Chapter 40: Bitter Aftermath (Part 2)

“That fucking bitch!” Kathleen Maher yelled after shutting down the live transmission. “That stupid reporter! How does she dare to blame you for that disaster?!”

“My princess, pay no attention to that bumbling fool. It’s their work to be as inflammatory as possible,” Marco Souza spoke softly after sipping his coffee. His eyes and tone of voice sounded as chill as ever. “Luckily, Astrid has already killed any rumor they may try.”

“Oh, yes, let me thank the now savior of Londorus!” Kathleen kept yelling, stretching out her hands to both sides. Her whole face had turned as red as her dress. “Now I’ll never be able to come back to that city again! I swear to god, if I find out that they erect a statue of her, I’ll become a fucking Quitter!”

Kathleen’s glare met Karen Svensson’s tearful gaze. The latter was standing silently next to the door, still wearing the ‘deception clothes’. “Guild Master, I’m so sorry for failing you on my first mission. I’ll–”

“It’s okay,” Kathleen interrupted, still frowning. “You’ve proven your loyalty already. Unlike a certain unapologetic bitch,” she intoned the last word with closed teeth, glaring at Marco, who remained collected.

“What do you mean, ma’am?” Karen asked, slightly shaking her head in Marco’s direction. “What happened?”

Marco sighed. “Amelia Laflamme is missing.”

“So? It’s not strange for her to disappear once in a while.” Karen took turns, glancing at her two bosses.

“What is strange, is that she was the one to give you Alan Warden’s location, and then this other armored person showed up.” Kathleen snickered. “Isn’t that peculiar?”

Karen’s face paled. “N-No. She wouldn’t! I can vouch for her, Guild Master. I assure you she hates Astrid Bradford as much as you do! Let me contact her right away and–”

“Oh, forget that,” Kathleen quickly dismissed, rolling her eyes and returning to her seat. “Leave her be. I have plenty of pyromancers under my command already, so I couldn’t care less about a non-compliant bitch like her. What I need from you right now, is to tell me everything that happened today. Everything you saw and heard in that city. Don’t skip on the details, all right?”

“Yes, Guild Master.”

So it’s goodbye then, Amelia? Marco thought, discreetly opening his User Interface.

While Karen did her best to tell the events of the day, Marco found the Londorus Times’ video on the Navinet, and watched it again. Astrid’s audio was for his ears only: […Because if the time comes and you weren’t damn ready, you’ll fucking regret it forever.]

Hearing that again suddenly gave meaning to Amelia’s behavior from last night. And Astrid’s too. I guess.

He stared at a still image of Astrid, her gaze fixed directly at the camera. So your faith paid off… He then rewound the video to have another look at the panoramic shots of a destroyed Londorus. Too bad your dear boyfriend may be too busy dealing with this menace to even—hold on… Why did that thought cross my mind just now?

Do I really believe this guy’s story about that thing being here, inside the Novus, and on the loose?

He narrowed his eyes while the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. But there’s no proof of it. This terrorist attack is just a coincidence. The guy and his stupid mission have nothing to do with this.

Annoyed, he gulped his drink and got out of the room unnoticed. Karen’s retelling is useless. She knows nothing. This just proves my theory that this event was unrelated. Still… If for whatever reason the guy is right, and this is just the beginning of an all-out war against ‘that’… Then, these stupid RPG-mechanics may have given us the tools to fight back…

Marco sneered, hands inside pockets. The hall in front of him seemed to stretch to infinity as his mind worked in all possibilities.

Whatever. It doesn’t concern me at all… Have fun fighting that, Alan Warden.

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By the time Astrid Bradford flew back to the Shooting Stars HQ, the pain and exhaustion of the previous battle hit her all at once. Although a priest from the Titan Hunters’ guild had healed all of her wounds, the white magic did not replenish her stamina.

Shit… That gal was really something. It wouldn’t surprise me if she became stronger after this. But next time, I’ll also be prepared…

Her eyes were closed, but she could discern the blue light of her opened User Interface in front of her, showing the names of her remaining guilders.

She skimmed through the list with tired eyes. All of their statuses were set to offline. I’m so sorry, Tamara, for sending you on that suicidal mission. I know you were saving to buy that Legendary-grade necklace you saw online…

Astrid suddenly chuckled. Why was that my main concern? Living here has really affected my priorities.

Let’s see. Tamara died in the explosion. Helen too, huh? When did that happen? Hmm… Oscar was killed in combat. So was the other enemy formidable too, or were they also immune to the Safe Zone’s restrictions? If that’s the case, he fought a losing battle.

Wait…

She narrowed her eyes and swept the screen up and down repeatedly. Where is he? I can’t find Alan’s name on the list. His status should be displayed, regardless if he died or survived the explosion! But why would he be near that thing anyway?!

