Levi's Perspective:
My mind had been a constant haze. Darkness stretched endlessly, swallowing time itself. Hours? Days? I lost count.
And then—light.
It stabbed into my eyes like tiny knives, forcing me to squint. My vision blurred, shapes shifting into something vaguely recognizable. A room. A well-built one. And through the window, I caught glimpses of Sylvaris's busy streets, their familiar hum bringing back fragments of memory.
Then it hit me.
The fountain outside. I was inside Requiem's guild.
I let myself sink back into the bed, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds. Then I forced magic through my body, a slow surge of healing to clear the fog in my head. The exhaustion clung to my limbs like dead weight, but I wasn't about to stay down any longer.
After a few minutes of forcing my damn eyes to work properly, I got up. My legs wobbled slightly. Yeah, a God-Speed user with weak knees—what a joke.
Pushing past the discomfort, I walked out.
The guild members I passed stopped in their tracks. Some muttered under their breath, but most just stared, eyes flicking with surprise. No comments, though. I guess seeing someone wake up from near death does that to people.
My destination was clear. Sylvia's office.
I pushed the door open without hesitation.
Inside, Sylvia sat behind a desk, eyes scanning documents, her expression unreadable. But the moment she sensed me, her gaze lifted. A calm, calculated shift, analyzing me before she even spoke.
"Levi." Her voice was smooth, laced with a noble confidence. "You're finally awake."
"Yeah," I muttered, rolling my shoulders. "Not dead yet, so that's something."
She motioned toward the chair in front of her desk. "Sit."
I raised a brow. "What, no victory parade?"
"You need rest, not celebrations."
She wasn't wrong. I let out a short breath and dropped into the seat, stretching my legs out. "So, what's the damage? Who won?"
Sylvia leaned back slightly, fingers tapping against the wooden desk. "It was a draw."
A draw? I blinked. Not exactly the outcome I was expecting.
I rubbed my temple, letting that sink in before shifting my gaze back to her. "Then what about the deal? What do we do now?"
Sylvia folded her hands, clearly thinking through her answer. Just as she opened her mouth—
The door creaked open.
I glanced to the side.
Alina stepped in.
Her icy gaze locking onto me before she even fully crossed the threshold. Her presence alone sent a chill through the room.
"Oh, so the renowned, self-proclaimed strongest Sword Saint has blessed us with his presence once more," she said, her tone dripping with cold sarcasm.
I smirked, leaning back in my chair. "You're acting as if you've won—"
"It doesn't matter."
She cut me off without hesitation, as if my words were nothing more than noise. Her focus immediately shifted to Sylvia, disregarding me entirely.
"You told me to wait until he woke up, so tell me now," she said, her tone devoid of patience, her expression as unreadable as ever.
Sylvia chuckled lightly, shaking her head. "Sit down, Alina." She gestured to the chair beside me.
Alina rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed, but sat down nonetheless, arms crossed. The contrast between us was amusing—I lounged in my seat like I owned the place, while she sat stiffly, like she was waiting for someone to prove her right about wasting her time.
Sylvia laced her fingers together, her noble poise never faltering. "The deal was simple. If Levi won, our guild would provide Celestial Apex assistance against the Grotesques. If Alina won, I'd assist her with a personal matter. Correct?"
Both of us nodded.
Sylvia exhaled, leaning slightly forward. "But as it stands, neither of you managed to secure a clear victory. Which brings me to my conclusion."
Alina and I both waited.
Sylvia's lips curled into a small smile. "I'd like to provide both of you with the bargain and give you both what I've promised. Then there's no real issue, right?"
For a moment, I processed her words. And then—
I grinned. This was perfect.
I actually managed to win over the support of Requiem.
With Sylvia's guild assisting us, Zain and I had a major advantage against the Grotesques. This meant additional support beyond just Xander—wherever the hell that guy was and whatever he was doing in Levinton these days. This was a win.
But not for Alina.
She stood up abruptly and slammed a hand onto Sylvia's desk. The impact made a sharp thud, the papers on the surface trembling slightly.
"What kind of sick joke is this?" she demanded, her voice sharp and cold.
Sylvia merely sighed, as if she had been expecting this reaction.
Alina's glare was unwavering. "You, of all people, would never make a decision like this. You don't help two parties unless there's something in it for you. So tell me—what's your real angle?"
Sylvia shook her head, her expression unreadable. "I just feel generous. It won't hurt."
Alina scoffed. "It won't hurt? If you focus on both objectives—helping Levi and assisting me in finding that person—you won't have enough members to succeed in either. Both sides will suffer badly."
Sylvia remained composed, dismissing her concerns with a casual wave of her hand. "That won't be the case. It'll be fine."
