No! I don't want to be a Super Necromancer!

But when dawn crept quietly over the horizon, the fire in her eyes cooled. She rose gracefully, her expression sharp, focused, and unreadable. Whatever lighthearted banter they had shared in the night had passed with the stars.

Now, she was all business.

Lyrisa led Damien through winding tunnels beneath the volcanic sanctuary, their steps silent, footsteps echoing softly against walls carved by magic long forgotten.

Gradually, the air cooled and took on a damp chill, carrying with it the faint scent of fresh water. Soon, a luminous subterranean lake appeared, shimmering with an otherworldly glow beneath bioluminescent moss hanging from stalactites above.

Already gathered around the lake were several distinct groups of drow, their skin shimmering under the eerie luminescence. Their clothing and weaponry indicated a variety of allegiances, each clearly distinct yet sharing a tense, wary camaraderie born from common purpose.

Damien's arrival alongside Lyrisa instantly drew the attention of the gathered drow, their gazes sharp and calculating.

From among the groups, a young male drow confidently approached them, trailed closely by three hooded followers whose shadowed faces hinted at quiet menace.

The male's posture was arrogant, his features sharp and striking, marked by the entitled smirk of one accustomed to privilege and success. His deep violet eyes, however, softened considerably when they fell upon Lyrisa, his smile curling with allure and a subtle gleam of possessive intent.

"Ah, the enchanting Lyrisa," he greeted smoothly, his voice like warm silk soaked in practiced charm. "I had hoped you might grace us with your presence."

Lyrisa smiled with polite indifference, her expression composed, cool, and utterly unreadable. "Greetings, Vathrian," she replied lightly. "Still clinging to that same wardrobe, I see."

Vathrian chuckled, unbothered. "Some of us dress to remind others who we are."

"And others dress to move without being noticed," she replied. "One tends to live longer."

His grin widened. "Touché."

He stepped closer, gaze drifting slowly over her form with shameless appreciation. "You haven't changed. Still dangerous. Still beautiful. Still… unattached."

She raised a single elegant brow. "You assume too much."

"Only because I remember what we shared," he said smoothly, reaching to brush a strand of her white hair back over her shoulder. "Back then, you were more open-minded. Less... guarded."

She didn't flinch, but her eyes hardened ever so slightly. "That was before I knew you better."

"Harsh." He stepped back, feigning a wound over his heart. "You wound me, Lyrisa."

She gave him a sidelong look. "You'll live. Unfortunately."

He laughed, his hooded followers exchanging subtle glances.

"These are dangerous grounds," he said, shifting tone. "Ancient power lies buried here. It's no place for wandering romantics or half-baked solo missions. It's only prudent to come prepared. Surely you understand?"

"I do." she said with a soft smile. "That's why I didn't come alone."

He glanced around with dramatic emphasis, arms outstretched. "And yet, I see no familiar banners. No House crests. No sect loyalists. No guards. Just you."

"Oh they are here. Don't you worry about me. And I have my protector right here." Lyrisa tilted her head slightly towards Damien.

Vathrian's eyes landed on Damien then, and his smile dimmed slightly. He gave the human a long, appraising stare. "A pet? Or a project?"

Damien didn't blink. "A problem, if you're not careful."

Lyrisa gave a short laugh, and Vathrian's jaw tightened.

"Charming," Vathrian said. "Tell me, outsider, do you know where you stand? Do you understand what lies beneath this lake? What this inheritance is?"

"I've heard a few stories," Damien said. "Something about a powerful person. Big scary reputation. Lots of dramatic punctuation."

Vathrian's eyes narrowed. "You're a clown who knows nothing. The inheritance challenges will not suffer clowns. Lyrisa, you would risk your whole future by insisting you take the trials with a clown instead of me?!"

Lyrisa shifted slightly, the faintest movement of possessiveness. "Be careful, Vathrian. You're close to sounding like a patriarch."

"I only want what's best for our kind," he said smoothly. "Which is why I'm offering you a place in my group. Join us, Lyrisa. We have the numbers, the knowledge, the blood. Together, we could unlock JerAxle's legacy and—"

"Split it how?" she interrupted.

He blinked.

"The legacy," she continued. "Who gets what?"

He hesitated. "We'd negotiate."

"You mean, you'd take the lion's share and leave crumbs for the rest."

"That's not fair," he said with forced calm.

"No, it's just true."

His charming façade cracked for a brief second. "We have history, Lyrisa."

"We do." she agreed. "Which is why I know better than to trust you now."

His gaze darkened. "You'd really throw away power like this... for him?"

With a soft smile and utter confidence, she reached out and looped her arm through Damien's. Her body leaned easily into his, their closeness natural and without hesitation.

"I've already chosen my partner." she said.

Damien felt the air grow colder. Vathrian's eyes moved to him again, no longer appraising, but calculating and venomous.

"You brought a human." he said flatly.

"Stronger than you think." Damien replied.

Vathrian stepped forward. "You're a fool if you think you can survive the trials below. That lake hides more than bones. You'll be drowned by things you can't even name."

"Then I'll die with flair," Damien said dryly.

The nearest of Vathrian's followers shifted ever so slightly, tension crackling in the air.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Damien said quietly. "If you draw on me now, one of you dies before the spell is even halfway finished."

"You threaten me?" Vathrian said, voice sharp.

"No," Damien said, smiling faintly. "I just make predictions."

Vathrian sneered. "Enjoy your final moments then."

Lyrisa stepped between them slightly. "Leave, Vathrian. You're boring me."

He hesitated, eyes hard. Then he turned sharply, cloak flaring behind him.

As he walked away, one of his followers looked back, lingering longer than the others. A thin smile curled beneath the hood before he vanished into the gathering shadows.

Damien watched them go. "He's going to send someone after me. You know that, right?"