Each step was a fresh mountain of agony. Kael leaned heavily on the jagged piece of scorpion carapace, forcing his frostbitten leg to bear his weight. The wound, despite his internal flame's weak efforts, felt like it was full of biting shards of ice rather than healing tissue. The cold radiating from it, and from the other puncture wounds, seemed to sink bone-deep, a chilling counterpoint to the Gauntlet’s oppressive heat and the demanding throb of his own guttering Ignis.

  Ahead, Lianna Corvyn moved with an infuriating, economical grace. Her silver eyes constantly scanned the tunnel walls, the floor, the ceiling, missing nothing. Her movements were fluid and confident, barely hindered by the heat or the uneven terrain. She didn't look back, didn't offer assistance, didn't slow her pace beyond what basic caution dictated. She had offered an alliance of convenience, and Kael's struggle to keep up was clearly his inconvenience alone.

  He grit his teeth, shoving down a wave of resentment mixed with grudging admiration. She was clearly skilled, far beyond any Verdant Lotus disciple he’d known. Her control, her awareness – it spoke of rigorous training and innate talent nurtured by resources Kael couldn't even imagine. But it was her indifference that gnawed at him. She hadn't even asked his name. He was just a tool, a potential distraction she'd pragmatically kept from expiring.

  Kael reminded himself, refocusing his thoughts past the pain. He needed to learn more about her, about her sect's knowledge of this place, about what she really knew or suspected about him.

  The tunnel continued its downward path, narrower now, the walls closer, slick with condensation where lingering traces of the ice creatures' passage fought against the rock's heat. Strange, vein-like mineral deposits reappeared, glowing faintly, but there were no more of the pure Ignis crystals he desperately needed. The air felt heavy, charged, the silence punctuated only by the distant, rhythmic thudding of the Cinder Valve far behind them, and the near-silent scrape of Lianna's boots alternating with the painful shuffle and tap of Kael's makeshift crutch.

  The hunger from his flame was becoming unbearable. It wasn't just demanding; it felt like it was actively the last vestiges of warmth from his body, turning his core into a vacuum that threatened to collapse inwards. He fuel. If he couldn't find a rich source soon, the flame might turn on itself, consuming his own tissue in a desperate bid for survival – a horrific thought reinforced by the Art's self-destructive nature. Or it might simply wink out, leaving him vulnerable to the frostbite spreading through his veins.

  "These... creatures..." Kael rasped, the effort sending sparks of pain through his chest and throat. He needed information, and seeming slightly less pathetic might marginally increase his perceived utility to her. "Your sect... know of them?"

  Lianna didn't stop walking, barely glancing back over her shoulder. "The 'Cryo-Kin', as some forbidden texts tentatively label them," she replied coolly, her voice echoing slightly in the confined space. "Anomalies. Abominations. Theoretically impossible within the God-Wound's thermal matrix. Their existence here defies established principles."

  So, her knowledge wasn't common doctrine. That was interesting. And 'Cryo-Kin'... a formal name implied prior encounters, or at least theories.

  "Why... hunt them?" Kael pressed, forcing the words out between staggered breaths of hot energy.

  "Their core residue," she stated simply, tapping the pouch where she'd stored the dark crystals. "Pure cryo-essence. Paradoxically stable. Potentially invaluable for balancing fire-aspected cultivation, or forging unique artifacts. Highly dangerous to acquire, obviously." Her tone was dismissive, as if Kael couldn't possibly comprehend the value or the risk.

  Of course. Resources. Cultivators always sought resources, no matter the danger. Even paradoxical ones like stable ice in the heart of a divine inferno. Kael filed the information away. She was hunting valuable, dangerous materials. His presence was likely less about needing a distraction and more about having someone expendable to trigger any traps or draw the initial aggro of whatever guarded those resources deeper in.

  He stumbled, his bad leg giving way momentarily. He caught himself against the slick wall, suppressing a groan. His vision swam, the faint crimson light doing little to dispel the encroaching grey fog of weakness. He needed energy . His heat sense swept the surroundings desperately – ambient tunnel heat, Lianna's steady cultivator signature ahead, the chilling traces of the Cryo-Kin's passage... and something else. Faint, buried, but definitely there. A pocket of warmth, deep within the tunnel wall to his right. Not clean like the crystals, more diffuse, but present.

  Ignoring Lianna's continued forward progress, Kael deviated, limping towards the spot on the wall.

  "What are you doing?" Lianna's voice was sharp, impatient, stopping several yards ahead and turning fully towards him, disapproval clear in her silver eyes. "I said don't slow me down."

