Lackey's Seducing Survival Odyssey

Sera and Sandra both froze in place, visibly taken aback by Dora’s words. There was something terrifyingly calm in the way she spoke—something that made both of them go silent.

Dora kept her eyes fixed on Aether, her face hard, unreadable. “Can you… take it?” she repeated slowly, her tone dipping into something darker, more dangerous with every word.

Aether met her gaze, and for a moment, the world narrowed around them. His expression twisted in anguish as if the very air around him grew heavier. He understood what she was asking of him. No riddles, no hidden meanings—He fucking got it.

“I—I can’t,” he finally whispered, shaking his head. His voice cracked under the pressure, and his eyes dropped. “I just… can’t. I’ve already spilt enough blood,” he muttered and inwardly added, ‘My hands… they’ve taken too much from the ones I love already.’ His fingers trembled, as if the guilt was physically eating at him.

Dora stared at him in silence for a moment, her gaze filled with disappointment so raw it stung. “Even though the opportunity was laid before you… you still chose to step back?” she asked quietly.

Aether didn’t respond.

She watched him, her disappointment deepening with every passing second. Her expression shifted slightly—softening not with kindness, but with a worn-out kind of sorrow. “You…” she murmured, her voice just above a whisper. “Hmm… I suppose you still carry the heart of a child.” Her tone was gentle, but her words pierced like daggers.

Then she straightened her posture, taking a slow breath as her tone turned cold and analytical. “We cannot say with certainty whether your skill will work or not. Considering we’re dealing with the Ebon Stone, let’s assume it’s a 50/50 chance.”

Her eyes flicked toward Sandra. And in that moment, Dora saw something only she could see—two thin threads of fate stretching from Sandra’s form. One was crimson red, connecting her to Aether. The other… a pale grey one, frail and nearly transparent, fluttered loosely in the air.

Dora hummed, her eyes narrowing slightly. “If we sacrifice Sandra’s life… then there’s only a fifty percent chance she might not come back.”

Aether clenched his jaw and closed his eyes tightly.

Sandra, however, nodded in acknowledgement. There was no hesitation in her expression. She had already accepted that possibility.

“But…” Dora continued, turning slightly as her eyes landed on the ancient stone inscribed with forbidden words, “if I give my life instead… then there’s a seventy to eighty percent chance of survival.” She turned back to the others, calm and composed. “And if that is combined with Aether’s ability… then I’d say there’s a ninety-nine percent possibility of the best outcome.”

Her gaze scanned the area. She could see the confused expressions blooming on both Sandra’s and Sera’s faces.

Aether, on the other hand… was unusually still. Too still.

Dora noticed it—and that told her everything she needed to know.

‘He already knew,’ she thought. ‘He’s already seen it. He knows what I can do…’

Sera frowned, her arms crossing as she tilted her head slightly. “Wait—what do you mean seventy to eighty percent? How the hell does that make sense? Aether’s the one using the ability, not you. What are you even talking about?”

Dora just smiled gently, turning toward Aether instead of answering Sera directly. “I can’t explain the full details. But… believe in me. My life is the one needed here. Trust that.”

Sandra opened her mouth to protest, raising her hand—but Dora silenced her immediately with a cold, detached stare. Her eyes, empty of emotion, shut down any argument before it could form.

Then she turned back to Aether, her expression softening once more. “I will not die by anyone’s hand… except the one who once saved me. The one who loves me dearly.”

Aether’s hands trembled even harder now. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his lips began to quiver.

“You just…” he began, his voice breaking apart, “can’t you just—”

But he couldn’t finish the sentence. The words got stuck in his throat, suffocating him from the inside.

Sera gave a small shrug, watching him with a half-puzzled, half-annoyed expression. “Why the drama? If you think you have such a high chance of survival, then just do it already. Kill yourself. I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but this whole emotional act is really dragging.”

Dora gave a soft, humorless sigh. “If it were only that easy,” she muttered, more to herself than to anyone else. Then she shook her head. “To activate my ability… I cannot die by my own hand. That’s the condition. That’s why…”

She turned toward Aether again, locking eyes with him. Her gaze was deep, solemn, and full of unspoken meaning.

His lips trembled.

Sandra and Sera exchanged glances, both frowning at the intensity between the two.

“We don’t mind killing you, you know,” they said in perfect unison, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

But even they could see it now—the pain in Aether’s eyes was real. This wasn’t just hesitation or doubt.

This was a kind of pain only love could bring.

However—

Dora shook her head sharply, her voice slicing through the air, “I’ll kill you before you even lay a finger on me, bitches!” Her tone dripped with raw threat, eyes narrowing like a predator on edge.

Sandra and Sera’s lips twitched in sync. “She’s really pissing me off now…” they muttered together, their irritation bubbling dangerously.

Dora turned her attention back to Aether, her gaze intense, “This is how my trial went, Aether… I had to kill what I loved.” Her voice didn’t waver as her fingers clenched tightly, veins pulsing.

“That’s what made me who I am today—strong, both physically and mentally.

You can’t be strong and naive at the same time. Because if you are… when someone you trust backstabs you, it’ll break you. And you’ll feel everything—too much.”

Her words were like ice.

She remembered it well—when Alaric betrayed her. Sure, it shocked her. Sure, it hurt. But she hadn’t collapsed. She hadn’t curled into a corner to cry. She wasn’t broken. She wasn’t lost.

No.

She had tortured him the very next second. Without hesitation. Without regret.

Even though they had been together for almost 1000 years.

Her heart had gone cold.

That’s what it took to become strong—true strength, carved into body and soul.

Dora then smiled, but it wasn’t warm. It was sad, knowing, bitter. “But unlike me… you still have a chance. A real chance to get me back.” Her hand reached forward, pressing gently against Aether’s chest. “You still have hope, Aether. And with that hope… you can keep pressing forward.”

She leaned close, her lips brushing his ear, whispering with a soft finality that shook his core, “And I’ll be honoured to die by your hands… the hands that did everything they could to save me. I saw how much you did for me… This way… I can finally repay the debt I owe you. So please… do it for me.”

Aether gave a fragile, wavering smile. His lips quivered and his hands trembled violently. “Y-You’re being… selfish… don’t you think?”

Dora let out a soft laugh, her smile matching his. “Yeah… I’ve always been selfish. But hey—this might be my last chance to see how far my great disciple has grown in such a short time.” Her voice held pride, tenderness, and resignation all at once. Then she smirked faintly. “Let’s go all out~” she teased with a playful wink.

Suddenly, her fingertip—still resting against his chest—exploded with a violent surge of flame.

BOOOOMMMM!!

Aether was blasted backwards, his body skidding across the ground as he tumbled violently before finally stabilising himself. He stood, gasping, chest cracked and scorched, the pain sharp—but it was her intent that hurt even more.

Sera moved to help him, worry crossing her face, but Dora’s voice cracked like a whip, cold and merciless. “Don’t you dare invade this.” Her tone was deadly, absolute.

She stomped the ground.

In an instant, Aether saw her again—she had already closed the distance. Standing before him with a towering, frost-coated axe in her hands, the blade shimmered with razor-sharp edges of enchanted ice. With no warning, she roared and swung it down at his forehead, her muscles straining as she poured everything into the attack.

“ARRRHH!!”

The ground beneath her cracked and split, the earth itself groaning under the force. She wasn’t holding back.

Not even a little.

This wasn’t a test. This wasn’t a play.

It was either do or die—and this was the path she had chosen to pull out the real Aether.

The Aether who wouldn’t hesitate.

The Aether who would fight to protect and endure—even if it meant hurting the one he loved.

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