Alina's dark eyes narrowed, and in that instant, the air in the room grew heavy.
She spoke, her voice lower now—colder.
"I did not win or lose that fight," she said, every word slow and precise. "And this right now feels like pity to me. I would rather have both of us receive nothing than accept your pity, Sylvia."
The room fell silent.
Even I didn't have a comeback for that one.
Sylvia's expression faltered slightly, as if even she hadn't expected Alina to outright refuse the deal.
Then, Alina leaned in slightly, her eyes unreadable, but carrying a weight that even I could feel.
"Sylvia, I have known you for years." Her voice was now nothing more than a whisper laced with something unsettling. "Tell me honestly… Who is influencing you to help Levi?"
Sylvia didn't respond.
She just sat there, quiet.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of my neck.
This girl was either too egotistical or insane.
I think both, really.
Sylvia let out a small chuckle, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Well, you caught on, Alina."
Alina's gaze sharpened instantly. "Who is influencing you?"
Sylvia shook her head, her amusement lingering. "Nobody, really. I just had a close visitor who left a good impression on me—enough to be kind toward him and you."
Alina's eyes darkened slightly. "Who?"
Sylvia simply smiled. "I can't tell you that."
Alina remained quiet, but I could tell she was getting more irritated by the second. Not that her expression gave anything away—her face was still that same cold, perfect mask, untouched by emotion.
Then, suddenly, her eyes shifted to me.
"You're seriously fine having this pity?"
I smirked, resting my elbow on the chair's armrest. "You're acting like it's a bad thing."
"It is a bad thing," she said, voice unwavering. "Neither of us won. A draw is a failure, and failures don't get rewarded."
I leaned forward slightly, tilting my head. "Or maybe a draw just means we were too evenly matched to determine a winner. Not a loss—just too close to call."
Alina's gaze didn't waver. "You and I are Sword Saints. A fight between us should not end in uncertainty. The fact that it did means I failed to decisively defeat you. That is unacceptable."
I scoffed. "You say 'unacceptable' like it's a crime. Maybe you just expected too much of yourself."
She shook her head. "You don't understand, Levi. To me, a draw means I was too weak to win yet too competent to lose. That is the worst possible outcome. It means I hesitated. It means I wasn't enough."
Her words were blunt, but I could hear the weight behind them.
I rolled my eyes. "Come on. Look at the upside—we both get what we wanted. I get Requiem's help against the Grotesques, and you get whatever it is you wanted from Sylvia."
Alina didn't even flinch. "I would rather receive nothing than be given something I didn't earn."
Then, she turned back to Sylvia, her tone sharper than before.
"I won't accept this bargain."
Sylvia's small smirk faded as she exhaled through her nose.
Alina continued, her voice unwavering. "I don't need your help. Nor do I want the guild assisting Celestial Apex."
I blinked.
What?
I turned to her, fully expecting her to be joking, but no—she was serious.
Sylvia sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Very well," she said, her tone carrying an air of disappointment. "Then I won't provide either of you the upheld part of the deal."
I felt my jaw tighten.
"No, no, hold on," I said, leaning forward, trying to make her reconsider. "You agreed, Sylvia. You offered to help. What, you're just throwing it all away because she refuses?"
Sylvia gave me a calm but firm look. "Alina is also a leader of this guild, Levi. If she refuses the deal for herself, I can't force her to accept it. That's not how I run things."
I clenched my fists. "Are you kidding me? We're talking about people's lives here! You're seriously just letting Alina dictate this?!"
Sylvia didn't waver. "I gave both of you a choice. She made hers."
My anger flared. "This isn't just her choice! Do you not realize how many people will suffer because of this?! We need every bit of support we can get against the Grotesques, and you're telling me you can't just argue with her about it?!"
Silence.
Then, Alina's voice cut through the room like ice.
"Why don't you just get strong enough to save your people alone?" She tilted her head slightly, her stare devoid of anything remotely human. "Self-claimed strongest."
My teeth clenched as I slowly turned my head toward her.
"You're really talking big for someone who got through that fight on mock luck," I shot back, my voice dripping with cold amusement. "That draw wasn't skill—it was just a girl barely pulling through."
Her expression didn't change. But something in the air felt heavier.
Sylvia let out a long sigh as she reached into a drawer, retrieving something from within. "I expected this, Alina. I can't lie. You've always been prideful over a loss."
Alina's cold gaze didn't waver. "You're one to talk," she replied, her voice void of warmth. "You wouldn't lift a finger to help someone whose life was at risk unless there was something in it for you. And yet, you're willing to risk your guild members' lives to assist Levi's fight against the Grotesques. Explain the contradiction."
