Cassian was stuttering.
“I… it’s… I found…”
The words refused to come out properly.
“Outside. On the ground. The outfit. Outside.”
“I just… found it.”
Nolan nodded slowly, his face adopting a reassuring expression.
“I understand. Of course.”
He doesn’t believe me.
Not even a little.
I can see it in his eyes.
Nolan was actually completely convinced he had arrived just before she could put it on.
I should have come ten minutes later, he thought with deep regret. Ten tiny minutes and…
He looked at Cassian.
Then mentally pictured her.
In the maid outfit.
With the headpiece. The white gloves. The apron. Yes, Master ?.
His face turned slightly red.
Focus, Nolan. Stop.
Cassian noticed his distant gaze.
Her expression shifted from adorable embarrassment—slightly flushed cheeks, evasive eyes—to something far more serious.
Cold.
Dangerous.
“Get out.”
Nolan blinked, snapping out of his daydream.
“What?”
“Get out. Now.”
He looked around, confused.
“But… this is my house?”
“He’s here.”
Cassian’s tone was icy now. Completely different.
A shiver ran down Nolan’s spine.
“The… the thing that’s chasing you?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Cassian didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes were fixed on something beyond the walls, as if she could see straight through them.
“Approaching. Fast.”
She turned to him, her piercing blue gaze locking on.
“Leave. As far from this house as possible.”
Nolan hesitated.
I should help. I can’t just leave her…
I could at least…
Cassian noticed the hesitation.
Her eyes narrowed.
“If you stay,” she said coldly, each word cutting like glass, “you’ll only get in my way.”
Nolan opened his mouth to protest.
“You’re weak,” she continued, emotionless. “You’ll die in seconds.”
The words hit like slaps.
Nolan clenched his fists.
But he knew she was right.
He had seen what she could do. The rain that never touched her. The ice she seemed to control.
Him? He had a knife and good intentions.
“Okay,” he said finally. “I… I’m leaving.”
He headed for the door.
Paused for a second.
“Be careful.”
Cassian didn’t reply.
He stepped out into the still-damp street and ran without looking back.
---
The mosquito was approaching.
Flying low over the rooftops, its massive wings beating with that characteristic buzzing that vibrated the tiles.
It had picked up the scent fifteen minutes earlier.
What it didn’t know was that it had been detected the instant it crossed the two-hundred-meter perimeter around Cassian.
She had sensed it immediately.
It saw Nolan rush out of the house and disappear down a side alley.
The mosquito paused, hovering above the roof.
Cassian’s scent was strongest here. By far. Across the entire city.
Intoxicating. Irresistible.
Four orbs of blood floated around it—mobile reserves it had taken from adventurers in the abandoned building, compressed by sheer instinctual will, kept suspended.
For healing if needed.
It descended slowly toward the roof, front legs extended.
WHOOSH.
A massive column of water slammed down instantly.
Huge. Violent. Coming from nowhere—as if the entire sky had condensed into a single liquid pillar.
The mosquito was forced downward with crushing force, completely unable to resist.
WHAT?!
CRASH.
It tore through the roof like wet paper—tiles exploding, beams snapping.
It crashed into the house’s floor in a burst of debris, shattered wood, and dust.
Four ice spears—each as long as its entire body, thick as tree trunks—materialized instantly above it.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Formed in a fraction of a second.
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
They slammed down with surgical precision, pinning it to the ground like an insect in an entomologist’s collection.
Each one pierced its limbs, its thorax, completely immobilizing it.
The water column vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
Revealing Cassian.
Standing right beside it.
Arms crossed.
Expression cold, calculating.
Not a trace of fear.
“You’ve changed a lot,” she said calmly, almost conversationally.
The mosquito tried to move. The spears held it firmly, its chitin cracking under the pressure.
Cassian crouched slowly, her blue eyes locking onto the monster’s many compound eyes.
“Do you know why I kept losing the last few times?”
Silence. Just the sound of rain outside.
“Because I was holding back.”
She tilted her head, a strand of blond hair falling across her face.
“I wanted to preserve my mana. Always keep a backup reserve. Just in case. For emergencies. So I’d never run dry.”
A cold, humorless laugh.
“That strategy never got me anywhere. Except nearly dying drained of blood, night after night.”
She tapped one of the spears embedded in the mosquito’s thorax.
TINK. TINK.
“Look at me.”
The mosquito tried to look away with its compound eyes.
