Chapter 87: Molten Cliffs and Elderstorm Caverns

The ride to the Molten Cliffs was nothing short of breathtaking, though for Alaric, the real beauty sat right in front of him. Rosalind’s crimson hair caught the late-morning sunlight, cascading down her back like a river of fire. The contrast of her sharp, purple pupils and his own striking red eyes painted them as a pair that was hard to miss. Both were powerful mages in their own right, their auras naturally radiating confidence and strength—but at this moment, Alaric’s thoughts weren’t just on their mission. They were on her.

The horse galloped steadily along the rugged path, hooves pounding against the earth, kicking up small clouds of dust. Rosalind sat securely in front of him, her back pressed against his chest, her slender waist within easy reach. Alaric’s arms wrapped around her casually, but his hands weren’t exactly idle. Every so often, his fingers would trace lazy patterns against her sides, brushing over the curve of her hips or resting briefly on her thighs before returning to the reins.

Rosalind’s cheeks flushed faintly at his boldness, but she didn’t stop him. If anything, she leaned into him more, letting herself enjoy the warmth of his body behind her. The air around them grew warmer as they approached the cliffs, the faint scent of sulfur in the breeze mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest they had just left behind.

“You know,” Rosalind said casually, glancing back over her shoulder, “if you keep that up, we’re going to end up veering off the path.”

Alaric grinned, his golden blonde hair catching the wind as he tightened his hold around her waist. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just making sure you don’t fall off. This horse is moving pretty fast, after all.”

Rosalind laughed softly, shaking her head. “I’m not that fragile, Alaric. Save the excuses.”

He chuckled, leaning forward slightly so his lips were near her ear. “Fine. I’ll admit it. I just like having you close.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t push him away. Instead, she reached down and placed her hand lightly over his. “You’re impossible,” she murmured, though her tone was more amused than annoyed.

As they approached the Molten Cliffs, the scenery shifted dramatically. Jagged, red-hued rocks jutted out of the earth, and thin streams of molten lava trickled down from cracks in the cliffs. The air was heavy with heat, shimmering waves distorting the landscape ahead. Despite the oppressive environment, Alaric and Rosalind pressed on, their shared horse expertly navigating the uneven terrain.

“It’s hotter than I expected,” Rosalind commented, pulling her crimson cloak tighter around her shoulders to shield herself from the rising embers. Her purple eyes scanned the area carefully. “The Silverheart Blossoms should grow near the larger magma streams. Keep an eye out.”

Alaric nodded but stayed alert for more than just flowers. The Molten Cliffs were known for their dangerous fauna, and it wasn’t long before they encountered trouble. A group of salamanders, their scaled bodies glowing a fiery orange, emerged from the shadows of a nearby rock formation. Their sharp claws scraped against the ground, and their glowing eyes fixed hungrily on the intruders.

Rosalind dismounted first, drawing a slender silver wand from her belt. Alaric followed, but not before letting his hands linger on her waist as he helped her down. She shot him a playful glare but quickly turned her focus to the creatures ahead.

“You take the ones on the left,” Alaric said smoothly, his tone calm despite the heat and danger. “I’ll handle the rest.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Rosalind shot back with a smirk, already preparing a spell.

The first salamander lunged toward her, but Rosalind was ready. With a flick of her wrist, she cast Aqua Spear, sending a sharp, concentrated jet of water hurtling toward the creature. The spell struck true, dousing the salamander’s fiery glow and sending it screeching backward.

Alaric, meanwhile, raised his hand and muttered an incantation. Frost Veil activated, and a wave of icy mist spread out in a semi-circle around him, freezing the ground beneath the salamanders and slowing their movements. He followed it up with Glacial Spikes, summoning jagged shards of ice that erupted from the ground, impaling two salamanders in an instant.

Rosalind dispatched another with a precise Torrent Wave, the powerful blast of water slamming into the creature and extinguishing its fiery core. She paused briefly, glancing toward Alaric—and what she saw made her jaw drop.

The magic Alaric wielded was stronger than she remembered—far stronger. Each spell he cast radiated a power that seemed almost unnatural. His Frozen Cascade, a devastating stream of water that turned to ice mid-air, wiped out the remaining salamanders with ease. Even the heat of the Molten Cliffs couldn’t withstand the sheer force of his magic.

“Alaric,” Rosalind said, her voice tinged with disbelief as the last salamander fell. “What… what happened to your magic? It’s so much stronger than before. It’s even stronger than mine.”

Alaric turned to her, brushing a hand through his wind-tousled blonde hair. His red eyes gleamed with satisfaction, but there was no arrogance in his tone as he explained. “I experienced my second awakening.”

Rosalind’s eyes widened. “Second awakening?”

He nodded, his expression calm but proud. “It happened shortly after we cleared the Golden Pelt Grotto. My magical core advanced to the Master Mage rank. That’s why my spells feel different to you. They’re not just stronger—they’re on a completely different level now.”

