My Scumbag System-Chapter 380: A Princess is a Poor Insulator

We trudged through the tunnel for what felt like hours. My shoes squished with every step, still waterlogged from our river adventure.

Whoever designed this place had a sick sense of humor—the tunnel curved and twisted like intestines, never giving us a clear view of what lay ahead.

"You holding up okay, Princess?" I glanced at Celeste, who was starting to lag behind.

"I’m fine," she said, but her voice had lost some of its royal polish. Her silver-white hair hung in damp clumps, and despite her best efforts to dry our clothes, the chill had settled into our bones.

"Sure you are. And I’m the tooth fairy."

She shot me a glare that could’ve frozen hell. "I don’t recall asking for your concern."

"Good thing I’m giving it for free, then."

The tunnel widened into a small chamber with three branching paths. I stopped and ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. "Great. More choices."

Celeste swayed slightly beside me. I pretended not to notice how pale she’d become or the way she steadied herself against the wall. The Ice Princess had limits after all.

"Let’s take a break," I said, making it sound casual. "I need to check something."

She didn’t argue, which told me everything I needed to know about her actual condition.

I examined the three tunnels. The left one had a slight upward slope and felt drier. The middle path continued straight, with the same damp walls we’d been following. The right tunnel sloped downward, and I could feel a cold draft coming from it.

"Up is usually good," I muttered, heading toward the left passage.

After about fifty yards, the tunnel opened into a small cavern. It was roughly circular, maybe twenty feet across, with a high ceiling that disappeared into darkness. Most importantly, it was dry, with smooth stone walls that would be easy to defend.

"Jackpot," I announced. "Five-star accommodations for stranded idiots."

Celeste managed a weak smile as she entered behind me. "It’s... not terrible."

"High praise from Her Highness." I started examining the space more carefully. "Only one entrance, high ceiling for ventilation if we light a fire, and—" I tapped the walls with my bat, "—solid stone all around. Best Airbnb in the entire hellish dimension."

I glanced back at Celeste, who had slid down against the wall to sit on the floor. Her eyes were half-closed, exhaustion written across her face.

"Hey, don’t pass out on me yet," I said, kneeling beside her. "We need to get warmed up first."

"I’m just resting my eyes," she mumbled.

"Sure, and I’m just considering a career in ballet."

I gathered what I could from our surroundings—some dried roots that had worked their way through cracks in the ceiling, a few patches of strange fungus that looked flammable, and the wooden handle from Juan’s broken knife that I’d been carrying in my pocket. Not much, but it would have to do.

I arranged everything in the center of the room and activated Ember. The warm glow from my palm felt good after hours in the cold dampness. The fungus caught quickly, sending up purple-tinged flames that gave off more heat than their size suggested.

"That’s... unusual," Celeste commented, watching the dancing purple fire.

"At this point, I’d be more surprised by normal." I fed more fungus into the flames, building a decent-sized fire. "Now for the uncomfortable part."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Our clothes are still wet. We need to dry them."

Her eyes widened slightly. "You’re suggesting we remove our clothes."

"Not for fun, Princess. For survival." I kept my voice matter-of-fact. "Basic wilderness training. Wet clothes in cold environments equals hypothermia. Hypothermia equals death."

A conflicted look crossed her face. I could practically see the battle between her proper upbringing and practical necessity playing out in real time.

"Fine," she finally said. "Turn around."

I snorted. "Really? We’re facing soul possession by an ancient plant monster, and you’re worried about modesty?"

"Turn. Around."

I rolled my eyes but complied, listening to the rustle of fabric behind me. I used the opportunity to strip down to my boxers, laying my clothes out near the fire.

"You can turn back now," she said after a minute.

When I turned, my brain short-circuited for a second.

I’d seen beautiful women before. Hell, Natalia could stop traffic just by walking down the street. But Celeste was something else entirely.

She sat with her knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them in a defensive posture that did nothing to hide her ridiculous curves. Her underwear was simple but expensive-looking—pale blue that matched her eyes perfectly, because of course someone like her would have matching sets. Her skin glowed in the firelight, so pale it was almost luminescent.

But what really caught me off guard was how vulnerable she looked. The untouchable Ice Princess, heir to the Vance legacy, curled up half-naked in a cave with a guy her sister would definitely not approve of.

"Take a picture, it’ll last longer," she said, but her voice lacked its usual edge.

I realized I’d been staring and quickly sat down on the opposite side of the fire. "Sorry. Just surprised you actually own underwear. I figured you rich types just materialized fully clothed each morning."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. "And I assumed you slept in the same clothes for weeks at a time."

"Only when I’m feeling fancy."

We sat in silence for a while, watching our clothes steam by the purple fire. The cave had warmed up considerably, but I could still see goosebumps on Celeste’s arms.

"You’re still cold," I observed.

"I’m fine."

"Yeah, that’s why you’re shivering."

"I run cold naturally. My Aspect—"

"Doesn’t mean you should freeze to death out of stubbornness." I sighed and moved around to her side of the fire. "Body heat. Basic survival tactic number two."

She stiffened as I sat next to her.

"What are you doing?"