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Thief of Time
Chapter 592: The aftermath of an aborted apocalypse

Chapter 592: The aftermath of an aborted apocalypse

Pain throbbed all over her body as light trickled into the room, and Dia forced herself to get up. Her muscles were screaming in places where she didn’t know she had them, a feeling that she remembered feeling only as a child, after arduous bouts of muscle training.

She hadn’t trained to such an extent after her toddling years.

“Ugh.”

“Oi, she’s up!”

“I’ll go inform that bartender. Stay here and help her if she needs anything, alright? Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone else yet,” said someone.

“Run along, then,” another voice replied. “I’ll take care of her first.”

Wood clattered, and a presence left the room. Dia rubbed her eyes a few more times, before her eyes focused onto a familiar face that was standing to her side.

“Risti?” Dia called out. “That you?”

“Yeap. It’s good that you’re fine.”

Dia shook her head, and a blurry figure appeared in her vision. She took stock of her surroundings for a few seconds as her vision cleared up, before asking, “How’s the little kid?”

“That girl you entrusted to me?” Risti asked. “She’s fine now. Nibbling at a piece of bread and staring at a picture of her mother. There’s the occasional teardrop, but she seems to have gotten over her mother’s passing, if only partially.”

“Good.” Dia paused. “Does anyone know if she’s the core of that Distortion?”

“I hid it, just in case the Moons want to dissect her or something,” Risti replied. “After all, that was what you intended to do, right? You wouldn’t want her to be cut up and stuff like that.”

“…Good job.” Dia rubbed her eyes again. “Who were you talking to just now?”

“Farah,” Risti replied. “She ran off to find Schwarz. Are you feeling fine? You seemed uninjured, and all the skills we used worked fine, but you were still unconscious for some reason.”

“Tired, probably.” Dia got up. “And aching all over, like some young swordswoman who’d overtaxed her muscles. But I’m fine otherwise. Ouch.”

She touched her throat. It wasn’t burning uncomfortably, which could only mean that she had been out of it for a few hours. “Water, please.”

“Here.”

After wetting her throat, she slid off the bed, which she now recognised as hers, and then relaxed. “Any casualties from this attack?”

“Miraculously, no. I’m not sure how you stopped the attack, but you stopped it before anyone could die at all,” Risti replied. “It’s…a very impressive result, if nothing else. How did you…wait. Never mind. We can ask later. You should freshen up first. I’ll go prepare some food for you.”

Dia nodded.

After taking a quick shower, Dia pulled on a set of comfortable clothes and headed out, a towel wrapped around her head. Her movements were slow and deliberate, since her muscles protested vigorously whenever she tried to use any semblance of force, but eventually, she reached the dining room, where a small platter of food had been laid out.

A little girl, who had been nibbling at a piece of bread, turned to look at her immediately. Curious eyes scrutinised her entire body for a few seconds, before she slipped off her seat and ran towards Dia.

“Oof. That hurts.” Dia rubbed the toddler’s head. “Also, is it safe for you to be sitting that high? Do we have any baby seats?”

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The tiny child looked at her, and Dia shook her head. “Right. Anyway, I suppose you want a hug…”

A delicate face burrowed into the crook of her neck as she carried the kid and settled on a chair. The little girl was very much alive and existing, not as a Distortion, but as an ordinary little kid. Without a mother, there wasn’t much she could—

“Dia?” Risti entered the room. “Oh. She recognised you, eh?”

“Risti.” Dia smiled at her. “Is that my” —Dia glanced at the lightening skies— “breakfast?”

“Sure is. Anyway, I and a few servants gave her a little bath earlier on, so don’t worry about her hygiene and all,” Risti added. “I also hired a nanny to look after her — the best in town, for sure — and we’ve determined that ensuring that she grows up well will stop any possible relapses.”

“Relapses?”

“Might happen. Might not. But I definitely don’t want to find out,” Risti replied. “Also, there was something that fell out of the Distortion, lying next to you. A piece of armour that’s somehow linked to the Distortion itself, carrying magical properties.”