Rosalind stared at him, stunned. “Master Mage rank… Alaric, that’s incredible! I’ve gone through a second awakening too, but it only brought me to the rank of Expert Mage. To think you jumped all the way from Apprentice to Master in one go…”

He shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Maybe my potential as a mage is higher than I thought. Or maybe it’s just luck. Either way, it’s been… interesting, learning to control this new power.”

Rosalind shook her head in awe. “Interesting? It’s a miracle, Alaric. You should be proud.”

He chuckled, stepping closer to her and brushing a strand of crimson hair away from her face. “I am. But right now, I’m more focused on getting those blossoms. Shall we?”

The Silverheart Blossoms were as beautiful as they were elusive. Nestled near the edge of a bubbling magma stream, the delicate flowers glowed with a soft silver light, their petals shimmering like molten moonlight. Rosalind crouched down carefully to harvest them, using a pair of enchanted gloves to avoid the intense heat.

Alaric stood nearby, keeping watch for any more threats. His hand rested lightly on Rosalind’s shoulder as she worked, his touch both protective and affectionate.

“Got them,” she said after a few minutes, holding up the blossoms with a satisfied smile. “Now we just need to find those two other herbs…”

The next rare ingredient, Emberweed, grew in small clusters near pockets of superheated air. Rosalind spotted some a short distance away, but as they approached, a pair of magma hounds emerged from the shadows. The beasts were larger and more aggressive than the salamanders, their molten bodies radiating an intense heat that warped the air around them.

“Stay back,” Alaric said, stepping forward with a confident smirk. He raised his hand and cast Blizzard Barrage, a rapid-fire spell that launched dozens of small, icy projectiles at the hounds. The creatures snarled and lunged, but the spell’s relentless assault quickly overwhelmed them, encasing them in thick layers of frost before shattering them into pieces.

Rosalind whistled softly.

“Impressive as always,” she said, giving him an approving nod before collecting the Emberweed.

Finally, they found the last herb “Lavafern”, growing on a precarious ledge overlooking a pool of molten lava.

Working together, they used a combination of magic and agility to retrieve it safely, with Alaric freezing sections of the ledge to stabilize it while Rosalind carefully harvested the plant.

As they made their way back to the main trail, they encountered a group of adventurers struggling against a pack of flame-wyrms.

Without hesitation, Alaric and Rosalind jumped in to assist, their combined magic swiftly turning the tide of the battle. The grateful adventurers thanked them profusely, offering supplies in return, but the pair declined, waving off the offer with friendly smiles.

Throughout the journey, Alaric\u2019s hands never strayed far from Rosalind\u2019s curves, whether he was helping her down from the horse or guiding her through a tricky patch of terrain. Rosalind, for her part, didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seemed to enjoy the attention, her playful smirks and light touches in return making it clear that the feeling was mutual.

By the time they left the Molten Cliffs, they had everything they needed for the “Mystic Rejuvenation Elixir” and their bond had grown even stronger. It had been a productive day, in more ways than one.

~~

The rhythmic clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on the rocky trail echoed through the quiet valley as Alaric and Rosalind approached the entrance to the Elderstorm Caverns.

The cavern mouth loomed before them, jagged and foreboding, like a gaping maw ready to swallow intruders whole. A chill wind wafted out, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth and something metallic—blood, perhaps. The place was infamous among adventurers, not just for the labyrinthine structure but for the dangerous beasts that called it home. And yet, its reputation as a treasure trove for rare herbs and lost artifacts was enough to draw seekers of fortune and fame from far and wide.

Rosalind shivered slightly as she gazed at the ominous entrance. “Well, this is inviting,” she muttered, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

Alaric chuckled, dismounting the horse with ease. “What did you expect? A red carpet? We’ve handled worse.” He extended a hand to help her down, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary on her waist as he steadied her.

She rolled her eyes, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. “Just don’t get us lost in there, Alaric.”

“Me? Lost?” he teased, giving her a mock-hurt look. “I’m practically a walking compass.”

As they stepped into the cavern, the darkness swallowed them whole. Alaric raised his hand, conjuring a small Flame Ball spell that hovered above his palm, casting flickering light around them. The shadows danced on the uneven walls, creating eerie shapes that seemed to shift and move. Rosalind followed suit, summoning her own orb of light, though she stayed close to Alaric—closer than usual.

“Dark in here, isn’t it?” Alaric remarked casually, his arm snaking around her waist under the guise of keeping her safe. His hand brushed her hip, and Rosalind shot him a side-eye glance but didn’t pull away.

“Dark or not, keep your hands where they belong,” she muttered, though her tone lacked any real bite.

“Can’t help it,” he said with a grin she couldn’t see. “It’s for your protection.”

The two ventured deeper into the labyrinthine caverns, their light spells illuminating the glistening walls. The air grew colder, and the sound of dripping water echoed eerily. Not long after, the first threat emerged—a swarm of Dire Bats, their leathery wings flapping noisily as they descended from the ceiling.

“Guess we’re not the only ones who like it dark,” Rosalind quipped, already weaving a spell. She unleashed Wind Cutter, slicing through the swarm with sharp, precise gusts of air. The bats screeched as the magical blades tore through them, some falling lifeless to the ground.

