The air inside Crow's towering sky fortress was oddly silent, save for the soft hum of the arcane engines beneath its floors. The moment Sasha, the Divine Rank swordmaster, stepped through the great hall's doors, her keen gaze narrowed.
She had seen the stream. She had heard the whispers. Rose on Crow's lap. Lyravex clinging to him. All while she—the very first Divine Rank hero to swear loyalty to him—was being ignored.
Her hand rested lightly on the hilt of her sword, though not out of hostility—rather, frustration.
She approached with calm, sharp steps. "Master," she said, her tone polite but tight. "Is your blade not worth your attention anymore?"
Crow blinked, glancing up from the enchanted map he was studying. "Sasha?"
Her arms crossed beneath her chest. "You've been distracted. By… affection. From others."
Rose and Lyravex watched warily from the nearby couch, where they had been nestled far too closely to Crow. Sasha's aura flared—silver and violet energy rippling around her, reminding them why she had once been called the Sword Saint of Ruin.
"I don't need your love, Crow," Sasha said, voice lower now. "But if you're going to keep collecting hearts, don't forget whose blade was drawn first in your name."
Crow rose slowly, walking toward her.
"I haven't forgotten," he said. "And I never will."
He placed a hand on her shoulder. Sasha looked up, just briefly—and then blushed, the flames of jealousy fading for now.
But from the shadows, a pair of glowing violet eyes watched. Sylvanna… hadn't forgotten either.