Chapter 173: Chapter 173: Residual Wounds And Schemes

​Three days after Dola finally opened her eyes, Castle Zero began to breathe with a different kind of life. Now, there were footsteps echoing through the corridors. The clatter of plates drifted from the kitchen. Faint laughter bubbled up from the rear courtyard.

​But inside the Medical Room, time still moved with a leaden pace.

​Dayat sat in the same chair, though his posture had shifted. He was no longer hunched with the jagged tension of three days ago. His shoulders were relaxed, his back resting against the frame, but his hand remained exactly where it had been: anchored to Dola’s.

​Dola lay on the bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. They were no longer glazed or distant; her focus had returned. Her breathing was rhythmic, and the ghostly pallor of her skin had begun to fade, even if she wasn’t yet the picture of health.

​”Master,” she said, her voice soft but missing the rasp of the previous day. “You are still here.”

​”I’m still here.”

​”You still haven’t bathed.”

​Dayat let out a short chuckle. “You’re nagging me about that again?”

​”Because it is a fact.” Dola turned her head, her eyes locking onto his. “I can smell you from here. My olfactory system has recovered to eighty percent. You smell of sweat, medicinal salves, and… something I cannot identify.”

​”That’s coffee.”

​”Coffee does not smell like that.”

​”It’s the Aethera version. Those local beans you found a while back. Lunethra brewed it.”

​The mention of Lunethra’s name made Dola fall silent for a heartbeat. Her gaze drifted back to the ceiling. “She was the one who prepared the tea for me.”

​”Yeah.”

​”And the soup.”

​”Yes.”

​”And the bread.”

​”Yes, Dol. She cooked everything.”

​Dola didn’t reply immediately. Her fingers, still entwined with Dayat’s, twitched slightly. It wasn’t the searching movement from before; it was… restlessness.

​”I do not like it,” she whispered finally.

​”You don’t like what?”

​”That she cared for you while I could not.”

​Dayat sighed. “Dol, she took care of both of us. Without her, I probably would’ve starved to death in here.”

​”I am aware.” Dola’s voice was small. “But I still do not like it.”

​Dayat didn’t argue. He had learned long ago that when it came to these matters, Dola was non-negotiable. His wife was an entity who had once been a goddess and a harbinger, with a logic capable of processing millions of data points in an instant—yet when it came to jealousy, she was as fragile as any human.

​”I’ll shower later,” Dayat said eventually. “But right now, I need to gather the others.”

​Dola turned back to him. “For what?”

​”An evaluation. We’ve been down for too long. I need to know where everyone stands. The castle, too. You’re still weak, and our defenses are thin. We can’t keep going like this.”

​Dola stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, she attempted to push herself up.

​”Dol—”

​”Help me sit up.”

​Dayat hesitated, but he knew there was no use forbidding her. He reached for her shoulders, carefully assisting her until she was propped against the pillows. He moved with extreme caution, as if handling something immensely precious and brittle.

​Dola caught her breath, her eyes fluttering shut for a second before opening with renewed resolve. “I want to be part of this.”

​”You’re still weak.”

​”I know. But I want to see them. I want to hear it for myself.”

​Dayat looked into her eyes and saw something he couldn’t refuse. It wasn’t authority or a threat; it was a simple, raw desire to be involved. To not be left alone in this room again.

​”Fine,” Dayat conceded. “But you stay in the chair. No walking.”

​”I do not plan on walking. I only wish to sit by your side.”

​The Heart of Logic felt different that afternoon.

​Usually, the chamber was hollow—just Dayat sitting on the throne occasionally, or Dola standing beside him. But today, the room was full.

​Kancil stood to the left, near the door. His dark blue jacket had been laundered—thanks to Lunethra—and his brown hair was slightly neater than usual. Beside him, Loy and Riri stood with awkward postures, still unaccustomed to the sheer grandeur of the Heart of Logic. The black walls with their pulsing violet circuits, the obsidian floor reflecting the dim light, and the high ceiling with its slowly drifting binary panels—to Loy and Riri, it all felt like a dream.

​On the right side, Lunethra stood with her arms folded across her chest. Her green gown was clean, her silver hair tied back. Her face was calm, but her eyes were slightly puffy—perhaps from lack of sleep, or perhaps from tears shed in private. No one asked.

​Dalgor stood near the control console. The old dwarf could now walk on his own, though he still carried a slight limp. His beard was combed, and his clothes had been swapped for fresh ones. He held a manifestation tablet—a gift from Dayat—displaying the castle’s system data.

