[
Accompanied by the clear notification, the surroundings began to restore themselves to normal, cracks and shards that once fractured the space around them mended to a close, disappearing as if they’d been a figment of their imagination. Stains of blood from the Alpha Wolf faded from the ground, followed by the boss’ body as it let off a soft, translucent glow.
As Rokan’s corpse vanishes, it left behind several items, all giving off gentle lights corresponding to their respective rarity. But as both of them walked closer, Circe suddenly stumbled, before she could fall, she thought quickly and impaled her sword into the soil.
”Circe?” Worried, Zeke rushed to her side, noticing her quivering grip on the weapon’s handle despite the darkness. “What’s wrong? Did the wolf get you somewhere? Are you hurt?” While they might not have known each other for long, Zeke considered her behavior to be abnormal compared to before. He’d seen her fight, and he knew she wasn’t the type to get shaken this easily.
As Circe dropped to the ground, Zeke followed suit, bringing the Sapphire Staff with him. From the crystal’s blue light, he could see the pained expression on Circe’s face. “Yes, but it wasn’t from Rokan,” she brought up her knees, revealing the deep red streaks lining the exposed parts of her feet. “…I shouldn’t have run in these heels, maybe fighting barefoot would’ve been better.”
Noticing a hint of blood on her blisters, Zeke winced as if he felt the pain on his own skin. “Yikes…those look horrible, I doubt you can walk back in this condition.”
”You’ll have to carry me, then.” She smirked.
”Or I could go call for someone to come pick you up.”
“That’s cold,” Circe pouted as she watched Zeke get up to his feet. “You’re going to leave a girl in the middle of this dark forest?”
Zeke stared at her blankly for a moment. As he responded, he leaned the staff towards her. “I’ll lend you the Sapphire Staff, then.”
Circe had been responding under the pretext that Zeke was joking around, but after realizing that he was serious, she gave him a cold glare. “…Okay, seriously, don’t you dare leave me here.”
Not expecting her to get angry, Zeke retracted his hand, swallowing a nervous lump down his throat. “I’m sorry, that was inconsiderate of me, I’ll carry you back.” He replied meekly.
Satisfied, Circe’s frigid expression veered into a smile. “That’s so nice of you, Lord Silas. Now, go pick up those items so we can get out of here.”
After responding with a nod, Zeke started whisking all the shiny objects into his inventory, not bothering to check their descriptions since Circe’s injury came first. As he returned to her side, he put the Sapphire Staff away, the lack of illumination fortunately solved by the moonlight. “As for our fake story…since the corpse isn’t here, we can just say that I solo’d it or something.”
“What about the sword?” Circe had a forlorn look on her face when she stared at the sword, its once flawless blade had become chipped and bent, even if it didn’t possess any special affinities or give her any stats, she still felt great attachment to the friend that allowed her to see the next sunrise. “…I feel bad leaving it here…It did so well protecting me.”
“…” Zeke made a face, inducing a suppressed puff from Circe.
”You protected me too, of course! You don’t have to feel jealous~” Her words brought a deeper frown to Zeke’s expression, for a moment, she forgot about the stingings on her feet.
“I’m not?”
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
“Whatever you say~” Before Zeke could snap at her teasing, she held up both her arms like a child asking her parents for a lift. “Pick me up, daddy!”
Zeke’s face went blank. “What the fuck.”
“HAHAHAH!” Despite the pure look of disbelief on Zeke’s face, he knelt down and lifted Circe from the ground without much fuss. As she wrapped one arm around his neck to get a better grip, she grinned widely. “Thank you, Zeke.”
Zeke looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “…What’s this for?”
”Well, everything…but mainly for being here.” Now that the adrenaline from their battle had dissipated from her system, Circe felt the fatigue rushing to her mind. The weight of her head felt heavier to lift up and she leaned against Zeke’s shoulder for support. “To be honest, I wanted to look cool, so I didn’t feel scared at all when we fought monsters like this.”
“Look cool?” Zeke huffed, smiling as he walked, surprisingly, his measly three strength stats managed to carry her entire weight. She couldn’t see a sign of struggle from him at all even as she stared at his face, barely visible under the moon. “Who are you trying to look cool for? There’s no one here.”
Circe chuckled, shaking her head at how foolished he sounded. “You don’t count yourself? You’re here.”