  Kael didn't answer. He pressed his hand against the section of wall, ignoring the rough, scorched texture. Yes, heat emanated from within. Not intense, but steady. He focused his will, opening the conduit, bracing himself. With the last dregs of his conscious effort, he .

  Ignoring Lianna's sharp, impatient query and disapproving gaze, Kael pressed his palm flat against the section of wall radiating faint warmth. Yes, heat pulsed sluggishly from within. Not the pure, potent river of the Ignis crystals, nor the tainted life-fire of the scorpion. This felt… geological. Deep, ancient heat trapped within the rock itself, perhaps a minor thermal vein of the God-Wound. It was diffuse, slow, like trying to draw sustenance from sun-baked stone. But it was .

  He focused his will, opening the conduit forged by the Rebirth Art, bracing himself not for an overload, but for the sheer effort required to pull energy from such a reluctant source. With the last dregs of his conscious focus, he .

  It was like trying to suck honey through a narrow straw. A thread of dense, sluggish warmth flowed into him, agonizingly slow. It wasn't the clean burn of the crystals; this energy felt thick, heavy, almost gritty, carrying the weight of stone and millennia. It offered resistance, demanding far more effort from his core to process than the purer forms he'd absorbed. But it fuel.

  He took a single, desperate "sip," drawing just enough of the stubborn warmth to push back the immediate threat of his internal flame extinguishing. The intense hunger subsided fractionally, replaced by the familiar dull ache radiating outwards from his core as the Rebirth Art grudgingly processed the low-grade geological heat. It was barely enough to keep him functional, nowhere near enough to properly combat the frostbite or heal his wounds significantly, but it was .

  He released the connection, leaning against the wall for a moment, the effort leaving him even more breathless, in his unique, energy-cycling way.

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  Lianna watched this display with narrowed silver eyes, her expression shifting from impatience to sharp curiosity tinged with disdain. "Absorbing ambient geological heat?" she remarked, her voice laced with a faint, academic sort of incredulity. "Desperate inefficient. The impurities in that strata alone would cripple the meridians of a standard cultivator, assuming they could even perceive such a low-grade source, let alone draw from it. What crude, self-harming technique you employing?"

  Her question was sharp, probing, moving past the simple observation of resilience towards the . Kael ignored the barb about meridian damage – his own were useless anyway. He met her gaze, his expression carefully blank, revealing nothing but exhaustion. "Survival," he rasped, turning away from the wall before she could scrutinize his hand or the contact point too closely. He needed to keep moving, both to follow her and to avoid further interrogation.

  He resumed his painful limp, leaning on the carapace crutch. But as he moved, a new idea sparked alongside the low-grade heat circulating within him. His hand technique was too slow, too obvious, and required stopping. But the Rebirth Art wasn't limited to his hands. It permeated his whole being, anchored in the flame within his core. What if...?

  While maintaining his shambling pace, focusing intensely, Kael tried to subtly extend the Art's consuming nature downwards, through his legs, attempting to draw energy not just from the air or specific sources, but passively, through the soles of his feet as they made contact with the heat-infused stone floor.

  The moment he tried it, agonizing feedback shot up his legs. The floor wasn't a pure source; it was rough, uneven, littered with sharp debris and impure cooled minerals alongside the latent heat. Trying to draw energy through the tough, calloused skin of his feet while walking was incredibly difficult, inefficient, and exquisitely painful. It felt like trying to absorb fire while simultaneously grinding glass into his wounds. Every step became a fresh wave of torment layered atop the existing agony of his injuries and the frostbite. The gritty, geological essence he managed to pull was minimal, barely a trickle, instantly consumed by the effort and the pain it caused.

  He almost stumbled again, biting back a cry, his face contorting involuntarily. The effort was too much, the return negligible, the pain counterproductive.

  Lianna, watching him with those unnervingly perceptive silver eyes, scoffed softly. "Pathetic," she murmured, though whether directed at his failed attempt – if she even recognised it as such – or his general wounded state, was unclear. "Try not to expire before we find something interesting. Your tenacity is amusing, but ultimately pointless if you can't maintain basic locomotion."

  She turned and continued walking, apparently deciding he wasn't worth further immediate analysis, perhaps classifying his clumsy energy absorption attempt as just another bizarre spasm of his crude survival instincts. Kael clenched his jaw, humiliation warring with the throbbing pain. The floor-absorption was a failure, at least for now, with his current lack of control and energy. He was stuck relying on finding richer sources, or Lianna's reluctant tolerance. His desperation grew, underscored by the failure and her casual contempt.

  He pushed onward, each step a carefully managed agony, trailing Lianna like a shadow clinging to a flicker of warmth. The failure to draw energy through his feet left a bitter taste alongside the ash in his mouth. He was weak, damaged, and utterly dependent on finding external fuel. The hunger from his core flame gnawed relentlessly, a constant reminder of his precarious state.

