My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 1017: Dreams of the Past: The Hunting Mission (3/3)
Bheema’s jaw clenched. "You ruined everything. We were holding back from getting information on their client. Because of you three, they escaped."
Rael, landing beside Eon, raised an eyebrow. "If that’s the case, you should’ve led them to a secluded place where no one else would interfere. Blaming us for your lack of planning is weak. Do you have any personal enmity against us or something? Always trying to fight with us over unnecessary issues..." Rael was only bearing this guy because Arjuna was his friend and their eldest brother is someone likeable.
Eon scoffed at Bheema’s behavior. "I heard that your father was a former King. Does the Kuru Dynasty teach its princes such fine manners?" she asked, voice laced with anger. Then, as an afterthought, she added with a smirk on her face, "Maybe that’s why you lot were exiled."
The moment those words left her lips, the air turned heavy.
Bheema’s fists tightened at his sides. Even Arjuna’s usually calm expression darkened.
Yudhisthira let out a quiet sigh, but the frown on his face deepened.
Bheema’s glare intensified as he took a threatening step forward. "If you weren’t a girl, I would have beaten you for that disrespect."
Eon didn’t flinch.
Instead, she tilted her head and sneered. "Oh? So you think girls can’t match you because of your oversized muscles? That’s a pretty narrow-minded view." Her eyes gleamed with challenge as she tightened her grip over her mace. "Go ahead, try me. Let’s see if that big physique of yours actually has the strength to back up your words."
Bheema’s nostrils flared. His grip over his mace was also tightened.
Just as things were about to escalate, Yudhisthira finally intervened. "Enough," he said, his voice calm but firm. His gaze landed on Bheema first. "There’s no need for unnecessary fights."
Then, he turned to Rael’s team.
"I apologize for my brother’s behavior," he said, offering a polite nod once again. "We’re classmates. We shouldn’t be fighting over careless words. But," his eyes narrowed slightly, "one shouldn’t mock another’s circumstances without knowing the full story."
Rael met Yudhisthira’s gaze, his expression unreadable. "If you respond with aggression even when people try to help you," Rael said, his voice cool, "then what happens when someone truly in need is ignored because no one wants to step in?"
Arjuna, sensing the growing hostility, stepped forward. "Azrael, it wasn’t—"
Rael cut him off.
"Arjuna," he said, "I respect you and your eldest brother." His gaze flickered toward Yudhisthira. "You’re nothing like my eldest brother. That’s why I’ll put this behind me—for now." He glanced at Bheema one last time before turning back to Yudhisthira.
"But let’s make sure there’s no unnecessary aggression next time. Please keep your younger brother under control. He has the ability to turn your friends into foes."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Yudhisthira nodded. "Understood. I’m sorry again. And thanks for the help."
The tension lingered, but for now, the storm had passed. The hatchet was buried—at least, for now. Rael didn’t say another word. He turned and walked away.
Artaigne, visibly uncomfortable, cast a nervous glance between both groups before hurriedly following him.
Eon, on the other hand, snorted loudly, her eyes rolling as she pivoted on her heel and strode off after them.
As the three disappeared into the rocky terrain, Bheema crossed his arms over his broad chest and let out a scoff. "Arrogant fools," he muttered. His muscular shoulders tensed as he clenched his fists. "They’re no different from Duryodhana and his lot. Do you hear her tone, the way she speaks? What kind of parents would raise a girl in such a way?"
Arjuna, who had remained silent for the most part, finally spoke. "But Elder Brother... you started this fight."
His brother shot him an incredulous look. "You’re siding with them now?" Bheema snapped, his deep voice edged with irritation. "They ruined everything. If not for them, we could’ve found out who was behind this attack."
Arjuna let out a tired sigh. "And what’s there to find out?" he said, rubbing his forehead. "We already know who it is. There’s only one person who would pull something like this. Duryodhana and his uncle, Shakuni."
Yudhisthira, standing a few steps away, exhaled softly. "Arjuna," he said in his usual calm voice, his expression unreadable, "don’t jump to conclusions just because we have a bad relationship with them." He met his younger brother’s gaze. "In the end, they are still our family. Without proper evidence, we shouldn’t accuse anyone."
Bheema’s eyes darkened. "Evidence?" he scoffed. "The only evidence we had just ran away because of him." His fingers curled into fists. "This is all Azrael’s fault. Next time, please don’t stop me, brother."
Yudhisthira sighed again. He stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Bheema’s shoulder. "Let it go," he said.
Bheema’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t shrug off the touch.
"Forget the matter," Yudhisthira continued, his tone quiet yet firm. "Let’s just focus on our mission."
Bheema exhaled sharply through his nose, but after a moment, he nodded.
The issue wasn’t resolved—but for now, they moved on.
Meanwhile, Rael, Eon, and Artaigne continued to venture deeply toward the center of the island. The deeper they ventured, the warmer the air became.
Rael, Eon, and Artaigne descended slope after slope, the dim glow of fire crystals illuminating their path. The jagged formations jutted out from the ground and walls, flickering like molten embers trapped in stone.
Their footsteps echoed in the vast underground chamber, the sound swallowed by the overwhelming heat pressing against their skin.
After what felt like kilometers of descent—far below sea level—they finally reached the lowest point.
A massive lava pool stretched before them, radiating blistering heat. At its center lay a small island, no larger than a hundred square meters, its blackened rock rising above the molten abyss.
And at the heart of that island... it slept.
A massive beast, its form resembling a mechanical quadrupedal dragon with thick, armored plating of scorched bronze and crimson. Two massive circular structures protruded from its back, steaming with residual heat.
Its eyes snapped open.
A deep, guttural growl rumbled through the cavern as the Vulcan Lord, a rank-4 platinum-grade beast, lifted its head. Lava dripped from its fangs as it stirred from its slumber, its body steaming as the molten heat around it answered its call.
"That thing’s strong," Eon muttered, her eyes narrowing. "It’s using the lava itself as part of its power."
Rael smirked. "Perfect. Let’s go." He summoned the death scythe and brandished it like a whip.
Without hesitation, he and Artaigne dashed forward, leaping over the lava pool.
Eon stayed behind, her role set.
She raised her hand, and her hourglass floated beside her, spinning slowly. The flow of time in the cavern wavered, her power preparing to momentarily freeze the beast’s movements when necessary.
As soon as their feet landed on the island, the Vulcan Lord roared—and the lava pool erupted.
Streams of molten fire shot into the air, arching toward Rael and Artaigne in a deadly rain.
Rael spun his mutated Death Scythe, golden divine energy crackling along its edge. "Ha!" With a swift arc, he cleaved through the falling projectiles, dispersing them before they could reach him.
Artaigne, moving like a shadow, darted to the Vulcan Lord’s left, her blade flashing in rapid, precise slashes against its armored plating.
The beast bellowed, swinging a massive claw at her.
Eon moved.
With a flick of her fingers, her inborn ability activated. "Freeze."