For a moment, Zeke didn’t respond. “…You’re already cool enough, though.” His voice barely counted as a whisper as the smile dissipated from his lips. Despite his attempt at being secretive, he should know that Circe could definitely hear him at that distance.
Normally, she would’ve teased him about it until the soft blush on his cheeks flared into a wildfire, but just this once, Circe accepted his compliment with a bright smile. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said so far.”
“No?” Hesitance crept up his face. “…Really? I’m sure I’ve complimented you plenty.”
“If you’d start listing things, then I’ll really be dissapointed.” Circe chuckled as she closed her eyes, letting the drowsiness wash over her. “You…pass…”
Zeke glanced down at Circe, noticing that she’d fallen sound asleep before he averted his attention back to the moonlit path. ‘Better get her to bed quickly.’, the thought passed through his mind as he walked, not minding the weight of a teenage girl pressing against his arms, nor the gentle, yet warm breath brushing against his neck.
He didn’t mind indulging in this serene moment just for a second longer.
.
.
.
As Creston Salvador watched the last carriage leave the Salvador estate, he let out a long, tired sigh, thumb and index fingers clutching his temples tightly. Frowning, he glanced at Esmeralda Salvador. She’d been anxiously staring into the darkness beyond the mansion’s lights since before, biting her lips in anticipation as she hoped for a certain boy’s return.
“Someone killed the boss when me and Lysander got out of the shattered space…I assumed it’s Silas, I told myself not to worry and tended to the guests first…but where is he? Maybe I should let Einar warrant a search party now…”
‘Step.’
Before he could follow through with his thoughts, Creston’s head snapped towards a sudden noise, prompting Lysander to follow his gaze curiously. Not long after, Silas emerged from the night’s darkness with Ruelle sleeping peacefully in his arms.
“Silas!” Esmeralda called as tears of relief brimmed her eyes, garnering the youngest son’s attention, who looked as if he’d just come back from an exhausting excursion. Dirt and dust smudged his once perfect attire, and his face looked worn with droopy eyes that appeared as if they would suddenly shut close at any moment. “Oh thank the gods…are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?
“Mother…Father,” his voice sounded hoarse, yet they still brimmed with energy as he looked at Ruelle. “My lady had fallen asleep from exhaustion…she’d been running around in those tight heels and gotten hurt, please take care of her.”
“What about you?” Creston gave his son a worried look. “Answer your mother, Silas. Are you hurt anywhere?”
”I am alright, as you can see, I can still carry Lady Ruelle just fine,” Silas’ voice almost sounded like a frustrated grunt as a slight frown creased his eyebrows. But when he spoke again, he let out a sigh. “My apologies…I got cranky because my lady is hurt, I ask that you take care of her injuries first before tending to me, but all I want right now is rest…I’m very tired.”
Creston and Esmeralda shared a glance, and once the marchioness nodded, Creston turned to Einar, who’d been standing quietly behind them as he awaited his orders. “Sir Einar, take Lady Ruelle to the estate doctor.”
“As you command, my lord.” The knight bowed before taking the sleeping lady into his arms, the two young noble and servant stared at each other for a brief moment, yet none of them spoke a word. After giving one last bow to Silas, Einar headed back into the mansion.
”Lysander.” Creston called his eldest child.
”Yes, father?” Unlike the parents, Lysander had not a hint of worry for his little brother on his stoic expression. In that moment, he appeared like the cold, strict marquess that Creston was renowned for more than the man himself.
”You take your brother back to his room.”
“Um…” Esmeralda suddenly spoke up, a hesitant look shown clearly on her expression as she looked at Silas with a pleading gleam in her eyes. Speaking with her usual honeyed tone, she gave him a gentle smile. “I can take him inside, will you come with me, Silas?”
Surprisingly, Silas nodded. “Okay, mother.”
“…Silas usually doesn’t care about Esmeralda at all…maybe it’s because of Lady Ruelle that he’s learning to treat women better?”
Dismissing it as him simply being too tired to care, Esmeralda beamed while taking his hand into hers. “Oh my,” immediately, she felt the cold seeping into her palm. “You must be freezing, let’s get you back inside, c’mon.”
As the two of them headed into the mansion, Creston and Lysander followed suit.