Alaric joined in, hurling Flame Wave, a burst of fiery energy that incinerated the remaining bats mid-flight. The cavern walls glowed briefly with the intensity of the flames, and the air filled with the acrid smell of burnt flesh.

“Well, that was fun,” Alaric said, stepping over the charred remains.

“Speak for yourself,” Rosalind replied, brushing a stray lock of crimson hair from her face. “Let’s hope the rest of this place isn’t as welcoming.”

They pressed on, the path twisting and turning unpredictably. The cavern was indeed a labyrinth, with narrow passages opening into vast chambers and sudden dead ends forcing them to retrace their steps. Every so often, they came across corpses—remnants of adventurers who had not been so lucky. Some were barely more than skeletons, their armor rusted and their weapons shattered. Others were fresher, their faces frozen in expressions of terror.

Rosalind frowned as they passed another body. “How many people have died in here? This place is a death trap.”

“More loot for us,” Alaric said nonchalantly, crouching beside one of the corpses to examine a bag. He pulled out a small pouch of gold coins, a tarnished ring, and a weathered map. “Look at this. A treasure map, maybe?”

Rosalind leaned over his shoulder, her purple eyes scanning the faded markings. “Could be. Or it could just be someone’s grocery list.”

“Either way, I’m keeping it,” he said, tucking the map into his satchel.

The deeper they went, the more hostile the environment became. They encountered Shadow Leopards, sleek predators that moved silently through the darkness. Rosalind took the lead this time, summoning Flame Arrows that streaked through the air, striking the creatures with deadly precision. Alaric supported her with Wind Storm, creating gusts of air that disoriented the beasts and left them vulnerable to her attacks.

“Not bad for an Expert Mage,” Alaric teased as Rosalind dispatched the last leopard.

“Not bad for a show-off,” she shot back, though the corners of her lips twitched upward.

As they ventured further, Alaric began to notice something strange. While Rosalind relied heavily on her light spell to see, he realized he could make out the details of the cavern as clearly as if it were daylight. The jagged edges of the walls, the subtle glint of minerals embedded in the stone, even the faint scratches left by claws—it was all unnervingly vivid.

He frowned, recalling the moment he had absorbed the blood essence of the Azure Spirit Lion. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now it was clear that his body had undergone significant changes. Enhanced vision in the dark was just the beginning. What else had he gained? And how much should he tell Rosalind?

For now, he decided to keep it to himself. “Stick close,” he said instead, his arm once again finding its way around her waist. “Wouldn’t want you wandering off.”

Rosalind glanced at him suspiciously but didn’t protest. “You’re awfully touchy today.”

“It’s dark,” he said with a shrug, though he couldn’t help the smirk that played on his lips. As they walked, his hand “accidentally” brushed against her hip, her lower back, and once, quite brazenly, her buttocks.

“Alaric,” she said warningly, though there was a faint blush on her cheeks. “Behave.”

“Always,” he replied with a wink she couldn’t see.

The rare herbs they sought were scattered throughout the caverns, each one in a perilous location. The first, Nightshade Bloom, grew on the edge of an underground chasm. Alaric used Wind Platform to create a makeshift bridge, allowing Rosalind to carefully harvest the flowers without falling to her death.

The second, Ghostvine, clung to the walls of a chamber infested with Cave Crawlers—vicious, spider-like creatures with razor-sharp legs. The pair fought their way through, Alaric’s Flame Burst reducing the creatures to ash while Rosalind used Gust Barrage to keep them at bay. Once the room was cleared, they collected the glowing vines and moved on.

The third herb, Shadowroot, proved the most difficult to obtain. It grew in a chamber guarded by a massive Shadow Golem, a hulking creature of living stone and darkness. The battle was intense, with Alaric using Flame Spiral to chip away at the golem’s exterior while Rosalind kept it distracted with rapid-fire Wind Spears. Eventually, they brought it down, the ground shaking as it collapsed into rubble.

“Remind me never to complain about farming herbs again,” Rosalind panted, wiping sweat from her brow.

The final herb, Eclipsed Fern, was found near the exit, its black leaves shimmering faintly in the light of their spells. Collecting it was a simple task compared to what they had just endured.

By the time they emerged from the cavern, their bags were heavy with herbs, artifacts, and loot from the unfortunate adventurers who had met their end inside. Rosalind stretched, wincing slightly as her muscles protested. “That was exhausting.”

Alaric smiled, his red eyes gleaming in the fading light. “Exhausting, but worth it.”

As they mounted their horse and set off for their next destination, Alaric couldn’t help but reflect on the changes he was experiencing. The blood essence of the Azure Spirit Lion had given him more than just power—it had given him possibilities. And while he wasn’t ready to share this secret with Rosalind, he couldn’t deny the thrill of discovery.

For now, though, he was content to enjoy the journey—and Rosalind’s company. His hands found her waist again, pulling her close under the pretense of steadying her on the horse. She didn’t resist, leaning back against him with a sigh.

“Don’t push your luck, Alaric,” she murmured, though there was no real heat in her words.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, a mischievous grin on his face as they rode off into the distance, the Elderstorm Caverns shrinking into the horizon behind them.