Sylvia smiled and shook her head, her amusement evident. "I can't deny it, Alina. Over the years, you've learned how I operate." She leaned forward, resting her chin against her hand. "But tell me honestly—do you really not want to help Levi?"
Alina's reply was immediate, sharp, and unwavering. "Risking my members' lives for a conflict that doesn't concern me is a fool's gamble. Their loyalty is to me, not to some external war I have no stakes in. I refuse to play hero for strangers. If Requiem suffers losses, we gain nothing in return. There is no logic in sacrificing our strength for a battle that does not belong to us."
Sylvia let out an amused sigh. "You're being childish."
Alina's expression remained unchanging, but there was an unmistakable edge in her glare. "Nothing in this world could convince me to send my members to fight, Sylvia."
I stayed silent, disappointment sinking in. Zain was right—the odds of getting Alina to agree were practically zero. And Sylvia… she wasn't even trying to push back against her.
Just as I was about to give up, Sylvia suddenly chuckled, louder this time.
"Oh, really, Alina? Nothing can get you to agree?"
Alina didn't hesitate. "No amount of wealth, favors, requests, or pleading would convince me to risk my guild for strangers I don't know."
That was the final straw for me. I clenched my fists and exhaled sharply. "That's cruel," I said, shaking my head. "Would your master approve of this if he were here, Alina?"
For the first time, something in her changed.
A flicker of something dangerous flashed in her eyes. Her aura sharpened, a suffocating pressure filling the room.
"Don't speak of him as if you knew him," she said, her voice laced with quiet fury. Her tone was so cold it made my skin prickle. "Watch your tone, Levi."
I was caught off guard. I had been angry already, but now my frustration was clawing at my patience. Still, I knew better than to let my emotions dictate my actions. Instead, I simply stood up, exhaling sharply.
"Whatever," I muttered, turning toward the door. "I'm done here."
But just as I was about to leave—
"Levi."
Sylvia's voice called out to me.
I turned around, confused. Alina also glanced at her, her usual detached expression tinged with curiosity.
Sylvia smirked and pulled out an envelope from the drawer, holding it between two fingers.
"You were wondering who made such a good impression on me, weren't you?"
Alina's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes. Who was it? And what's with that letter?"
Sylvia let out a quiet chuckle, seemingly amused with herself. She spun the envelope between her fingers before extending it toward Alina.
"It's for you."
Alina's brows furrowed slightly. "Why me?"
Sylvia's smirk didn't waver. "If he wanted it delivered to you specifically, then it must be important."
For a brief moment, Alina didn't move. Then, with a sigh, she took the letter, opening it with an uninterested expression.
I leaned back against the wall, crossing my arms, already convinced this was a waste of time.
What a joke. I had traveled all the way to Sylvaris just to leave empty-handed. If I had won, I would've secured Requiem's support without issue. I never expected Alina herself to fight against the Grotesques—her cold heart wouldn't allow for something so selfless. But at the very least, I had hoped the members could be arranged to fight under Sylvia's command.
That chance was gone now.
I let out a breath and looked toward Alina, half-expecting her to discard the letter in boredom. But then—
I froze.
What the hell?
She was smiling.
My mind blanked.
Alina—who had shown zero expressions during our entire fight, throughout this entire conversation, and every second I had spent with her—was now smiling.
And not just that—was she blushing?!
She clutched the letter a little tighter, her fingers trembling slightly, as if she was holding onto something precious.
Then, suddenly, she turned her gaze toward me.
"Levi," she called out.
I blinked. "Uh… what?"
"Where are you going?"
I was still too stunned to process anything. "L-Levinton," I said, my voice stuttering slightly. "I'm done here, so—"
"I'm coming with you," Alina said, cutting me off.
My brain short-circuited. "W-what?"
Her expression had returned to its usual seriousness, but something about her demeanor was different—softer, maybe? No… determined.
"Requiem will provide full assistance at a legacy level to help you, Levi."
I felt my entire world tilt.
What?
What the hell did she just say?
I was dumbfounded—shocked—beyond shocked.
What the hell did she read in that letter that made her agree to help us? And not just with her guild—she was coming herself?!
This… this wasn't just an unexpected turn. This was like the game had been rigged in my favor at the last second.
I was still trying to make sense of it all when I heard her murmur something under her breath, barely above a whisper.
Her fingers clutched the letter tightly against her chest near her heart, her expression warm in a way I had never seen before.
"You came… Master."
She smiled—fully, happily.
And just like that—
Everything flipped upside down.
Requiem's full assistance.
Alina, personally joining the fight.
A completely impossible outcome turned into a winning move.