  Lianna moved ahead, occasionally pausing to examine a peculiar mineral formation or a patch of unusually virulent glowing moss. The tunnel began to change again. The scorched look intensified, with sections of the wall appearing almost vitrified, melted smooth by ancient, incredible heat. Yet paradoxically, the traces of the Cryo-Kin – faint frost patches, the subtle energy-leeching cold – also grew more frequent. Fire and ice, locked in some ancient, ongoing conflict deep within the God-Wound's corpse.

  The path started to widen gradually, opening from a tight passage into what seemed like a larger cavern ahead, though the curve of the tunnel still obscured the full view. The air here felt strangely stagnant, the usual flow of heat sluggish. Kael’s heat sense picked up conflicting signals again – scattered pockets of residual warmth, likely more dead scorpions, but also stronger, more pervasive zones of the unnatural cold, concentrated near the cavern entrance.

  Lianna paused just before the final bend, holding up a hand – a universally understood gesture for caution, even between resentful, temporary allies. She knelt, examining something on the floor Kael couldn't see clearly with his impaired vision.

  He limped closer, keeping a wary distance, trying to absorb the ambient essence from the floor again – and failing.

  "More Cryo-Kin residue," Lianna murmured, almost to herself, tracing a pattern of frozen slime on the floor with a gloved finger. "But different. Less stable. And..." She pointed towards the cavern entrance. "Look at the thermal scarring."

  Kael squinted, focusing his heat sense past the confusing cold spots. She was right. The entrance to the cavern bore immense scars, not just scorched black but melted smooth in great swathes, radiating intense, heat signatures, far older and more potent than the aftermath of the scorpions' demise. But superimposed over these ancient heat scars were the pungent, leaching cold signatures of the Cryo-Kin passage.

  "Something fiercely hot resided here," Lianna mused, standing up. "Or passed through repeatedly. Enough to literally melt the rock. The Cryo-Kin seem drawn to these residual thermal zones, perhaps feeding on the lingering energy, or maybe drawn into conflict with whatever else still utilizes them."

  Before Kael could process the implications, a low, guttural echoed from the cavern ahead. It wasn't the sharp clicking of the Cinder Scorpions, nor the silence of the Cryo-Kin. This was organic, reptilian, filled with menace.

  Instantly, both Kael and Lianna tensed. Lianna drew a slim, wickedly curved blade from her belt, its metal gleaming faintly even in the dim light. Kael braced himself, leaning on his crutch, trying to ready his battered body for another fight, feeling the inadequacy of his near-empty inner flame.

  From around the bend, something new emerged into view. It wasn't large, perhaps only four feet long from snout to tail, but it radiated significant heat, far more focused and intense than a scorpion. It resembled a lizard sculpted from cooling, cracking lava, its hide a mosaic of dark, heat-resistant scales interspersed with glowing cracks that pulsed with orange light. Steam vented from slits along its back, and its eyes were molten gold orbs burning with primal hunger. Its claws looked capable of shearing through rock, and a forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, likely sensing their presence. A Lavaborn Monitor, another creature Kael recognized only from terrified whispers among the charcoal bearers – notoriously territorial ambush predators.

  But it wasn't alone. Behind it, partially visible around the bend, Kael's heat sense picked up several more signatures, smaller, but radiating the same intense, predatory heat. A pack.

  And they weren't looking at Kael or Lianna. Their molten eyes were fixed on something else, deeper within the cavern Kael couldn't yet see. They were tense, growling low in their chests, seemingly preparing to attack whatever lay beyond the entrance.

  Lianna shot Kael a sharp glance. "Caught between," she breathed, her voice low. "Monitors hunting whatever is in that cavern. And we’re blocking their path or potential retreat."

  Kael understood immediately. They were trapped in a potential crossfire. The Lavaborn Monitors likely viewed them as lesser threats, or perhaps just additional prey to be dealt with after their primary target. Either way, staying here was untenable.

  "Back," Kael rasped, nodding towards the narrow tunnel they'd just exited.

  "Blocked by ice," Lianna countered instantly, her eyes darting between the Monitors and the unseen presence in the cavern. "Breaking through would draw their attention immediately. Forward is the only path, through them or past them." Her hand tightened on her blade. "We need to move , while they're focused elsewhere."

  She was right. Hesitation was death. But charging past a pack of enraged Lavaborn Monitors seemed suicidal, especially in his state. Yet, waiting for whatever they were hunting to emerge from the cavern might be even worse.

  The lead Monitor hissed again, gathering its powerful legs beneath it, clearly about to charge into the cavern. Whatever they would end up doing, they had to do it fast.