Chapter 569: A Suicide Mission

Renard's eyes were a solid, intense blue, the color of a precious stone cut with perfect edges—sharp, clear, and almost hard, as though light itself had been fractured into cold facets that reflected nothing but their own brilliance.

Seraphina's were different: a deeper, softer blue that felt like looking down at the open sea from a great height, layered with shifting currents and quiet depth, infinite and mysterious.

In that moment both pairs of blue reflected the glow of the magma, two distinct shades of the same color locked together in silent understanding.

(Note: somewhere far away, Benjamin's own eyes—round, bright, and clear like a blue diamond dropped into water—existed in the same spectrum, though neither of them was thinking of him just then, their attention focused entirely on each other and the weight of their conversation.)

"And you could be horribly wrong, perhaps your optimism is misplaced and your logic flawed," she continued, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of genuine concern. "If you are right, we live in harmony, the world continues as it has, peaceful and stable. If you are wrong... the world may not survive the next Celestial War. Tëhznarā now is worlds apart from Tëhznarā then, in terms of magic, strength, and competence. I honestly doubt I and her father can win again like before, that we could replicate our victory against a foe so much more powerful than she was then. So…"

She opened her mouth, her jaw widening with an ease that spoke of ancient biology.

Her tongue lengthened and split into a long, serpentine fork, the two tips glistening with moisture in the heat of the cavern.

The forked tongue slid out and dragged slowly across Renard's cheek, leaving a warm, wet trail that steamed against his skin, the moisture evaporating almost instantly in the intense heat.

The motion was deliberate and intimate, the flexible length of it curling slightly before she drew it back, tasting the air between them.

At the same time she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body fully against his in the molten heat, her form molding against his in the embrace of the lava.

"Help me anchor my dear niece and give her something to hold onto," she asked, her voice almost shaky now, a tremor of vulnerability breaking through her usual composure. "You know me more than anyone, and you know she's my world, the center of my existence and the source of my greatest worry. I don't want her to be unhappy, to wander through eternity without purpose or connection. She is this way because she doesn't have a real anchor, something to tether her and give her meaning."

"So… we will have to find what it is she truly wants, the desire that drives her, then make sure that it's provided?" Renard asked, his voice sounding with a note of understanding.

"Yes… We can track it down to her birth, to the moment she first came into existence," Seraphina replied, her voice steadying with purpose. "She was a very eccentric and sadistic dragon, very cruel and capricious. Nonetheless, I believe if it's you, with your insight and cunning, you can find her anchor and discover what she truly needs."

"...If that will allow you get back to normal, it's a deal." Renard lifted one hand and patted her head softly, fingers moving through the damp pale-blonde strands gently. "I already have a plan in mind, a scheme that might just work. If she's not hostile, it means she's somewhat approachable. Leave it to me!"

Seraphina's professional mask cracked for a moment, the composed facade slipping to reveal something more vulnerable beneath.

A small blush rose beneath one eye, a faint warmth spreading across her cheek, though her expression remained mostly controlled and slightly emotional, a hint of gratitude softening her features.

"Goodness... I am a dragon goddess. You simply cannot touch my head in such a demeaning fashion, as if I were a child or a pet."

"Right, right! As if you don't enjoy it when I do that, you big baby," Renard teased her as she huddled closer.

When Renard says he will do a thing, he mostly succeeds. Seraphina had put all her faith in him for this task...

Meanwhile, inside Renard's mind the real calculations continued without pause, his thoughts racing with schemes and strategies.

[Okay, I can't deal with that murderous brat, that volatile and unpredictable dragon. She's crazy and too dangerous to approach directly. The real plan is, how do I precisely shift the suicidal job of taming Tëhznarā to Benjamin Mark, the one person who seems incapable of understanding the meaning of caution? He appears to like riding into danger and annoying the life out of me, so why don't I give him real stakes for once, consequences that might actually make him think before acting?

[I'll hold off Euclid and his hungry organization with this plan, buy time and space with the promise of action. If someone can appease Tëhznarā, the Old Testaments won't attack them, so this will hold their forces at bay. And if the Old Testaments get their hands off Benjamin's case for now, he can handle the New Testaments on his own. He's strong, after all.

[It certainly is a pleasant surprise to see they have not yet started making moves on his life. Euclid sure is a great help, since even as the leader, it's difficult holding those monsters at bay. Old Testaments are a complete red flag—they will even devastate me before I slaughter them. However, I fought Benjamin in the Higher Realm—he's irresponsible, but his abilities are the real deal. How he ended up with Namadris' abilities is beyond me. He even had some of the primordial god-touched abilities as well. There was the supply of magic that resembled {Magic Nexus}, though I might be wrong. Anyway, if it's the New Testaments, he can take care of himself for now]

Having to run multiple plots, schemes, and strategies at the same time pressed down on him like physical weight, the burden of leadership and manipulation heavy on his shoulders.

Renard sank deeper into the magma, letting the liquid close over his shoulders and then his chin, the heat enveloping him completely.

The molten rock glowed brighter around his submerged form, casting sharp orange light upward across the hard line of his furrowed brows and the tight set of his mouth.

Meanwhile, Benjamin was facing his first ever assassination attack in Thaad!