“LOOK AT ME.”
It obeyed, its antennae trembling.
“Because of you, I became this weakened. My skin turned gray. I can barely stand most days.”
Her fingers tightened on the spear.
“I won’t make that mistake again.”
She stood slowly, her shadow stretching over the mosquito’s body.
“I’m going to give everything. Throw it all at you to make you pay for every single drop of blood you stole.”
A terrifying smile spread across her lips.
“After all, my mana pool is pretty decent now.”
She raised one hand.
“Thanks to the dungeon.”
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
The mosquito exploded into motion.
Its front legs tore the ice spears out like glass.
Its body’s chitin cracked, but it forced through, using every ounce of power.
The spears shattered into glittering fragments.
It shot upward instantly, flying out of the house through the gaping hole it had made when falling.
Cassian watched it go, unmoving.
Fast. But expected.
The mosquito climbed high into the rainy sky.
One of the four blood orbs floating around it drew closer.
It absorbed it mid-flight.
The red liquid sank into its cracked chitin.
Its wounds closed instantly—the carapace reforming, fissures vanishing.
I see.
Cassian smiled.
Mobile healing reserves.
Smart for a monster.
But completely useless.
The mosquito circled the house at high speed—a tight loop, almost a blur—searching for an opening, an attack angle.
Then suddenly dove straight toward the interior.
Directly at Cassian.
WHOOSH.
An ice whip lashed out from an unexpected angle—sideways, from the floor, snaking like a living creature.
The whip was made of multiple articulated segments, each slicing like a blade, granting it terrifying freedom of movement.
SLASH.
It wrapped around one of the mosquito’s hind legs and severed it cleanly in one fluid motion.
The limb spun away through the air.
The mosquito lost all balance, its flight turning erratic, chaotic.
Shocked.
It had never seen that.
Usually she just threw straight-line spears.
Predictable. Dodgeable.
But now…
Now she had learned.
The mosquito made an instant decision.
Flee.
It shot straight up. Very high. Above the buildings. Above the city.
Needed space. Time to think. New tactic required.
Cassian immediately gave chase.
Running through the air—each step creating a platform that solidified just long enough to bear her weight before vanishing.
But the mosquito was faster in straight vertical flight.
Much faster.
It pulled ahead.
It glanced down, seeing Cassian gradually falling behind.
Suddenly ice spears rained from every direction.
Too many to count.
From the left. From the right. From above—how was that even possible? Diagonally. Some even from below, rising up.
WHOOSH. WHOOSH. WHOOSH. WHOOSH.
The mosquito dodged frantically—darting through the air in jerky bursts, pivoting, using every bit of developed agility.
At the same time, survival instinct made it try to consume another blood orb.
The red orb approached its body.
Then… lost its spherical shape.
As if something destabilized it from within.
SPLASH.
It burst into droplets that immediately fell, mixing with the surrounding rain.
WHAT?!
HOW?!
It looked at the remaining orbs in alarm.
SPLASH. SPLASH.
All of them burst simultaneously, their contents scattering into the wind and rain.
IMPOSSIBLE!
I CONTROLLED THEM!
It looked down desperately.
Cassian was catching up.
Shocked.
She was literally swimming through the rain itself—her body gliding at high speed through the air as though the water formed an invisible current propelling her, arms streamlined along her body like a fish.
Water manipulation.
The realization hit.
Blood is mostly water.
She had taken control of the orbs.
Rendered his reserves completely useless.
Something cold touched its left wing.
The mosquito looked with its many compound eyes.
Ice.
Forming slowly but inexorably. Spreading across the thin, fragile membrane like frost.
Wet. I’m completely soaked from the rain.
She’s using that.
Every drop is a weapon.
Its flight grew harder, less coordinated. The spears kept raining from all directions, forcing constant adjustments.
Must get out of the rain. Immediately. Or I’ll freeze mid-flight.
It feinted a charge at Cassian—diving rapidly as though for a desperate attack.
Then violently pivoted at the last second, fleeing downward at full speed toward the buildings that could offer cover.
An ice whip appeared instantly in its field of view.
Made of dozens of articulated segments—granting a nightmarish, unpredictable range of motion.
Slicing like razor blades.
It wrapped around one of its remaining front legs with horrifying speed.
SLASH.
Severed cleanly, the leg spiraling away.
Too fast. No time to see it coming. No time to understand the trajectory.