“An artefact?”

“Seems like one, but it operates on principles I don’t even know how to explain,” Risti replied. “It’s quite tough, though, so you should wear it. Might help you.”

“Me?”

“Well, you’re the one who dealt with the Distortion, so everything belongs to you,” Risti replied, before turning to the kid. “Hey, uh…what’s her name?”

Dia looked at the kid, who was now shaking her head as she continued to burrow her face into her neck. “What’s your name?”

The kid paused. “Baab.”

“…Not helpful at all,” Dia replied. “Uhm. Baab…”

“Baab!” The kid shook her head. “Baab!”

Dia looked at the kid for a moment, and then fell silent. For some reason, she had the feeling that this little girl was telling her that she pronounced her name wrongly, but…

“You’re pronouncing it wrongly too, right?” Dia muttered. “Baab.”

“Baab…” The little girl looked a little sad. “Baath. Beth!”

Something seemed to click, and she repeated, “Beth! Beth!”

“Beth…right?”

“Beth!” The child nodded over and over again. “Baba. Mama…Mama…”

“Oh dear.” Dia patted her head. “It’s alright. They’re happy that you lived, you know. So don’t cry. Remember them, but don’t cry. Your Baba and Mama wouldn’t want you to cry, right? So don’t. Live on, and smile.”

Beth nodded her head, and Dia felt her heart clench up. There was something so small, so depressing, about that little movement that she wanted to cry too, but she was the adult here.

Adults had no business crying in front of kids.

“Dia, let me take her for a while. You should…wash up or something. Your face looks like a mess now,” Risti muttered. “The others should be returning anytime ssoon, and you don’t want to worry them, right?”

“Yeah. Here.”

Dia passed the kid over to Risti, who immediately made some weird sounds and hugged the kid. “I’ll go wash my face again.”

It took her some time to straighten her face once more, by which time the others were all at the dining room and cheering up the little kid. Schwarz was making some rather weird sounds with glass cups, while Risti and Farah were alternating with each other to make baby faces at the child, who promptly reached out for the squished-up bits.

“I’m back.” Dia smiled at everyone. “Thanks, guys.”

“Why are you thanking us?” Schwarz asked. “We owe you our lives. I thought I was going to die when that gigantic ball of flame fell from the sky and ate me up, you know.”

Farah nodded. “That’s usually what happens to people who are caught up in the Distortion’s manifestation. I was even prepared for it, but I ended up getting knocked out by that thing…being stuck in that gooey place is not fun at all.”

“Right?” Risti asked. “How did you even dodge that anyway? That thing chased me down for two minutes and flattened me afterwards.”

“Uh…” Dia thought for a moment. “That thing smashed into me, true, but I took no damage from it. After that, I felt something calling me, so I went to the centre of the Distortion and found Beth.”

“…What?”

“You know, the effect of Salvation Star?” Dia replied. “I resisted the attack directly. Nothing much to it.”

Schwarz twitched. “You can take that ‘nothing much’ and—”

Risti glanced at the bartender once. “Hmm?”

“—wave it around, I suppose,” Schwarz completed, his voice a tiny bit sheepish. “Still, you just took that ball of fire directly?”

Dia nodded. “I suppose I should thank my brother for it, if nothing else. Still…I had thought it would be a lot tougher, you know. He did so much, but I stopped the Distortion before things could worsen. It’s a good thing…it is a good thing. No one died. It’s the perfect victory. So…why does it hurt?”

“...Because you want something else out of it,” Schwarz replied quietly. “You want proof that everything he did was truly worth it. That you, as the Salvation Star, stopped a Distortion that took so many lives…but no one died in this Distortion. You stopped it perfectly, and no one died. No one and nothing can prove that your brother died a meaningful death.”

“You are a bartender after all,” Dia muttered. “Yes. You’re right. I’m a horrible person, right?”

“We all have horrible thoughts like this at one point or another,” Schwarz replied. “No need to worry about that. But…there are some things you need to come to terms with yourself.”

“I know.” Dia nodded. “I know.”