My thoughts spiraled.
Either I was ridiculously lucky—
Or someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes.
Unknown Perspective:
4/9/2017 - Evening 2:38 Pm
I yawn into my hand, barely covering my mouth, watching the crowd around me shift with quiet anticipation. The air was thick with tension—each person standing here looked like they were about to walk into a fight, stiff shoulders, clenched fists, the works.
Me? I was just here for the show.
Levinton was nice this time of year. The streets had that polished, almost picturesque charm that made it obvious why people loved this town. The buildings stood tall, each one detailed with intricate carvings and stonework, but the heart of it all was Celestial Apex Guild.
They were the ones who put out the call. Some big mission, supposedly needing all the extra hands they could get. Adventurers, mercenaries, even nobodies off the street were answering the summons.
Poor guys. Must be desperate.
As I let the thought amuse me, my eyes landed on the man next to me—mid-twenties, maybe? Shorter than me, dark hair, black eyes. He was sweating. Just barely, but enough.
I smirked. Easy target.
"Hey, you good there?" I asked, tilting my head slightly, my voice light, casual—just enough to slip under his guard.
He blinked, turning to me, looking like he wasn't sure if he should answer. "Uh—yeah. Just… waiting, like you."
"Like me?" I let out a chuckle, shoving my hands into my coat pockets. "Nah, man, you're all stiff like you're about to be sent to war. Relax a little. We haven't even started yet."
He exhaled through his nose, visibly trying to ease his shoulders, but failing. "Guess I'm just nervous. Don't know what we're getting into yet."
I nodded, acting thoughtful. "Yeah, mystery's a killer, huh? I mean, it could be some boring patrol job, or it could be an absolute nightmare where we all get torn to shreds. Fifty-fifty shot, really."
His eyes widened a fraction. "You're not helping."
I grinned. "I'm kidding. Mostly. C'mon, what's your name?"
He hesitated before answering, like giving me his name was some kind of tactical risk. "Isaac."
"Isaac," I repeated, rolling the name around in my mouth before nodding in approval. "Nice. Sounds solid. So, Isaac, what's got you signing up for this?"
"Needed the money," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "Been doing merc work for a while, figured this was a good opportunity."
"Merc work, huh? Makes sense. You look like the reliable type." I gave him a casual pat on the back, like we were old pals. "And here I was thinking you were some fresh-faced rookie about to puke from the nerves."
Isaac let out a small, reluctant chuckle. "Thanks. I think."
"Hey, I call it like I see it." I extended a hand to him.
"I'm Arius. Let's get along, yeah?"
He looked at my hand, then at me. For a second, I thought he might hesitate again, but then he reached out and shook it. His grip was firm, like he was trying to prove something.
"Yeah," Isaac said. "Let's."
The tension in his shoulders loosened just a bit. Good.
I took a step back, eyeing him up and down. "Dark hair, black eyes, a little on the shorter side—what, about five-eight?"
Isaac frowned slightly. "Five-nine."
I snorted. "Sure, if you're counting the boots. I'm six-one, so trust me, I know when someone's shorter."
He rolled his eyes, but there was amusement under it now. "You always this chatty?"
"Only when I like someone," I shot back with a smirk.
I adjusted my coat, feeling the weight of the long black fabric settle around me. High collar, fingerless gloves—practical and stylish, if I said so myself. As I grinned to myself, someone finally stepped forward from the front of the gathering, clearing their throat.
"Attention, all of you!"
I glanced up lazily.
The guy at the front looked serious—tall, scarred, clearly someone with authority. He eyed the crowd before speaking again.
"My name is Zain."
And just like that, the game began.
Zain stood firm at the front, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd before him. He didn't rush to speak. Instead, he let the silence settle, deliberate and heavy. A few of the more anxious ones shifted where they stood, but no one dared break the moment.
Good. He knew how to command attention.
Then, he spoke.
"You're all here because you were called—because Levinton needs warriors, not weak-hearted men looking for easy coin. If you stand before me, you are already above the rest. But let me make one thing clear."
He let his words hang, pacing slightly, his expression unreadable. Then, he smirked.
"You'll be paid handsomely… if you live."
Murmurs spread through the group, a few exchanging wary glances.
"But that's the cost of standing against what lurks in the dark," Zain continued, voice sharp, steady. "You've all heard of the grotesques. You've fought them, perhaps. Some of you might even think you've seen their worst."
He stopped walking, his expression turning cold.
"You haven't."
A few in the back stiffened.
Then, a voice rang out, rough and skeptical.
"What do you mean, 'fought grotesques'?"
The speaker was a broad-shouldered man, wearing iron-knuckled gloves, his face hardened with suspicion.