She felt a pang of panic while double-checking the information. His name was not there.

She pressed a hand against her chest, trying to calm herself until she distinguished a silhouette in front of the guild building’s main entrance.

It was someone wearing a red jacket.

She urged her mount to descend quickly, and once her winged lion touched the ground, she dashed to meet that person. Her lips formed a spontaneous smile.

The first thing she wanted to ask him was where he had been this whole time, and if he was okay. Was he hungry? Should they have supper together? But when she noticed the dirt adorning his face and clothes, she pursed her lips.

He began speaking in a calm, soothing way, but she easily noticed that his voice would crack at any time. As she listened, she observed the bags under his eyes looking even deeper and darker than before.

His smile was a farce, she knew it, and also all the things coming out of his mouth.

Did he have to leave? Where? He could not say, even though he had an unquestionably good reason.

He assured her to be grateful for all the things she had done for him, especially saving him a spot in the guild after all this time… But why was he mentioning it? He was the founding Guild Master! Of course he’d always have a place here!

What that traitorous Marco and his entourage of buffoons did had something to do with all this?

Although Alan assured that his heart was big enough to let that go, she couldn’t. She would crush their spirits and Whoreleen’s as soon as she had the chance.

Seconds later, she interrupted him just before he could apologize for ‘destroying the guild’. How could he adjudicate that whole other mess on himself?!

He didn’t force them to leave! They are practically adults that can make their own decisions! Stupid ones but nonetheless!

It was all Marco’s fault! His discomfort for this guild had been gradually growing for over a year, so good riddance!

She didn’t need those clowns!

But was there something else?

Could it be related to the other topic they discussed last night? Was their relationship just a farce—something as trivial as kids playing house in a tiny plastic playset?

Maybe… he never really fell for her.

Was this the real reason they were having this conversation?

He quickly shook his head. Why was she even questioning that? Of course, he had fallen for her back then—correction: he still felt the same.

She then felt as if that hulking woman, Scarlett, had returned and crushed her heart.

LIAR. IF THAT WAS THE CASE, WHY HAVEN’T YOU HELD ME IN YOUR ARMS, KISSED ME, OR SAID YOU LOVED ME EVEN ONCE SINCE YOUR RETURN! she thought, quickly hating herself for doubting him.

Then, why?

If he was being sincere, why was he leaving then?

If there was a problem, they would solve it together.

She could smash and defeat anyone inside this bloody simulation, so how could there be something she could not handle?!

But a voice deep inside her spoke a painful truth…

‘You can’t force him to stay…’

“Is this pending stuff you have to do… something only you can achieve?” she asked in a tiny voice, almost pleadingly. Wishing for him to say no.

“…Yes. That’s what I believe.”

“Okay. Then I believe it too,” she said, looking down. When he tried to give back the gifted clothes, she shook her head. “Didn’t I tell you yesterday that red looks good on you? Keep them, please. They’re Epic-grade, so it’ll be a while until they wear down.” She shut her eyes. “I-I’m not saying that you should use this every day, okay?!”

“Thanks,” he whispered, looking her in the eyes. “I’ll promise you to come back when I get stronger.”

“I know you’ll do.”

“Until then, Astrid.”

“See you soon, Alan.”

She waited for an entire minute to enter the building, in case he turned back. But nothing.

Inside, she found the echo of her heeled boots irritating. Never in her one year living there had she found the halls that quiet and unnerving.

Where was the sound of guilders bickering, the noise of spoons against porcelain, or people’s steps on the tiled floor? She could only hear the NPCs working without a care in the world and the indifferent sound that came from the street beyond the walls.

She did not dare to walk into the main room and bare its quietness.

Her body ached all over as she strolled to her office. Her legs wobbled, and her knees knocked together as she unlocked the door.

Her chair creaked as she sat in front of her desk, her head resting on both hands. She heard droplets of rain hitting the window.

This place is becoming colder…

Holding her breath, she tapped a series of buttons on her desk and the closet in front of her opened automatically, revealing a gray-colored mannequin, wearing a set of red armor.

“I’ve always thought that red looks good on you.” She tapped on the desk again, making two other mannequins appear. One dressed in a mage robe, holding an exquisite silver staff, the third resembled a hunter marksman, modeling an expensive-looking black bow.

She admired them from behind her desk, tilting her head slightly. Traces of a smile appeared on her lips as she imagined him wearing each outfit. But reality soon intruded upon her mind.

“He left,” she muttered, expressionless. The desk cracked just by the action of her forming fists.

Not here…

She stood up and exited through the window. Her Flying Mount appeared in a matter of seconds and took her toward the horizon.

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