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[HELLO, AUTHOR HERE! Just a quick note to let you know how much your votes and comments motivate me to keep going! While I may not always be able to reply because of work and other responsibilities, I see every single one, and they really affect my mood and drive to continue writing. So, thank you so much for the support! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I apologize if there are any errors—I finished this up pretty late!]

Everyone at the guild decided to disperse after Varlog’s little history lesson. Varlog, along with Yilla, were staying behind under Marcy’s watchful eye, at least until the king made his decision after hearing Nickelson’s… ‘truthful’ account of what had transpired. The odds were favorable for Varlog and Yilla, given the deal they’d struck with Nickelson—promising to keep quiet about Liliac’s rampage, which had been witnessed by Van, Cerille, and Liliac. Varlog remained calm, confident that things were under control for now.

Van gave one last glance at Varlog. The look was a cue—Varlog was signaling that now wasn’t the best time to catch up or form any plans. Van understood this from their brief exchange. He trusted Varlog enough to know that if anything important came up, Varlog would find a way to reach him.

With that in mind, Van nodded and made his way down to the counter shortly after Lalyn had left. He settled there just as Amoria and her daughter, Lizzy, were preparing to leave.

“Van..?” Amoria called out as she stood at the front of the guild alongside Lizzy, the last two remaining after Lalyn had left. Apart from Marcy, who had to stay behind to guard Varlog and Yilla, everyone else had already gone. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.

Van sighed, glancing over at her while Varlog and Yilla retreated back into their rooms.

‘I guess it’s time to tell her I’m no longer her guest…’ Van thought, a faint unease stirring in his gut.

“…?” Lizzy made a soft, confused sound as she noticed the tension between them. ‘Did he not tell Mom he was leaving?’ she wondered, seeing her mother’s expectant look.

Marcy, after observing the building tension and silence that followed Amoria’s question, sighed. “Alright… I’ve got some things to check in the storage,” she muttered, making herself scarce as she disappeared into the guild’s storage room behind the counter.

‘I thought she already heard me talking outside with Anne along with the others… She even congratulated me with the rest of them for having a simple conversation with a kid… Either way, she must’ve heard about the house contract,’ Van thought, scrutinizing Amoria’s calm, expectant expression.

‘But despite all that, she’s still asking me to come back with her? Come on, Amoria. You can’t really be that frustrated about me living somewhere else.’ Van sighed to himself.

‘Well, it doesn’t really matter what you’re frustrated about.’ Van steeled his resolve, focusing on the image of Alicia in his mind. ‘I’ve made up my mind. I told Alicia, and now I’ll tell you. I’m done making decisions and not following through with them!’ He recalled the moment he decided to leave the party with Amoria, only to be compelled by Magus to stay.

‘I’m done with it!’

‘So why does the idea of not going with her bother me so much? Especially now when I’m about to tell her?’ Van’s thoughts swirled as he remembered Amoria cooing at him before he had gotten into the bath at her house.

“Are you sure you don’t want this sweet older lady to help you bathe…?” Her voice echoed in his mind, as did the memory of her affection. She had shown him care—bringing him food, clothes, and a room—without expecting anything in return. Something that not even the demons did.

Thinking about her now, Van couldn’t help but feel something toward her. But rather than viewing her as a lover…

…he saw the image of his mother from his original world plastered over Amoria, and the longing for her warmth crept up again.

“Van? What’s wrong, come wi%#$!7@+14,2^#@#^=#23$@!!^$#—” Amoria began, but Van, his mood suddenly shifting, interrupted her abruptly.

“You can’t seriously still say that! Come on!” Van cut her off, the turmoil of his inner thoughts spilling out. “I’m living in my own place now. This is my decision, and I’m sticking to it! It’s better for you and your daughter. Get the hint!” His words were sharp, piercing, though he hadn’t raised his voice. But the effect on Amoria was immediate and palpable, as though each syllable struck deep.

Amoria’s expression hardened as her eyes locked onto Van.

Lizzy, standing beside her, shot a look of surprise in Van’s direction, her eyebrows rising.

“Liz,” Amoria called sternly, pulling her daughter’s attention back to the moment.

“M-mom?” Lizzy asked softly, her eyes shifting from Van to her mother, uncertain.

“Go home. I need to talk with Vanny here,” Amoria said, kneeling in front of her daughter with a reassuring smile. “Okay?”

“A-Alright, mom,” Lizzy replied with a nod, casting one final glance at Van before turning away and leaving the guild hall. As she disappeared from sight, Amoria stood still, her focus on her daughter’s retreating presence before the room quieted.

