CHAPTER 465: CHAPTER 465: PLEASE JUST... FALL. INTO MY HANDS

The moment Isabella tried to stand, her legs trembled so badly she almost fell again.

Pain shot up from her injured thigh like lightning, hot and sharp, making her curse under her breath. Before she could even steady herself, the man was already in front of her, his hands reaching out, expression—surprisingly—worried.

"Don’t touch me," she hissed, pulling her arm free before his fingers could even brush her skin.

He froze mid-motion.

Her glare cut like a blade, and her voice—low, tired, but full of that same wild spark—came out steady, "I wasn’t sent here to get attached to anyone. I can stand on my own."

He didn’t argue. Maybe he knew better now.

So she walked—limping but proud—toward the flower that glowed under the full beam of moonlight. The air around it shimmered faintly, silver dust spiraling as if the mountain itself were breathing. The light was soft yet divine, bending toward her every time she took a step closer.

The phoenix man watched from behind, silent, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief. Even Glimora, perched beside a rock, her soft white fur glowing faintly in the moonlight, had gone still. The creature’s round eyes blinked like two drops of glass, reflecting the flower’s glow.

The little inhabitants of the cave began to emerge one by one—tiny winged things with translucent bodies, fur-covered creatures the size of her palm, all blinking sleepily. They gathered on rocks, on vines, on the edges of the waterfall, whispering among themselves in voices that sounded like the wind pretending to speak.

"Human... trying... again?" one murmured.

"Pretty light... never give," another said, words broken but still somehow understandable.

"No one... take. Flower choose... self."

Their tones weren’t hostile—just curious, maybe a little pitying.

Isabella squinted at them, catching fragments of what they said. "What do you mean, it chooses?"

They only blinked back, their glowing eyes reflecting the moonlight like beads.

She crouched carefully, pain still searing through her leg, and stared at the flower. "So you’re special, huh?" she muttered under her breath. "You just... fall into someone’s hand willingly. That’s your whole thing?"

The flower swayed slightly, as if mocking her.

"Alright, fine. Fall then," she said, holding out her palms under it. Nothing.

"Okay. Maybe ’fall’ isn’t your word." She waved her hands dramatically. "Descend. Drop. Leap. Tumble. Collapse with dignity. Anything."

The flower did not move.

From behind, the man rubbed the back of his neck. "Are... are you speaking to it?"

"Yes."

"You know it’s a plant, right?"

She shot him a glare over her shoulder. "You know you’re annoying, right?"

He immediately fell silent again.

Glimora let out a small chirp, eyes wide as if she, too, thought her mama had officially lost her mind.

"Don’t look at me like that," Isabella said, pointing at the little creature. "You’ve seen me do worse."

The tiny beast blinked. True.

Isabella sighed, putting her hands back under the flower. She waited. And waited. And waited.

Her arms started to ache. Her leg throbbed. Her patience snapped.

She closed her eyes and muttered in her head, Bubu, what if I just pluck it?

The system’s calm, ever-annoying voice rang instantly: Then you will be kicked out of the cave.

She opened her eyes, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. So no plucking, got it. But maybe—

"Also," Bubu added in her mind, "your current injury would worsen mid-expulsion."

"Oh my god, you’re so dramatic," she muttered aloud. Then she raised her voice. "Wait—so now you can talk again? I thought you disappeared!"

The cube’s faint light appeared in front of her for half a heartbeat before vanishing again.

"Oh my god, I wasn’t done!" she yelled into the air. "Why are you like this?!"

The phoenix man blinked. "She’s talking to no one again."

The little cave creatures whispered among themselves: "Mad... human... maybe cursed."

Glimora just tilted her head, looking done with life.

Isabella ignored them all, staring stubbornly at the flower again. "Okay, look. Please just... fall. Into my hands. I’m tired, I’m bleeding, my system—is acting like a drama queen, and I really, really need you to help me save my friend."

Her voice trembled, just a little.

"I’m not even asking for myself," she whispered, staring up at the glowing petals. "You’re not even for me. You’re for Shelia. She’s still waiting for me to come back. I can’t keep wasting time here."

The flower shimmered faintly, but still, it didn’t move.

Her shoulders slumped. "Of course. Of course you’re stubborn too. Everything in this cursed mountain has an attitude problem."

She lowered her hands slowly, ready to give up. "Fine. Don’t fall. Be difficult. I don’t care anymore."

But her voice cracked on the last word.

She blinked hard. "I’m not crying," she muttered quickly, even though no one had accused her of it.

Her leg hurt. Her head throbbed. Her heart ached with something heavy—fear, exhaustion, helplessness. She hated it. She hated feeling this weak.

"Just fall into my goddamn hands!" she burst out suddenly, voice echoing through the cavern. "I have a life to save! I have a friend to save! I’m not even going to use you for myself, you stubborn little glow stick!"

The cave went still. Even the waterfall seemed to pause.

She stood there breathing heavily, eyes wet and chest rising and falling, ready to drop her hands and walk away.

The phoenix man—who had been watching in silence—felt something strange in the air, like pressure building before a storm. Even the creatures around the cave went quiet, their whispers fading.

And then, it happened.

A faint hum, soft and melodic, rose from the flower. The petals began to tremble. Silver light rippled outward from its core, dancing across the floor like waves of moonlight. The air smelled of rain and cold wind.

Isabella blinked, frozen.

The stem straightened, stretching toward her, glowing brighter and brighter—until the entire flower lifted free from the soil.

It floated.

Right into her open palms.

Warm. Soft. Alive.