Zain turned his gaze to him. "I mean exactly what I said. We don't need a few dead monsters. We need them exterminated before they exterminate us."
A heavier silence fell.
"The grotesques aren't just lurking in the forests anymore," Zain continued, his voice carrying weight. "We have reason to believe they're preparing for something bigger. A raid. And their target?" He glanced around the gathered men. "Levinton."
A few sharp breaths. The tension turned suffocating.
"That's ridiculous!" Another man barked, stepping forward. He had black hair, scars running along his arms, the kind of guy who had seen his fair share of fights. "If you knew this, why aren't there guards on the borders?! Why aren't there defenses?! I walked through the damn gates, and I didn't see a single barricade, not a single extra soldier—"
More voices joined in, demanding answers.
Zain remained impassive. "That's not important."
He knew the truth—he couldn't reinforce the town, not with the blackmail Aldric had on him. But he wouldn't say that.
Instead, he stepped forward, his voice regaining its commanding tone.
"This fight is not about the walls we could put up. It's about the lives we can protect. Yes, it's dangerous. Yes, it may cost you. But you will be rewarded. And more than that—" He let his gaze sweep across them. "You'll be saving people who cannot fight for themselves."
The men remained quiet, uncertain.
"Any of you who have the spine for it—step forward. Stand on this guild floor next to me, and prepare to earn your pay. Or," his eyes darkened slightly, "you can walk away. Nobody will stop you. But if you're too much of a coward to fight, don't waste my time."
The tension exploded.
A man in the back, face pale, raised his voice, panic lacing his words. "Are you insane?! A grotesque can take on five D-Rank adventurers alone! How the hell are we supposed to survive against an entire horde?!"
Others muttered in agreement. A few took uneasy steps back, clearly reconsidering.
Even Isaac, who had relaxed earlier because of me, was suddenly stiff with fear. I glanced at him.
He wasn't just scared for himself. No, that wasn't it.
It was something deeper. The kind of fear a man has when he thinks about the people waiting for him to return.
A lover? Family? Someone who needed him?
The panic spread through the crowd like wildfire, everyone losing their nerve, murmuring among themselves. Some had already turned to leave.
I sighed.
Then, I reached into my overcoat pocket.
Click.
The sharp sound of my lighter flicking open cut through the noise, making heads turn.
The golden casing gleamed under the sun, its engraved tactical symbols catching the light as I held it up.
Silence.
Even Zain's sharp eyes shifted toward me.
With my left hand, I pulled a cigarette from my back pocket, placed it between my lips, and casually brought the flame to its tip.
Flick.
The soft crackle of the burning tobacco was the only sound as I took a slow drag. Then, exhaling smoke through my nose, I stepped forward.
One step.
Another.
Alone, walking toward Zain.
I could feel every gaze on me, their breath held, their hesitation screaming. I let them watch. Let them feel the weight of their own inaction.
Zain arched a brow, smirking slightly. "Smoker, huh?"
I shook my head, exhaling another wisp of smoke. "Just a stress reliever."
Then, I turned my gaze toward Isaac.
I didn't speak. Just gave him a slow, knowing nod.
He hesitated, swallowing hard. His fingers twitched at his sides, but after a moment—he stepped forward.
I smirked. Good.
The others remained frozen. Cowards, still clinging to their doubts.
I took a long drag, letting the smoke linger before releasing it in a slow breath. Then, with a mockingly casual tone, I spoke.
"So that's it, huh?" I let my eyes drift lazily over the remaining men. "A bunch of grown men, afraid of a few insects?" I chuckled, shaking my head. "Maybe you should all just go running back to your mothers. I'm sure they'll keep you safe in their laps."
Instant rage.
A few of them bristled, some glaring at me with clenched fists.
But none stepped forward.
I smirked, taking another drag. "Thought so."
Then, I exhaled and spoke again—louder.
"If you really think you deserve to call yourself a man, then step up. Prove it. Or stay there, where it's safe, and pretend you never heard this conversation."
Silence.
Then, one man gritted his teeth, stepping forward.
Then another.
One by one, more followed.
Soon, the hesitation crumbled, and the men—driven by nothing but the need to prove themselves—stood at my side.
I smirked, taking another slow drag, letting the smoke drift lazily into the sky.
These poor fools.
They had no idea they were just walking into the slaughter.
"All the men that have chosen to fight, you are truly worthy of my praise, but not my respect yet. Prove yourselves, and maybe, I'll grant you that. For now, you're all part of guest rank in the Celestial Apex."
I can feel the tension in the air as everyone listens closely to his words. They're hanging on every syllable, hoping for some form of approval.