“Are you… unhappy staying with me, Van?” she asked, stepping closer, her tone softening, her once-steeled gaze gentler now.

“Do you not like how I treated you?” Amoria questioned, closing the distance further. Her words only deepened the twist in Van’s chest.

“Should I have been… softer? Maybe… apologized for what I did throughout the night?” Her questions multiplied, each one cutting deeper, until Van instinctively backed away, trying to maintain distance.

“Tell me… talk to me. I want to understand so I can—” she started, but every word she spoke only raised his agitation.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Van finally said, meeting her gaze with an intensity that halted her mid-step. His fists clenched as he looked at her with burning eyes.

“Nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.” His voice was firm, though laced with an unmistakable tremor.

“And you know what? I’m done. I’m done pretending. I don’t know WHY exactly you look at me the way you do. I don’t deserve ANY of it. And I know what you want, but your intentions are VERY misplaced. I’m not the good person you think I am.”

Amoria took in his words, but remained composed, still stepping closer. “Do you… want to tell me about it?” she asked, her voice now steady, yet inviting.

“You know what? Fine. Fucking fine,” Van chuckled bitterly, swinging his arms with exaggerated motion. “Marcy was right. I can never be part of your families. Might as well make it final,” he growled, voice low and edged with anger.

“Don’t… don’t say something so cruel,” Amoria’s voice wavered with emotion. “I just want to help… to ease a little of your pain. You’re worthy of being loved, Van. You’re a good, kind person who’s just been dealt a difficult hand—”

“You’ve all been brainwashed,” Van cut her off, his teeth clenched in frustration, the words spilling out like poison.

“Van, please, stop it,” Amoria pleaded, her voice quieter, but still firm. “This isn’t you. Saying something so cruel, so harsh…”

“I’ll rephrase…” Van took a sharp breath, his chest rising and falling unevenly. His grip tightened as though he were wielding a weapon, a greatsword poised to strike. His words came out slow, deliberate, “You, and every woman Magus has ever come across, have been brainwashed—physically and completely—to love him unconditionally. And it’s all thanks to the gracious hand of your beloved goddess, the bitch you revere so much. Is that clear enough for you?”

The air in the room thickened, tension pulling taut. Amoria’s face remained unreadable, but the way her breath hitched, the subtle tightening of her shoulders, gave her away.

“You think I’m some good, kind person? A savior?” Van’s voice lowered, the venom dripping from each syllable. “All that bullshit you believe about me—I’m done pretending. I’m done hiding what I really am.”

Alicia’s voice echoed in his mind—her words a haunting reminder that he was never the hero they thought him to be.

That he is not a good person.

He stepped closer, his gaze dark and unflinching, towering over Amoria, who instinctively recoiled.

“Your children, Amoria,” his voice dropped to a murmur, though the words still sliced through the silence, “they are nothing more than the results of mass hypnosis, sanctioned by that goddess you worship.”

Amoria flinched, the weight of Van’s words crashing into her like a physical blow. Her eyes widened briefly, and her lips parted as if to respond, but no sound came out.

“Marcy was 100% right.” Van’s voice was now cold, his stare unyielding. “I shouldn’t be near your children, nor should I try to help them. I’m not a good person. I kept my mouth shut, even when you cried about cheating on me—letting you think it was your fault all these years. But it wasn’t. It was never you.” He paused, his voice trembling for a moment. “It was me. All of it.”

Amoria’s hands clenched, her trembling betraying the calm she tried to maintain.

“Twenty-three years,” Van continued, his voice lower but sharper, every word a blade cutting through the silence. “I knew about Magus’s abilities for 23 years. And I said nothing. We saw all of you as pawns—nothing but objects to manipulate, to defeat Alicia.”

He stepped forward, his voice rising. “And now?” He smirked bitterly, his words laced with venom. “She’s my wife. My. Wife.” His words lingered in the air, a declaration that seemed to freeze time itself.

Amoria’s lips quivered, her gaze slowly dropping to the floor as her legs shook under the weight of his revelation.

Van’s eyes flared with intensity. “The same woman who killed Millina… who slaughtered thousands of humans… the one responsible for OUR companion’s death?” He inhaled sharply, his voice erupting in a roar. “I LOVE HER!”

The room fell deathly silent, the weight of his confession hanging in the air, suffocating.

Van gritted his teeth, trying to suppress the image of Amoria that crept back into his mind—the comforting, motherly presence she had once been to him. He fought it. Hard. But the soothing image of her blurred with the loving image of his own mother from his previous world.