​And in the center of the room, before the throne, Dayat stood. Beside him, Dola sat in a chair specially moved from the Medical Room, her white cape draped around her weakened frame. Her electric-blue eyes glowed faintly as she scanned every face in the room.

​”I won’t make this long,” Dayat began. “We’re all exhausted. But I need to know exactly where we stand.”

​He turned to Dalgor. “Dalgor, start with you.”

​Dalgor nodded. He lifted the tablet, his thick, stubby fingers tapping the screen with practiced care.

​”The castle’s defense systems,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “Energy shields are at thirty percent. Auto-cannons: offline. Sensors: active, but the radius is limited—only five kilometers. The main reactor is still in sleep mode. We’re running on reserves.”

​Dayat nodded slowly. “What do you need to boost those numbers?”

​”Time. And materials.” Dalgor looked up at Dayat. “The main reactor needs pure Mana Crystals to be jumpstarted. The auto-cannons need a full recalibration—Dola knows the protocols best. Sensors can be expanded, but they require additional power.”

​”How long, assuming we have all the materials?”

​”A week. Maybe two.”

​Dayat glanced at Dola. She gave a small nod. “I can assist with the calibration. But I will need energy.”

​”You won’t be working alone. Dalgor will handle the panels; you just provide the directions.” Dayat turned back to Dalgor. “What else?”

​”Pure Mana Crystals. Medium size, three units. Conductor cables—your manifestation can substitute for those. And…” Dalgor hesitated. “Adamantite. Just a small amount. For the reactor core.”

​Dayat raised his right hand. His fingers spread, then curled inward. In the empty air before his palm, a small ripple appeared—like the surface of water being touched. The ripple glowed a toxic violet-green, spinning slowly before expanding. From within the rift, a blade emerged.

​Silver Thorn.

​The Adamantite sword remained in its original form. The silver blade shimmered, its hilt etched with ancient engravings, wrapped in the same tattered cloth from Terragard.

​The manifestation dimension—the place where he stored items that weren’t his own creations. Silver Thorn was one of them.

​”I have Adamantite,” Dayat said. “Silver Thorn. I can use a portion of it.”

​”That is a relic blade.” Dalgor stared at it. “Are you certain, Master?”

​”The sword is just an object. This castle is our home.” Dayat met Dalgor’s gaze. “I’ll take what’s needed. The rest will remain a weapon.”

​Dalgor nodded, accepting the decision.

​Dayat then turned to Kancil. “Kancil. You, Loy, Riri. What’s your status?”

​Kancil straightened his posture. “I’m ready, Brother. Routine training. Shooting, climbing, hiding. Everything is according to what you taught me.”

​”Loy?”

​Loy flinched slightly, surprised to be addressed. “I—I’m still practicing, Master. My marksmanship isn’t as good as Kancil’s yet. But I’m trying.”

​Dayat nodded. “Riri?”

​Riri answered immediately, her voice small but rapid-fire. “I can hit three bottles in a row now, Master! Kancil taught me. I can also climb the castle walls now. Really fast!”

​Dayat allowed a faint smile. “Good.”

​He looked at the three children in turn. Kancil, once just a scrawny street kid, now stood with broad shoulders and alert eyes. Loy, whose body still bore the scars of the bandit camp, gripped Riri’s hand tightly. And Riri, the smallest, stared at Dayat with eyes full of bright, eager energy.

​”Starting today,” Dayat said, his voice calm but firm, “Loy and Riri are officially members of the Wailing Horde.”

​Loy caught his breath. Riri opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

​”You’re no longer guests here. You’re part of this team. You eat from the same kitchen, sleep in the same rooms, and if anyone attacks this castle, you help defend it.” Dayat locked eyes with them. “Understood?”

​Loy nodded vigorously. “U-understood, Master.”

​”Understood!” Riri echoed, her voice much louder.

​Dayat looked back at Kancil. “Kancil. You’re their mentor now.”

​Kancil blinked. “Me?”

​”You know the streets better than anyone. You’ve been training the longest. You understand how to face an enemy without magic better than most.” Dayat held his gaze. “I trust you to lead them.”

​Kancil went quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. “I understand, Brother. I won’t let you down.”

​Dola, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke. “Kancil.”

​Kancil turned toward her. “Yes, Sister Dola?”

