Chapter 103: You arrived just in time

As she watched the soldiers and knights finally catch their breath after all the pent-up tension, Alisha could see a glimmer of light in all this darkness.

Some leaned on their weapons, others let their shoulders slump, as if the invisible weight they carried had finally granted them a moment’s respite.

But the smell of blood still filled her nostrils, along with that of sweat and dampness… though those were minor details in this moment of respite, thanks to the arrival of the Tubor army.

The air remained thick and heavy, as if the battle were not yet entirely over, and refused to leave the city.

She watched them advance from the end of the street, where the city began to open up onto the outer roads. They did not move in a hurry, nor with the brutal force with which they had burst into battle.

Their steps were firm and measured, stirring up barely any dust as they advanced, as if every movement were perfectly controlled.

The black and silver banners fluttered calmly, as if the violence of just a few hours ago had never existed.

The sound of the fabric moving in the wind contrasted with the strange silence that now dominated the streets.

Alisha stood her ground, her face streaked with blood, and for a moment, she didn’t move.

A dried drop of blood marked her cheek, taut against her skin, reminding her that the fight had been real.

She had imagined that moment in many ways during the fight…, but now that it was happening, her body seemed unsure of how to react.

The pent-up tension was still there, trapped in her muscles, refusing to disappear right away.

She just watched them.

Hardly blinking, as if she feared that if she did, it would all vanish.

The knights of Tubor looked different even from that distance. Their armor, though stained with blood, retained its impeccable structure.

The metal plates faintly reflected the light, outlining orderly, disciplined figures that stood in stark contrast to the chaos surrounding them.

She felt a slight twinge in her chest.

An uneasy, restrained heartbeat, as if her body were reacting before her mind could comprehend it.

That kind of discipline was rare.

Not after a battle like that, not in a place where everything seemed to have fallen apart.

Around him, some of Hall’s soldiers began to sit up straighter, to clean themselves as best they could, to try to restore an image that was already too shattered.

Trembling hands brushed away dried blood; dented armor was awkwardly adjusted—small gestures attempting to regain some semblance of dignity.

Others watched.

Their gaze was vacant, fixed on the advance of the newcomers, as if they still couldn’t process what they were seeing.

Just like her.

Motionless, trapped in that suspended moment between the end of the battle and something that had not yet taken shape.

When the distance closed enough, a figure stepped forward.

The rest didn’t react, as if that movement were already implied, expected.

He walked a few steps ahead of the rest.

His steps betrayed neither haste nor doubt, only a silent certainty.

Alisha narrowed her eyes. She didn’t need anyone to say anything to know that this was the leader.

Something about his presence broke the pattern of the rest, like a fixed point in the midst of the movement.

There was something about the way he moved… a quiet confidence, as if the battlefield were nothing more than another familiar terrain.

As if the death surrounding them held no weight over him.

Alisha took a step forward. She felt the weight of every movement, as if crossing that distance were harder than any battle she’d fought before.

Her boots scraped against the ground with a sharp sound, amplified by the silence that had settled in.

She stopped several meters away from him.

The distance between them wasn’t great, but it felt thick, heavy with everything that had just happened.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Not even the distant sounds of the city seemed to dare to break that moment.

The wind swept between them, rustling the worn fabrics and carrying the lingering scent of battle.

It brought with it dust, dried blood, and a distant echo of destruction.

Alisha held his gaze and finally spoke.

“You arrived just in time.”

Her voice sounded steadier than she expected.

Though inside, the tension still hadn’t completely dissipated.

The man watched her silently for a moment before answering. His gaze briefly swept over her face, lingering on the scars of battle.

“We ran into a little trouble… but it seems that, around here, things are very tense.”

Alisha nodded. She had also heard the news about the tension in the nearby cities, but, since she was busy with her own war, she hadn’t paid it much attention.

The information piled up in her mind in no particular order, like scattered pieces of a larger conflict.

She looked past him, toward the ranks stretching out behind him.

Neat, compact rows that stood in stark contrast to the city’s fragmented state.

“If they’d been a little later… we probably wouldn’t be talking like this right now, so I’m grateful to them.”

The words came out unadorned, direct, yet laden with a weight that needed no explanation.

The man turned his face slightly, gazing out at the city as well. The scarred walls. The shattered streets. The bodies that had not yet been removed.

His gaze lingered a second longer than necessary, as if silently assessing the magnitude of what had happened.

“But we didn’t. We got there in time, and… Arkham is still standing, and that’s all that matters now.”

His tone didn’t change, but there was a firmness that left no room for any other interpretation.

Alisha exhaled through her nose. She felt an invisible weight lift. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, releasing a tension she hadn’t even realized she was still holding.

The man continued:

His voice didn’t rise, but it naturally cut through the silence surrounding them.

“Now we can secure the perimeter. Prevent what’s left of Migzar from trying to return and draw out their remaining forces.”

Her words were direct, without a trace of doubt, as if she had already assessed the situation long before speaking them.

Alisha nodded; that was the right thing to do at the moment, and also the most necessary. With Migzar’s army, it would be a great victory for them, and with Tubor’s forces, they could hold out until her son returned.

The mere thought of that possibility made her mind cling to an idea of stability that still felt distant.

“Then do it. By the way, what is your name?”

Her voice came out firm, though a part of her was still weighing each word cautiously.

The man bowed his head slightly.

A small gesture, but one filled with a courtesy that didn’t seem forced.

“My name is Roman. Nice to meet you. Since we’ll be here for several days, I hope we get along well.”

“I agree: without you, we wouldn’t have been able to survive another few days.”

As she said this, Alisha realized the true weight of those words, beyond mere formality.

Roman nodded and turned to his own soldiers and knights; then he gave a brief order.

He didn’t raise his voice, but a single gesture was enough to make the instruction clear.

Tubor’s ranks began to move almost instantly, dispersing with an efficiency that stood in stark contrast to the chaos still reigning in the city.

Each group headed in a different direction, securing access points and organizing their positions, as if they already knew the terrain even though they had never been there before.

…

With a gentle breeze caressing his face, Adam lay in the carriage, his legs crossed, gazing peacefully at the sky.

The constant clatter of the wheels against the road set a monotonous, almost hypnotic rhythm that accompanied that moment of calm.

Throughout his journey, nothing out of the ordinary had happened—just a few Rank I and II monsters, which were easily dispatched by the mercenaries… though it would no longer be appropriate to call them mercenaries.

They were now part of Adam’s private army, and, of course, they were thrilled; they couldn’t wait to return, defeat Migzar, and conquer it, so they could once again be part of their territory.

The skirmishes had been brief, almost routine, posing no real threat.

In their occasional conversations, he could sense that pent-up excitement, that ambition growing with every mile they traveled.

Besides, he hadn’t forgotten the system or the hero summoning card either; he was eager to use it, but felt that the time wasn’t right yet.

The idea lingered in the back of his mind, persistent, like a temptation he mustn’t give in to just yet.

He turned his face toward the side where Asterin was floating as usual. They had been chatting quite a bit during the journey, especially now that he had regained the memories of his first life.

…Which were by no means pleasant; his first life had been far too miserable.

Asterin remained by his side with that constant presence, silent when she wasn’t speaking, but impossible to ignore.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and continued to enjoy this tranquility. Once he arrived in Arkham, he wouldn’t be able to rest for quite some time.

He knew it for certain. That calm was nothing more than a brief pause before everything started moving again.

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