“I don’t need you,” he hissed, his words shaking as though he was convincing himself more than her. “I already have someone else that I love!”

Amoria stared at him, her lips barely moving. “You…” She could only whisper.

“Bastard…!” she finally cried out, her voice shaking with fury. Her grip tightened on her staff, her knuckles white with the pressure.

Suddenly, icy tendrils erupted from the floor, forming an ice prison around Van, courtesy of Lalyn. Marcy, positioned at a distance, raised a crossbow, her eyes trained on him with deadly precision.

“We really have…” came a voice from the shadows, sharp and cold.

“…Misjudged you, Van,” said one of the assassin sisters, stepping forward, her knife gleaming under the faint light.

“You’re as rotten as Salem…” her sister finished, both now flanking Van with their blades drawn, their voices dripping with contempt.

Marcy’s voice cracked as she screamed, “To think… I actually let you near my child… you bastard!” Tears filled her eyes, spilling over as she aimed her weapon at him, trembling with emotion.

The guild hall transformed, the atmosphere shifting from confusion to outright hostility, as weapons were drawn and Van found himself surrounded. The weight of their betrayal pressed down on him from all sides.

Surrounding him.

&7^(14*%2@^23(*Surrounding him^7#^14&#2$@#23&—

“Van?” Amoria asked, “Are you coming with us?”

“Hmm?” Van hummed, his attention back to the present, out of breath momentarily. “Sorry, was lost in thought…” He said as he scratched his head.

Amoria slightly furrowed her brow as she noticed the delay in his response. What he said just now felt like an excuse, “Are you… Alrig—”

Van immediately cut her off, waving his palm in front of her, “Yeah, yeah, haha, I’m really fine. I…”

“You’re sweating…” She said softly as she scrutinized him.

‘Fuck… Get your head straight..!’ Van scrutinized himself internally.

“Oh, this?” He said as he shot his eyebrows up, wiping his forehead, “I’ve spent the rest of my day with this armor… Gotten a little hot, you could say.” He argued with a casual expression, blinking rapidly as he looked at her.

‘I..’

‘… Like that about you, you know?’ Amoria thought as she looked at Van. ‘As much as I hate how you feel the need to do it around us… Around me…’

‘I just love how… bad you are at lying,’ she continued, watching his eyes flicker away every so often. Those lips, slightly pursed, and the lump in his throat that moved whenever he swallowed hard. ‘If you were any good at it… you’d realize that someone with resistance as high as yours can’t sweat, not even for a moment, whether it’s under the scorching sun or inside packed armor. I know this because I’ve spent plenty of time with someone like that. The only time he ever broke a sweat… was when he was stressed out.’ Her thoughts brought forth the familiar image of Magus.

‘I hate that you feel the need to do it… because I hate the feeling I get when something burdens you, and you won’t share it with me… I always did, even back then. I… I know it may sound pathetic… but I do… I really do want to make amends,’ she thought as time seemed to slow around her as she looked at his awkward, tense form.

’16 years… And while times have been rough for me and the others, I cannot imagine what it must have been like for you. How… Lonely it must have been, especially if you felt the need to come back here. I… I realize it might be hard to see that I care about you, and that I’m sorry.’ She briefly lowered her eyes in regret.

‘So, I won’t press you to talk to me. I won’t ask where you’ve been as we were about to face the demonic presences yesterday, or… Make you explain why you got a house contract… instead of staying with me,’ she thought, recalling how she had eavesdropped on his conversation with Anne earlier, when he’d mentioned the house.

“I see… you spent a lot of time in the armor, so it’s understandable… Anyway, come on! Don’t leave us hanging,” Amoria casually urged with a smile.

“Amoria. Uh… I have a house of my own.” Van’s words caused her to flinch.

For a split second, Amoria choked on her words, but managed to keep her smile. ‘Still… that doesn’t mean I won’t be… Sad about it… Or want to know how exactly you did it with your Untrusted skill, and my agreement with Sir Hicks to not let you buy a house.’

“Mom..?” Lizzy asked, noticing her mother’s unease.

“Do you, now…? That’s…” Amoria began, before Van gently cut her off.

“I know, I know. I didn’t mean to offend you. But, I didn’t want to intrude… So, I ran into Nickelson and we got a house contract.” Van glanced briefly at Lizzy with a muted sigh. The words ‘And now, your daughter will have an easier time’ hovered on the edge of his tongue, but he held them back. “I came to the guild to pick it up. I should’ve told you first, and—”

“Offend me?” Amoria tilted her head. “What are you talking about, Vanny? That’s great! I’m happy for you! I mean… Our door’s always open, but the fact that you and your dear father got a house of your own is fantastic!” she congratulated him with a smile, while Lizzy frowned at Van’s passing glance, her mind racing.

