Harem Master: Seduction System

Chapter 89: Descending From Wyvern Hills

The valley quieted as the winds settled for a brief respite, though the tension remained thick as molasses.

Alaric and Rosalind moved cautiously, winding their way through the thorny fields of azure lilies, whose delicate petals glimmered faintly even in the shadow of the Wyvern Hills.

The air still hummed with the residue of dark magic, though the cultists themselves had scattered, licking their wounds after the sabotage.

"Let’s not linger too long," Rosalind muttered, brushing an errant lock of crimson hair from her face. Her purple eyes flickered with lingering wariness as they surveyed their surroundings. "Those Phantom Assembly lunatics might circle back, and I’m not exactly eager to test our luck."

"Relax, Rosie." Alaric flashed her a cocky grin, his red eyes gleaming in the dim light. "We outsmarted them once, didn’t we? If they’re stupid enough to return, I’ll just introduce them to my Frozen Barrage."

Rosalind rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched into a small smile. "I swear, you’d pick a fight with a wyvern if it so much as sneezed in your direction."

"Not true," Alaric replied breezily. "I’d only fight it if it sneezed on you."

She snorted softly, though a faint blush colored her cheeks as she looked away. "Charming."

Alaric let the teasing go—for now—and gestured toward the hills looming ahead.

The three herbs they needed were scattered across treacherous ground: tucked between thorny cliffs, dangling precariously from ledges, or hidden among jagged rocks where wyverns had made their nests.

The combination of violent winds and territorial beasts made the task ten times harder than it needed to be.

"Alright," Alaric said, slowing their pace as they reached a narrow path bordered by brittle stone walls. "We split up and—"

"No," Rosalind interrupted firmly, narrowing her eyes at him. "You are not leaving me to deal with wyverns on my own, Alaric."

Alaric grinned. "Fine, fine. Team effort, then."

"That’s more like it," Rosalind muttered, though her gaze softened just a little.

~~@@@@

The path was more perilous than either of them anticipated. The winds, once a distant howl, now roared with such ferocity that each step felt like a battle. Loose stones skittered across the ground, kicked up by sharp gusts, and Alaric instinctively reached out to steady Rosalind as she stumbled. His hands found purchase on her waist, fingers brushing the curve of her hips through the fabric of her cloak.

"Careful there," he said casually, though he lingered longer than necessary. "Wind’s a real bastard today."

Rosalind shot him a sidelong glance, though she didn’t pull away. "You’re lucky I don’t slap you."

"But you like it when I catch you," Alaric teased, his voice low.

Rosalind flushed but didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, she pointed ahead toward a ledge where faint glimmers of blue light shone through the mist. "There. That looks like one of the herbs."

Alaric squinted, his sharp vision cutting through the haze. "You’re right. Looks like Windshade Lavender—stubborn little things. They only grow in high winds."

"And wyvern nests," Rosalind added dryly. "Because of course they do."

Before the salamander could strike, Alaric summoned a Tidal Surge, a roaring wave of water that crashed over the creature and extinguished its flames. The salamander screeched, its scales steaming as the water sizzled and cooled the molten surface.

"Nice work, Master Mage," Rosalind teased, smirking.

Alaric shot her a wink. "I try."

~~

The third and final herb, Wyvernthorn, grew only in the highest reaches of the hills, clinging stubbornly to jagged cliffs. By this point, both Alaric and Rosalind were exhausted, though neither of them was willing to admit it.

"Almost there," Alaric said as they scrambled up the steep incline, his hand lingering on Rosalind’s waist to help steady her.

"Hands higher, Alaric," she warned, though her tone was more amused than annoyed.

"Can’t help it," he replied with a grin. "It’s a tough climb."

She shot him a look but didn’t push him away. If anything, she leaned into him a little as they ascended.

The Wyvernthorn was exactly as its name suggested: thorny and guarded by none other than a wyvern nest. Three smaller wyverns—likely the offspring of the Wyvern Lord—perched nearby, their keen eyes watching the intruders with suspicion.

"Stealth?" Rosalind suggested, her voice barely a whisper.

Alaric smirked. "Stealth."

Together, they moved carefully, sticking to the shadows as they approached the herbs. Alaric’s enhanced vision made it easier for him to spot the safest path, and he guided Rosalind silently, his hand never leaving hers.

Once they reached the Wyvernthorn, Rosalind knelt to pluck the plants, her fingers moving quickly and efficiently. "Almost done," she murmured.

But as they turned to leave, one of the wyverns let out a warning cry, its wings spreading wide.

"Run," Alaric said, his voice low and urgent.

They bolted down the cliffside, the wyverns screeching behind them. Alaric conjured an Air Burst to propel them forward, while Rosalind used her Gale Sphere to create a barrier of wind that slowed the pursuing creatures.

When they finally reached the valley floor, both of them were out of breath but alive. Alaric couldn’t help but laugh, the adrenaline making him giddy.

"You’re insane," Rosalind muttered, though her lips twitched into a smile.

"You love it," Alaric replied, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

She didn’t deny it.

As they mounted their horse and began their descent from the Wyvern Hills, Alaric’s thoughts lingered on the Phantom Assembly and their cryptic plans. The herbs were safely tucked away in his satchel, but the weight of unanswered questions pressed heavily on his mind.

’What are they really after?’ he wondered, glancing at Rosalind, who leaned comfortably against him as they rode. For now, he pushed the thoughts aside. The journey was far from over.