​”Physical training alone is insufficient. I will transmit tactical data to Dalgor’s tablet. Small-unit combat formations. Siege tactics. Terrain reading. Study them, then teach the others.”

​Kancil nodded respectfully. “Understood, Sister.”

​Dola shifted her gaze to Loy and Riri. “You two. Starting tomorrow, you train twice a day. Physical in the morning, tactics in the evening. Do not be late. Do not complain. I do not tolerate excuses.”

​Loy and Riri nodded in unison, their faces a mix of fear and excitement.

​Dayat looked at Lunethra. “Lun.”

​Lunethra looked up. “Yes?”

​”Do you still want to cook for us?”

​It was a simple question, but Lunethra understood the weight behind it. Dayat wasn’t asking if she was capable; he was asking if she still wanted to be a part of this family.

​”I don’t mind,” Lunethra answered softly. “The kitchen has become my place. I’ve even started planting some seeds in the rear plot. Maybe we’ll have a harvest soon.”

​Dayat nodded. “If you need anything for your plants, let me know. I can manifest fertilizer or tools.”

​”Fertilizer?” Lunethra frowned. “What is that?”

​”I’ll explain later.” Dayat scanned everyone in the room. “We all have roles now. Dalgor handles the castle systems. Lunethra handles logistics and food. Kancil, Loy, and Riri handle training and the perimeter. Dola…” He turned to his wife. “Dola recovers first. After that, she takes command of the defenses.”

​Dola looked at him. “And you?”

​”I’m going to upgrade this castle. Dalgor needs materials; I’ll manifest them. The reactor needs crystals; I’ll find them. And if anyone attacks…” Dayat reached back for the hilt of Silver Thorn. “I’ll be the one to face them.”

​Silence fell.

​Then, Riri’s small voice broke the quiet. “Master Dayat… can I ask something?”

​”What is it?”

​”Sister Dola… she’s your wife, right?”

​Dayat blinked. “Yeah.”

​”So Sister Dola is the Lady of the house?”

​Dola turned to Riri, her electric-blue eyes studying the girl with an unreadable expression. “I am Master Dayat’s wife. So yes, I suppose you could say that.”

​Riri nodded eagerly. “That means Sister Dola is the prettiest person here.”

​Dola went still. Then, the corner of her lips—so thin it was almost invisible—twitched upward. “You are a smart girl.”

​Loy nudged Riri gently. “Stop talking so much.”

​”But it’s true! Sister Dola is beautiful. Sister Lunethra is beautiful too, but Sister Dola is the prettiest because she’s the Lady.”

​Lunethra let out a soft laugh—a genuine one, though with a hint of bittersweetness at the edges. “She’s right, Dola. You are the most beautiful person here.”

​Dola looked at Lunethra. There was something in her eyes—not hostility, not jealousy. It was more like… an acknowledgement. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “You… are not bad yourself.”

​It was perhaps the highest praise Dola had ever given Lunethra.

​Dayat exhaled. “Alright, that’s enough. Everyone, back to your posts. Dalgor, get that list of materials ready. I’ll start manifesting tonight. Kancil, take Loy and Riri back to practice. Lun…”

​Lunethra raised a hand. “I know. The kitchen.”

​Dayat smiled. “Thanks.”

​One by one, they filed out of the Heart of Logic. Dalgor limped toward the control room. Kancil led Loy and Riri to the courtyard. Lunethra walked toward the kitchen, her green gown trailing softly.

​Only Dayat and Dola remained.

​”They are good children,” Dola whispered.

​”Yeah.”

​”Loy is still traumatized. His eyes lose focus when he speaks.”

​”I know.”

​”Riri is too enthusiastic. It could be dangerous.”

​”I know that too.”

​Dola looked at Dayat. “And you… you still smell.”

​Dayat laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going to shower now.”

​He turned to leave, but Dola called out to him.

​”Master.”

​Dayat looked back. “Yes?”

​Dola watched him with eyes that were still dim but filled with something warm. “Thank you. For not giving up.”

​Dayat went quiet for a moment. He walked back to Dola, leaned down, and kissed her forehead. It was soft and brief.

​”I’m never giving up, Dol. As long as you’re here.”

​Dola closed her eyes, her hand finding Dayat’s and squeezing it tight.

​Outside, the Forest of Lamentation was still shrouded in mist. But inside the castle, for the first time in a very long time, the Wailing Horde was moving as one. No longer a collection of outcasts in hiding, but a team. A family.

​And that was enough.

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