They were both silent now, two powerful weapons temporarily sheathed.
"That's settled, then," I said, my voice leaving no room for argument. "We don't have time for this childishness. Lana, you will behave and work with the team. Masha," I called out, "keep her in check. I'm holding you responsible for her."
Masha, watching from a safe distance, gave a weary, reluctant nod.
But Lana was not so easily controlled. "The hell with the team!" she snapped, her playful demeanor gone, replaced by a raw, desperate intensity. "I'm not done. I am not leaving your side, Dante, and that's final." She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "This place is dangerous. Every step we take is like walking closer to a dead end. I need to protect you. From all threats. Whether they're outside," she paused, her wild eyes sweeping over the rest of my team, "or inside."
"You are naive, Dante," she insisted, her voice softening, her eyes suddenly welling up with glistening, theatrical tears. "You still think they're your friends. You don't see the whispers, the looks they give you when they think you're not watching. They fear you. And fear breeds betrayal. Let me stay with you. Let me be your shield, your sword. Please."
I let out a short, sharp sigh of pure annoyance. "Tsssh." It was a masterful performance. The tears, the plea, the feigned concern—all of it was a carefully constructed manipulation to get what she wanted. But arguing with her was like arguing with a hurricane. It was a waste of energy.
"I don't think you'll change your mind," I said, my voice flat with resignation. I turned to the rest of the tense, silent group. "Fine. We're swapping one teammate. Jin, you join Eric's team."
"Hell no!" Erica exploded, her shame forgotten, replaced by a new wave of fury. "I'm not—"
Before she could finish her tantrum, I cut her off. "Fine," I snapped, my patience finally wearing thin. "One more teammate is swapping. Kael, you join Eric's team as well. Now it is complete." I fixed them all with a glare that dared them to argue further. "We move on to our objectives. Now."
The finality in my tone was absolute. The argument was over.
The parting was a tense, awkward affair. Eric, now leading a team of five, gave me a solemn nod. His group consisted of himself, the unshakeable shield; Masha, the cold and calculating Cryomancer; Rina, our vital, gentle healer; Jin, our most disciplined swordsman; and Kael, our new, versatile Mimic. They were a balanced, powerful force. They would succeed.
My team, however, was a collection of volatile, powerful, and emotionally compromised assets. And as we turned to head in the opposite direction, toward our own set of artifacts, the problems began immediately.
Lana, her victory secured, wasted no time. She skipped to my side, her previous tearful plea completely forgotten, and wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, pressing herself against my back. "See?" she whispered in my ear. "This is much better."
I knew something was off. The air grew ten degrees hotter. I glanced over my shoulder. Erica was walking a few feet away, her fists clenched so tight her knuckles were white. She was biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, her eyes shooting daggers of pure hatred at Lana's back.
What the hell, I thought, a wave of profound irritation washing over me. Why does it always happen to me? Two yanderas. And the two most powerful ones, at that.
From behind me, I heard a soft, stifled laugh. I turned to see Talia watching the drama unfold, a look of pure, unadulterated amusement on her face. She caught my eye and gave me a subtle, mocking wink.
Erica didn't say anything more. She never did. That was her personality. She was too shy, too insecure to voice her possessiveness directly. She would just let it fester, let it build into a simmering rage that would eventually explode. Lana, on the other hand, had no such inhibitions. She was a creature of pure impulse. This was going to be a long, exhausting week.
But my team was ready. My new, chaotic, and incredibly powerful team. I had myself, the Necromancer King. I had Lana, the Weapon Master, a beautiful agent of chaos. I had Erica, the Valkyrie of Flame, whose power was directly tied to her emotional instability. I had Talia, the Blade Dancer with the Kinetic Eye, our precise and deadly assassin. And I had Edgar, the loyal Appraiser.
And, of course, I had my true team. My six loyal, silent summons, ready to be called upon at a moment's notice.
My gaze unfocused as I mentally reviewed my arsenal. First, the Orc Champion, my new frontline Juggernaut, a puppet of immense physical strength and durability. Then, the ghost of Derek, the Crimson Juggernaut, whose Spectral Strike and Aura of Dread made him a terrifying shock trooper. Beside him in my mind stood the Guardian, the shadow of the Wardcrafter, whose Phantom Ward was my absolute defense. Then the Deceiver, the ghost of the Phantasmist, my key to sowing chaos with its Ghostly Images. And finally, the Corruptor, the echo of the Toximancy user, whose Miasma of Decay could rot our enemies from the inside out. I had one empty slot left. A canvas waiting for a new masterpiece.
My eyes drifted to the man walking just behind me. Edgar.
Yes, I had taken him on my team on purpose. And I had refused to swap him, no matter what. Because , Edgar was the one who would give me the power I craved. He was going to be my sacrifice.
The thought was as natural to me as breathing. He was perfect for it. He was loyal, trusting, and completely unsuspecting. For weeks, I had been feeding him, allowing him to absorb mana cores, strengthening him. I had treated him like a loyal puppy, and he had responded with unwavering devotion. He thought I was investing in him as a teammate. The fool. I was just fattening the calf for the slaughter. All that mana, all that potential I had "given" him… I was simply going to take it back. With interest.
The plan was already forming in my mind. I just needed to separate Talia from him. Her Kinetic Eye was too sharp; she would see the betrayal in my muscles before I even moved. But that would be easy enough to arrange. As for Lana and Erica… they were dumb when it comes to me. Their jealousy and obsession made them blind. I could use their rivalry, send them on a fool's errand, and they would trample over each other for the chance to please me.
My path was clear. Today, we would hunt for artifacts. And along the way, I would find the perfect, quiet moment to stab my loyal teammate in the back, absorb his soul, and see if the core of a fellow "hero" would be enough to finally break my limits and grant me a seventh summon.