As for me, I'm sitting in the back, cigarette in hand, unfazed. A cloud of smoke rises, twisting around me, but it doesn't bother me.
Nothing does.
Zain doesn't waste any time. He carries on, "It will risk your lives, cause you fear and trauma, maybe even wound you permanently. Am I clear that it can change your lives forever?"
A flicker of unease spreads through the crowd. I see a few of them flinch, their eyes narrowing with apprehension.
It's predictable, really. Fear is always the first thing that creeps in when you realize what's at stake. But me?
I'm already beyond all that. Another drag, another wave of smoke rolls from my lips. I stay quiet, the smirk never leaving my face.
Zain's gaze locks onto me. He points with an exaggerated motion, almost theatrically. "You there. Do you fear death? Do you fear knowing you can die at any moment? That death waits at your doorstep?"
I pull the cigarette away from my mouth, letting the smoke escape with a lazy exhale.
My eyes flicker to Zain, then back to the smoke swirling around me. My voice is calm, but the words hang heavy in the air.
"You can't kill someone or scare them with death when..." I let the silence linger, long enough to make everyone feel uncomfortable, before I finish, "When they're already dead from inside."
The effect is immediate. The tension shifts—less fear, more curiosity, maybe even some unease. Zain smirks, but it's more of a mocking expression than a real one.
He praises me sarcastically, his tone dripping with a blend of amusement and annoyance.
I don't react. I just continue to smoke, my eyes never leaving his. He doesn't know what I'm capable of, and maybe that's why he's irritated.
"Alright," Zain says, his voice taking on a more commanding tone, "You all can rest or do whatever you want now. Dismissed. I'll call you tomorrow for training and planning on the grotesques."
The others follow suit, preparing to leave. Zain's sharp gaze finds me once more before he exits, his eyes narrowing like he's still weighing me, trying to figure out just what game I'm playing.
But as he walks out, his expression says it all—surprise and annoyance, mixed into one. It's the same look he always gives me. The one that tells me, despite his respect, I still get under his skin. I like that. It means I'm in control, even if he's too proud to admit it.
I turned to Isaac, who was standing there, shoulders tense, eyes distant. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his back, his mind racing through every possible worst-case scenario. A sigh escaped my lips, and I clapped him on the back with a firm, reassuring pat.
"Hey, Isaac," I said, voice light, but there was an edge of seriousness in it. "Ease up a bit, yeah? You look like you're about to implode. How about we take a walk? Get some fresh air. The forest's just up ahead."
He hesitated, eyes flickering as he looked at me, probably weighing whether he could afford to relax for even a minute. I knew how he was. Too responsible. Too worried. Too afraid of making a wrong move.
After a brief moment, Isaac gave a reluctant nod, his stiff posture softening just a little. "I don't know, Arius... I should probably stay focused." His voice was thick with that constant concern.
I gave him a pointed look. "You won't do anyone any good if you're on the edge. Trust me, the forest isn't going anywhere. Let's walk, breathe, and reset. You can be tense tomorrow."
Isaac let out a long breath, and after a second, his shoulders sagged slightly. "Fine," he muttered, "but just a short walk."
"Good man," I said, grinning as I started walking toward the edge of the camp, where the trees loomed. "Fresh air will do wonders for that brain of yours."
He followed behind, not quite as fast as I was moving, but I could tell the gears in his mind were slowing down. I could almost see the weight lifting off him with each step he took.
I let the cigarette dangle from my fingers, the glowing tip burning red in the dark as we walked deeper into the forest. The air was crisp, cool against my skin, and the sound of the leaves crunching beneath our boots echoed softly in the day.
Isaac was beside me, his pace slower than usual. I couldn't tell if it was the weight of the day's training or the pressure of everything hanging over us, but there was a tension in him tonight.
"Honestly, Arius," he muttered, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. "You're gonna kill yourself with that thing." He nodded toward the cigarette I was puffing on.
I blew out a cloud of smoke, watching it curl into the air before it vanished into the night. "Oh, please," I said, with a chuckle. "I've been doing this for.... years. If it was gonna kill me, I think it would've happened by now."
He snorted, but there was a hint of concern in his voice. "That's not how that works. You're one step away from turning into a walking bonfire."
"Maybe I like it that way," I teased, tapping the ash off the end and watching it flutter to the ground. "It keeps things... interesting."
Isaac's laugh was soft but genuine, and I could see the tension in his shoulders start to ease a little. "You're an idiot."
"Thanks for noticing," I said, grinning. "I do try to stand out."
The forest felt different beautiful—peaceful, like the world was holding its breath. As we walked further, the sound of the river started to fill the silence between us, a soothing rhythm that seemed to calm the nerves and soften the sharp edges of our conversation.
