Adrian stared at the intact chain, feeling frustration bubbling inside him. His fiery chains hissed around him, their light reflecting off the runes on the sarcophagus. "What do we have here?" he muttered, examining the strange, pulsing energy that surrounded the chains.

He swung his sword again, pouring more strength into the strike.

The blade clanged loudly, but the chain remained unscathed, the rebound sending another jolt through his arm. Adrian cursed under his breath, lowering his sword as he stepped back to reassess.

The chains were unlike anything he had encountered before. They weren't just enchanted—they felt alive, as though they were actively resisting him. His fiery chains lashed out instinctively, wrapping around the sarcophagus.

Still, they could only spark harmlessly against the magical bindings.

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, focusing on the energy coursing through him—the goddesses' energy. It was soft, a gentle vibration under his skin, but it was there. Maybe…

Adrian tightened his grip on the sword and summoned the power. It surged through his veins, igniting his fiery chains with a brighter glow. He directed that energy into his weapon, the blade glowing with a vibrant, golden-red aura.

Without hesitation, he struck again.

The blade met the chain with a resounding crash, and this time, the runes flickered and dimmed. The energy pulsing through the chain faltered, and with a final surge of strength, Adrian drove the sword downward.

The chain shattered, fragments scattering across the chamber floor as the residual energy dissipated.

He didn't stop.

Channeling the same energy, he moved to the next chain and repeated the process. Each strike grew easier as the runes' defenses weakened, and soon, the sarcophagus was free of its bindings.

Adrian stepped back, his breathing heavy as he wiped sweat from his brow. The room fell silent, the faint hum of magic replaced by an almost reverent stillness.

Adrian approached the sarcophagus cautiously, his fiery chains dimming as he sheathed his sword. He placed his hands on the lid, pushing it aside with a low groan. The heavy stone slid open, revealing the figure within.

Hestia lay motionless, her long brown hair cascading around her like silk. Her skin was porcelain fair, glowing faintly with the soft light of her dormant power.

She looked impossibly young, perhaps in her early twenties, her features serene as if lost in the depths of a pleasant dream.

Her body was perfectly proportioned, with well-rounded breasts with erect nipples from the chilly air in the chamber, a flat tummy, and a small waist that flared out to wide hips, shapely legs, and long, toned limbs.

Her lips were full and red, her lashes thick and dark, and her cheeks tinged with the slightest hint of pink. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

Adrian inhaled deeply, steadying himself before reaching out to take her hand. Her skin was cool to the touch, almost unnervingly so.

"Hestia," he called softly, leaning closer. "Wake up."

For a moment, nothing happened. Then she stirred, her lips parting in a quiet sigh as she turned onto her side, curling up as though savoring her slumber.

"Hestia," Adrian said more firmly, his voice cutting through the stillness. "You need to wake up."

A groan escaped her lips, followed by a lazy stretch that sent her arms draping over the edges of the sarcophagus. "Can't we just stay a little longer?" she mumbled in a soft and melodic voice, yet lacking enthusiasm.

Adrian frowned. "We can't stay here. You need to wake up."

Her eyes fluttered open, revealing marine blue irises that sparkled like gemstones even in the dim light of the chamber. They were breathtakingly beautiful, but the look in them was detached, almost indifferent.

Hestia blinked slowly, her gaze landing on Adrian.

"And why not?" she murmured, her tone showing no rush.

"Because I freed you from your prison, like I promised," Adrian replied, trying not to sound frustrated. "And your sisters are waiting for you outside."

Hestia sighed again, a lazy smile playing on her lips as she sat up with painstaking slowness. "You went to all that trouble for me? How sweet." Her words lacked any real enthusiasm, her tone more amused than grateful.

Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. "Hestia, we need to leave. The Shadow Court could be closing in, and I can't afford to waste time."

She tilted her head, yawning lazily as she stretched her arms overhead. "You mortals are always in such a hurry," she muttered, her gaze drifting around the chamber. "Why don't we just stay here for a while? It's quiet. Comfortable."

Adrian's eyes narrowed. "It's a tomb."

Hestia shrugged, her movement slow and relaxed. "And yet, it's better than most places."

Adrian clenched his fists, biting back a sharp retort. He knew she wasn't trying to be difficult—it was simply her nature. "I need you to focus, Hestia. We have to form the contract that would bind us together."

She blinked at him, her blue eyes widening slightly as if the very thought was exhausting. "A contract?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have the strength to think about something so… tedious."

Adrian stared at her, disbelief flickering across his face. "You don't have the strength?"

Hestia leaned back against the edge of the sarcophagus, her posture utterly relaxed. "I just don't feel like doing anything," she said, her voice carrying a dreamy quality. "Why don't we skip the contract? It sounds like such a hassle."

Adrian inhaled deeply, his fiery chains snapping faintly in the air around him as he fought to maintain his composure. "We can't skip the contract, Hestia. It's how you are tethered to this world, how your powers are fully restored and how you'll be able to leave this place."

She yawned again, covering her mouth delicately. "I can't imagine why I'd want to leave," she murmured. Her gaze shifted to Adrian, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Unless, of course, you're offering to carry me."

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