Liam’s jaw clenched. A brief, hot flicker behind his ribs, territorial and stupid. Rogue’s face, grinning, talking about Elizabeth like she was a trophy on a shelf. The instinct to step forward, to put himself between them.

Then it passed. Because Rogue was currently trying to flex his jaw at Berry, who looked like she was watching a sea lion perform at an aquarium.

Right, he’s a sea puppy, harmless.

Liam exhaled through his nose. His thumb moved slowly, deliberately against the inside of Elizabeth’s wrist. A single stroke across the thin skin there, where her pulse sat close to the surface.

"Three women," he said, low and dry. "Must’ve been a long loading screen."

Berry snorted. Actually snorted. Her ears pinched back, and she covered her mouth with one hand.

Rogue clutched his chest. "That’s slander to have STAMINA. I have a whole stamina build!"

"Your stamina stat is twelve," Berry said.

"TWELVE IS ABOVE AVERAGE."

Elizabeth hadn’t moved. Hadn’t pulled her hand back. But her thumb had stopped its idle tracing, frozen against his knuckle. Her grip shifted, fingers pressing into the spaces between his like she was testing whether he’d let her stay there.

He let her stay there.

Her shoulder brushed his arm. The top of her head barely reached his chest at this angle, and the messy pink strands caught against his black shirt, a few loose hairs clinging to the fabric.

"You smell like bread," she muttered. Not looking up. Her ears twitched, flattened slightly, the tips flushed darker than the rest.

"Made some earlier."

"For who?"

"You, later."

Her fingers squeezed. Quick. Involuntary. Then she cleared her throat and glared at Rogue as he’d personally insulted her bloodline.

Berry watched the whole exchange. Her nostrils flared once, subtly, barely visible. Her gaze moved from their joined hands to Liam’s face, to the way Elizabeth stood half a step closer than necessary.

She could smell it. Whatever pheromone cocktail was radiating off the two of them, adrenaline and attraction, and the sharp, clean soap on Liam’s skin, mixing with Elizabeth’s strawberry and sweat.

Berry’s tail curled around her own leg. Her expression didn’t change, but her posture shifted.

Rogue was still monologuing about his jawline.

"And for the record, Elizabeth, you WINKED at me during that time in Tana!"

"I had dust in my eye."

"BOTH of them?"

"Yes."

Liam’s free hand moved without thought. He reached across and patted Elizabeth’s head. His knuckle grazed the soft cartilage of her cat ear on the way past, and the ear flicked hard, pressing into his touch before snapping back upright.

Elizabeth went rigid. Her face didn’t change. But her neck flushed red from the collar up.

"You had a.." Liam started.

rogue clocks whats going on, sort of "what the hell happened between you two here and why didn’t it happen to ME"

Berry’s smirk could have cut glass as she sidled up beside Liam, her eyes darting between him and the others with barely concealed envy. Whatever the hell happened back there, I want in on it.

"Glad you’re not dead," she said cheerfully, like she was commenting on the weather. "Follow us. We’re close to the boss room, and..." she paused, almost as an afterthought, "nobody’s found Barbosa yet. Hopefully, he’s a corpse."

Liam’s brain stuttered, rebooted, and landed somewhere completely unhinged.

The ruby-eyed bastards, right those guys.

Okay. File that, I’ll deal with it later.

"...So I can finally roast those taro buns," he breathed, eyes lighting up like a man who had seen God, and God was a pastry.

Berry stared at him.

Elizabeth stared at him.

"Taro buns," he repeated, like this explained everything.

Elizabeth’s flush deepened, but her mouth twitched at the corner. She hadn’t let go of his hand. If anything, she’d stepped closer, her shoulder now pressed fully against his bicep, and the strawberry-sweet smell of her hair hit him with every inhale. He let his thumb drag across her knuckles, one slow pass and felt her whole body stiffen against his side.

Good, he wanted her stiff. He wanted her to be aware of every place they touched.

Wait, no, I need taro buns. Focus.

The tunnels swallowed them whole as the group pressed forward, frost creeping across the ceiling in jagged teeth, ice blooming between the cracks of the floor like something alive. Liam tilted his head, gears visibly grinding.

Ice is water.

Taro buns and serpent meat, his fingers ticked against his thigh, except his right hand was still occupied, Elizabeth’s grip showing no sign of releasing, so only his left hand tapped. The taro would shore up morale, Berry looked like she was already doing threat assessment math, and Elizabeth was still pink to the ears, and sashimi was water-aspected. Ice was water, and that made sense. Probably. He was about sixty per cent sure and moving forward regardless.

In the centre of a chamber paved with cracked marble stood a Wight-Lord Apprentice, essentially a Mini Lich King. A four-foot-tall skeleton wrapped in oversized, moth-eaten velvet robes, holding a staff that pulsed with rhythmic, ghostly blue light.

"I AM THE HARBINGER OF THE END," the Mini Lich squeaked, its tone like two dry leaves rubbing together. "I SHALL FREEZE YOUR SOULS IN THE ETERNAL!"

"Elizabeth," Liam interrupted, "hold the buns."

Elizabeth blinked, her free hand hovering over her rapier. "Liam, that’s an Undead-class caster. We need to interrupt the blizzard channel, or we’re going to be Level 26 ice cubes."

Liam didn’t look worried. He looked evaluating. His red eyes tracked the blue aura radiating from the Lich’s staff.

Look at that localised frost. Low humidity, consistent sub-zero temperature, powered by a soul-core. It’s not an enemy. It’s a walk-in freezer with the same height problems as Rogue.

"I’m all fired up now," Liam muttered, the Hearth in his chest igniting. He wasn’t reaching for his great sword. He was reaching into his inventory for a bundle of cured serpent Meat he’d been saving for a special occasion.

"MORTAL! YOU DARE DEFY THE FROST?" The Mini Lich raised its staff, a swirling vortex of ice forming overhead.

"He’s channelling," Elizabeth warned, stepping forward to lunge.

"No, let him," Liam said, his hand catching her shoulder. He felt the spark of the First Explorer loop sizzle between them.

I can feel her heart racing. She’s ready to kill it. But she doesn’t realise that this little bone bag is the key to the best charcuterie board.

[TOOL TIP: THE "WALK-IN FREEZER" PROTOCOL]

The "Short Problem" Logic: Liam has officially categorised the Mini Lich King as a "walk-in freezer with the same height problems as Rogue." In Liam’s world, if you’re under five feet tall and radiate frost, you aren’t a boss, you’re an appliance.

Next Objective: Convert the Harbinger of the End into a Charcuterie Board.