We reached the riverbank without either of us saying much, but I could feel Isaac's eyes on me as I took a few steps closer to the water. The sunlight reflected off the surface, turning it into a shimmering mirror.
Isaac stopped a few feet behind me, his voice quieter now, like he was trying to make sense of something. "It's beautiful," he said, almost under his breath.
I took another drag from my cigarette, letting the embers glow. The light flickered in the stillness, casting faint shadows across my face. "Yeah, it is. Something about the quiet makes everything clearer, doesn't it?"
Isaac stayed silent for a moment, his gaze still fixed on the river. I could tell he was thinking about something, probably his family, maybe even loved ones. It wasn't hard to read him, even though he tried to hide it.
"I don't know how you do it," he said suddenly, the words coming out a little too fast. "Just... step in, like that."
I raised an eyebrow, glancing over my shoulder at him. "What do you mean?"
"You just—" He gestured to the river, his voice a little uncertain. "You just walked in, without a second thought. I mean, the water's cold, and it's dangerous out here. The others—"
"They were just nervous," I interrupted with a shrug, flicking some more ash into the water. "They act like stepping in means something. But it doesn't. It's just water. Everyone makes it seem like you need a reason to do something so simple."
Isaac nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as he watched me. "I guess I wouldn't be so quick to jump in like that. Guess I've got too much to lose."
I couldn't help but laugh softly. "You're too cautious. It's good, though. Keeps you alive. But sometimes you gotta take a step—just to see what happens."
He turned to face me then, his eyes narrowing. "You're not worried about anything? Not even... well, you know?"
I exhaled, letting the smoke linger a little longer this time before I spoke. "Of course I'm worried. I'm just better at hiding it."
Isaac looked at me for a long time, studying my face. I could feel the weight of his gaze, but I didn't flinch. He probably thought I had all the answers. Most people did.
Finally, Isaac broke the silence with a small laugh, shaking his head. "You really are something else, you know that?"
"Yeah, I've been told," I said, smirking. "But I'm not as special as you think."
We both stood there for a moment, listening to the soft murmur of the river, the steady rhythm of our breaths, and the faint rustle of the leaves. The tension had completely melted away now, replaced by something lighter—something almost... friendly.
"I don't get you," Isaac said, shaking his head again. "You're not like anyone I've met. You make everything seem so easy."
"It's not easy," I replied, my voice quieter now. "I just make it look that way."
Isaac's smile was small but sincere. "Well, whatever you're doing, it's working."
"Yeah," I said, shrugging. "Maybe."
The air felt easier now, like the world had decided to let us breathe for a moment. Isaac and I didn't have to say much more. We both knew where we stood, what we were fighting for, and what we wanted. And somehow, in the silence between us, we both understood the weight of it all.
Suddenly there was a loud explosion sound.
I paused, my eyes catching something in the distance—something off. The sounds were strange, unfamiliar—like iron clashing against iron, punctuated by the sharp, steady rhythm of magic. It wasn't training, not by the usual standards. It sounded more… dangerous.
Isaac must have noticed the shift in my attention because he leaned in, his voice low. "What's that noise?" His gaze darted toward the source. "It's like… fighting? Or some sort of crazy training."
I nodded, already taking steps toward the noise. The curiosity gnawed at me—something about it felt too interesting to ignore.
"You're not seriously thinking of going over there alone, are you?" Isaac's tone sharpened, worry creeping into his voice. "It could be a grotesque. You don't know what's waiting over there."
I glanced over my shoulder, a smirk forming as I exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Doesn't really matter, Isaac. I'll have to face one of those things sooner or later. Besides, I'm intrigued by the noise. Might be something worth seeing."
Isaac gave a frustrated sigh but reluctantly followed me, his feet dragging as we walked closer to the sounds.
As we neared the clearing, I caught sight of her—her. A girl, not older than a few years but younger than me, her white hair flowing around her like a wild cloud. Her red eyes burned with intensity, the cursed magic swirling around her as she attacked.
The chains wrapped around her back, emerging like tendrils of some dark beast. She lashed them out, cutting a massive tree in half, the force of her strike splitting the trunk like it was nothing. But that wasn't the end. As the tree began to fall, she released a fireball from her hand, hitting it mid-air, the explosion a burst of raw power that sent embers scattering through the air.
I couldn't help but watch, my grin spreading wider. She was relentless—exhausted but still pushing herself, still training as if nothing else mattered but her strength. Her body was a testament to willpower, refusing to stop despite how obvious the toll it was taking on her.
I threw my cigarette into the river, watching it disappear as my attention stayed firmly on her. She was mesmerizing. The way she moved, the way her magic twisted through the air—it was a dance of destruction, and I was captivated.