During that brief moment of shock and pain…
THUNK.
A massive spear pierced clean through its thorax.
EXCRUCIATING PAIN.
It snapped out of its daze, survival instinct taking over.
It dove toward the city below. Still pursued by Cassian, who swam through the rain like an aquatic predator.
It smashed violently into the first building it found.
A man was showering in a small tiled bathroom.
Naked. Soapy. Singing off-key to a pop song.
The mosquito crashed through the outer wall.
CRASH.
Bricks exploded. The man screamed in a high-pitched voice.
“WHAT THE… ?!”
Three ice whips erupted instantly from the adjacent walls—passing through stone and plaster like water, materialized directly from the rain that saturated everything.
WHOOSH. WHOOSH. WHOOSH.
The mosquito desperately dodged two whips.
The third slammed into its back with a thunderous crack.
CRACK.
The chitin split deeply, nearly reaching the base of its remaining wings.
The man kept screaming, slipping in his soapy shower, falling hard on his backside, eyes wide with terror.
The mosquito rushed back out through the hole it had made.
Now flying low to the ground. Between tight buildings. Through narrow, dark alleys.
Need blood. Lots of blood.
To regenerate. To be intoxicated by the scent.
Cassian was swimming just above him in the rain—arms along her body, perfectly streamlined, gliding through the wet air like a shark following a blood trail.
Behind the mosquito, several spears kept stabbing into the paved ground.
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
Missing by mere centimeters each time, creating a field of jagged ice.
A spear suddenly fell right in front of it, blocking its path.
It veered violently, making a ninety-degree turn.
Crashed into a residential building through a ground-floor window.
CRASH.
Two seconds inside. Screams. Shouts.
Burst back out through the front door.
Several corpses left behind. Fresh blood flowed freely.
It did the same to another building—an still-open tavern.
CRASH.
Patrons screamed. Some died instantly.
Then another—a family home.
CRASH.
Blood now ran in the paved streets. Mixing with the rain. Tinting the water a diluted red.
The mosquito had no time to actually drink and regenerate—Cassian was too close, too fast.
But the scent…
Intoxicating. Strengthening.
It grew faster despite its wounds. Stronger. More aggressive.
It crashed into another building—an warehouse this time.
Cassian immediately tried to trap it inside.
Massive ice walls erupted from every side—sealing every exit, window, and door instantly.
The mosquito found itself trapped in darkness.
Panicked.
It destroyed them with desperate force.
CRASH. CRASH. CRASH.
Front legs struck, wings beat furiously.
But the broken ice fragments…
Instead of simply falling…
Transformed mid-air.
A complex three-dimensional geometric ice cage formed instantly around the mosquito, using the fragments as raw material.
TRAPPED. COMPLETELY TRAPPED.
It tried to break the cage.
Before it could…
THUMP.
Cassian landed directly on its back from above.
The weight made her sway slightly, but she stabilized instantly.
She drove a thick ice spear straight into its central thorax.
STAB.
Deep. Clean through.
The mosquito convulsed violently.
Then Cassian grabbed the bases of its two remaining wings with both hands.
Pulled.
With all her strength.
RIIIIP.
A horrible sound of organic tissue tearing.
The wings were completely ripped off, leaving gaping wounds on the mosquito’s back.
It fell.
Toward a wide stone staircase in the main street.
The ice structure dissolved, releasing it for the fall.
CRASH.
The mosquito slammed hard into the steps, bouncing several times before coming to rest halfway down.
Ice whips appeared instantly.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
They lashed from different angles—from the ground, from adjacent walls, from the rain itself.
They wrapped around the vulnerable mosquito’s body like snakes.
Around its remaining legs. Its cracked thorax. Its swollen abdomen.
Tightened with merciless force.
Then…
SLASH. SLASH. SLASH. SLASH. SLASH.
The razor-sharp segments of the whips began to move.
Cutting. Tearing. Sectioning.
The mosquito was methodically dismembered into several pieces that fell onto the steps with wet, soft thuds.
The head. The thorax in three parts. The burst abdomen. Scattered legs.
The mosquito stopped moving completely.
Black liquid—its blood—flowed between the stones of the steps.
Cassian landed gracefully on the staircase, a few steps above the remains.
She looked down at the scattered pieces with satisfaction.
“That was too easy,” she said with a mocking smile that stretched her lips. “No challenge at all. Really. Pathetic.”
She burst into laughter—clear, almost joyful, liberated.
She placed her hands over her mouth like a teenage girl who just heard juicy gossip.
“You seriously thought my blood was an open bar?”
She laughed again, louder.
“Come whenever you want? Help yourself? No consequences?”
She leaned slightly toward the pieces, eyes gleaming with victory.
“Idiot. You were just a bug after all.”
She gave a small kick to a piece of chitin.
“A bug that thought it could kill me.”
The rain was slowly easing now.
The clouds began to part. Rays of light broke through here and there.
Cassian took a deep breath, savoring the damp air.
It’s over.
Finally.
I can sleep without fear.
“I didn’t expect the monster to be defeated right after taking the quest at the guild.”
Cassian froze completely.
She turned slowly.
A man was climbing the stairs from below, his steps echoing on the wet stone.
Golden-blond mid-length hair, shining even under the gray light. A perfectly placed strand falling elegantly across his forehead.
Sky-blue eyes. A finely symmetrical face—defined jaw, high cheekbones, straight nose.
Tall—probably 185 cm or more.
White light-to-medium armor that glowed faintly. A blood-red cape billowing dramatically behind him in the breeze.
A long sword at his belt in an ornate sheath. Engraved steel breastplate. Stylized pointed shoulder guards. Silver gauntlets with embossed patterns.
He’s… really beautiful.
Like he stepped out of a painting.
Or a fantasy novel cover.
“You’re strong.”
The word echoed in Cassian’s mind.
Something warmed in her chest.
A second person approached behind the man, ascending the steps with grace.
Just as beautiful. Perhaps more.
Golden-blond hair—long, flowing, wavy, cascading perfectly to mid-back. A carefully placed strand falling elegantly along the side of her face.
Crystal-clear blue eyes. A delicate oval face with perfectly symmetrical, sculpted features.
A generous bust tastefully emphasized by her fitted outfit. A tiny waist. Marked hips forming an hourglass silhouette.
White-and-gold light armor-robe that hugged her curves. A long white cape trailing slightly on the steps. A slender, elegant sword at her waist—probably a rapier.
A soft, angelic smile that lit up her face.
They both look like main characters from a novel.
The kind of beauty that doesn’t exist in real life.
The man stopped a few steps below Cassian, his smile widening.
He had palpable charisma—the kind of presence that naturally drew attention.
“My name is Constantine.”
His voice was deep, warm, pleasant to the ear.
He gestured gracefully toward the woman behind him.
“And this is Charlotte.”
Charlotte gave a small, friendly finger-wiggle wave, smiling warmly as though they were already friends.
“Nice to meet you,” Cassian said automatically, still slightly stunned by their appearance. “Cassian.”
“Cassian,” Constantine repeated, as though tasting the name, rolling it on his tongue. “Beautiful. Unique. It suits you.”
He took another step forward, closing the distance.
His blue eyes locked directly onto Cassian with an intensity that made her uncomfortable.
“Do you have a party?”
Cassian blinked, confused.
“An adventurer party.” His smile became almost dazzling. “I’d really like you to join us. Your magic is… impressive. Remarkable, even.”
He gestured toward the mosquito’s remains.
“You’re exactly the kind of person we’re looking for in our team.”
Cassian opened her mouth to answer.
Before any sound could come out…
Two firm hands suddenly grabbed her by the hips.
Yanked her sharply backward.
Against a familiar, solid chest.
Arms wrapped possessively around her waist.
“She’s already taken.”
Hiro’s voice.
Deep. Possessive. Unambiguous.
Cassian froze completely, every muscle in her body tensing.
What?
WHAT?!
WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING?!
The rain stopped completely at that exact moment.
The clouds parted dramatically.
Sunlight broke through—a perfect golden ray, like a theater spotlight, illuminating Hiro standing at the top of the stairs.
Holding Cassian firmly against him.
His black hair gleamed in the golden light, almost creating a halo.
His smile was… territorial.
His eyes fixed on Constantine with a clear message: Back off.
Constantine raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.
Cassian was too shocked. Her brain had completely shut down.
He… he just… what?
His hands are on my hips.
HIS HANDS ARE ON MY HIPS.
WHY ARE HIS HANDS ON MY HIPS?!
The sun kept shining, bathing the scene like a romantic painting.
Hiro tightened his grip slightly, as though marking his territory in front of a potential rival.