But just as I started to move toward her, Isaac grabbed my arm, jerking me back behind a nearby tree.
"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed, his grip tight on my arm. "Don't go near her."
I frowned, trying to pull away. "Why not? What's the worst that could happen?"
Isaac's eyes widened, disbelief flickering across his face. "What do you mean, 'what's the worst that could happen'? Don't you see? She—she's not just some random girl."
His voice dropped lower, his words coming out with a sense of urgency. "That's her. The cursed girl. The one who's the reincarnation of the Queen of Curses. She took countless lives 500 years ago. She's dangerous, Arius. You don't understand what you're getting into."
I pushed him off, stepping out from behind the tree to peer at her from the distance, still smiling like I hadn't heard a word he said.
"I saw her," I said casually, my gaze flicking back to him, "She's beautiful, pretty, and I'd say... hot in that black dress. The way she moves is… well, it's something else."
Isaac looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Are you stupid or just dumb?"
I gave him a lazy look. "Come on, Isaac, don't be such a buzzkill. I'm just admiring the view."
Isaac exhaled in exasperation. "You're a damn fool. You're seriously going to keep looking? Do you even know what you're dealing with?"
I smirked, my gaze never leaving her. "What's her name?"
Isaac looked confused for a second before answering, "Uh... I don't know exactly, but the guys around the guild were talking about her. They mentioned 'Celia' or something like that. She's been training like this for days now."
My grin widened. Celia. That name fit her. I watched as her white hair swirled around her, shining under the sun. Her red eyes, sharp and intimidating, might have been dangerous in another context, but here, they were just... majestic. Her dress, simple but striking, made her look almost unreal as she continued to train.
"Celia..." I repeated under my breath, the word feeling almost like a promise.
Isaac snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Arius! Are you even listening to me?! If you stare too long she'll come and kill you!"
I gave him a bored look. "It's fine. If she comes over here and kills me, at least I'll be kissing her while she does."
Isaac blinked, completely dumbfounded. "What?!"
I grinned wider, enjoying the effect I was having. "It's fine, really. Go ahead and leave, Isaac. I'll stay here. I'm sure I'll be fine."
Isaac looked like he was about to say something more, but then he just... didn't. Instead, he shook his head and walked off, muttering something under his breath.
As he disappeared into the distance, I sat down, leaning against the tree, keeping my eyes locked on Celia. Her determination, the way she fought through her exhaustion—everything about her drew me in.
And for some reason, I couldn't look away.
I watched her again, completely entranced by the way she moved—fluid, dangerous, and mesmerizing. She had this energy about her, a force that seemed to draw everything around her into orbit. Her body was a weapon, her cursed magic flowing out like it was part of her—an extension of her own will. The way her red eyes tracked every movement, the way they sparked with determination—it was intoxicating.
I smirked to myself, the thought coming unbidden.
Red was always my favorite color.
Her sweat-drenched skin glistened under the sun, her breath coming in heavy gasps. She was exhausted. But she didn't stop. She didn't give up. That kind of resolve? It was like a challenge I could never resist.
I leaned forward, my hand resting thoughtfully on my chin as I observed her. The way she moved, even in exhaustion, was something else. She was beautiful, strong, relentless—everything I wanted in a person. But more than that... I wanted her. For myself.
I just want to stare at her...
Maybe keep her for myself, lock her away in a cage, something where no one else could look at her but me. It would be perfect, wouldn't it? Her delicate form, her untouchable beauty... just for me. I'd be the only one who gets to see that. No one else.
I chuckled darkly to myself.
Yeah. That would be nice. So nice...
As she continued to train, pushing herself despite the obvious fatigue, I thought about what would happen if she ever tried to leave.
I could hold her. Hold her tightly, never letting her go. She wouldn't leave. Not while she's sleeping in my arms. She'd be mine. My Celia. For my liking.
And if she ever thought of running away... well, I could make sure that doesn't happen. I'd make her stay with me.
Even if that meant cutting her into small pieces, putting her in a box. I'd carry her with me. Always. She'd never be far from me, never able to escape.
I smiled as the thought passed through my mind, my face showing nothing but innocence, the kind of smile that could make people think I was just a charming, playful guy. But inside, there was nothing innocent about it.
I've always been direct about what I want.
And now, I knew exactly what I wanted.
I looked at her again, wiping the sweat from her forehead, her breath coming in ragged bursts. The sheer determination on her face made something dark and powerful stir within me. She was everything I'd ever wanted.
I want her.
And in return? I'd give her the entire world.
Just as long as she was mine.
Alone.
Forever.