‘Is he… Maybe mad at me?’ Lizzy thought, recalling how, thanks to Michael’s best efforts, Van had been chased by an angry mob. ‘… I guess I am partly to blame, since I didn’t really try to stop what was happening. He may be mean… but he didn’t deserve getting chased down by all those adventurers… He may be unpleasant, but he isn’t the villain Michael makes him out to be…!!’

She thought back to the night Van had said to her, “I’m cool with being mean as long as you get some sleep,” during his stay at her and Amoria’s house.

Lizzy shook her head slightly, ‘… No, he couldn’t have meant well…! Especially with what he did to Michael… But… what is it that he did to Michael, or to me? Shooed him off, using Michael… liking me as a weapon? It might have been cruel… but can that really be compared to getting captured or beaten up by a mob of adventurers…?!’

“Liz,” Amoria called warmly, snapping her daughter’s attention back to her. “Come on. We need to go back home!” she cheerfully and gently urged.

“A-ah… alright, Mom…” Lizzy replied, holding her mother’s hand as the two left the guild together.

“Just remember,” Amoria said, turning around just before they left, “You can always change your mind! I’ll… we’ll be here!” she called with a smile before turning her back to him once more. Van couldn’t help but purse his lips slightly at her words.

‘Whatever it is that you’re keeping secret… however horrible you think it may be… I’ll always be on your side… like I should have been before,’ she thought regretfully as she left.

And as Van watched them disappear from view, he couldn’t help but assure himself.

‘… It’s better this way,’ he told himself. ‘No one needs to know. If I keep it all to myself, no one gets hurt or burdened with some unnecessary truths. And besides… I’ll leave this place once I’m done with this dragon threat…’

‘It…’ Van thought, clenching his fists silently as he stood in the darkness of the guild hall. ‘It really is better this way. Without them knowing. I’m going to outlive them anyway, so… I have to outlive them while knowing they had some… some level of love left for me,’ he reflected bitterly.

‘They would hate me with everything in them if they knew…’ His chest tightened, the realization striking him harder than he’d anticipated. He clenched his fists tighter, his nails digging into his palms. The weight of their eventual disgust—if they ever discovered the truth about Alicia—pressed down on him, suffocating the air from his lungs. His jaw clenched involuntarily, fighting the rising urge to scream.

‘But… Wait… No… NO… NO!! I actually don’t need that anymore…!! Alicia’s… Alicia’s enough for me! She’s all I’ll ever need..!!’

But the pressure in his chest only grew heavier, as though his very bones were conspiring against him, pressing inward, puncturing his heart and squeezing his lungs.

‘As long as she loves me… as long as Alicia loves me and I love her… I’ll be alright…! So, stop feeling this way…!! STOP…!!!’ He struggled to regulate his breathing, to chase away the suffocating tightness constricting his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing Alicia’s image to the forefront of his mind—the softness of her lips, the warmth of her skin—

But then his breath caught. The pressure refused to fade, the image of Alicia in someone else’s arms—even as jest—flickering into his mind like a cruel joke.

‘FUCK OFF..!!! FUCK OFF!!! I’M OVER IT…!!! I’M ALREADY OVER IT..!!! I FORGAVE HER..!!! WE FORGAVE EACH OTHER…!!! IT HAD NO MEANING…!!! WHY DO I SEE IT AGAIN ALL OF A SUDDEN!!? I’M ALREADY DEALING WITH SOME SHIT, WHY SHOVE THAT AGAIN, BRAIN!!?’

‘THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME…!! NOTHING WRONG WITH REJECTING THEM…!!’ He thought to himself, desperately trying to convince himself

Yet, the sword that had fractured his armor before now plunged deeper, cutting through the cracks. A sharp pain bloomed in his chest, like something cold and unyielding was being driven through his flesh, inching toward his heart. He winced, his hand instinctively clutching at his shirt, but no wound was visible. Yet the sensation persisted…

Real.

Insistent.

And it had no intention of fading.

Van’s breathing quickened, every inhale sharp and shallow. His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened on the counter, heartbeat pounding in his ears like a distant drumbeat—relentless, unforgiving.

But he forced himself to believe it again. He was in a good place. He had a home in the demonic realm. He had Alicia, a love that would last nearly forever…

And then Varlog’s words, like a ghostly presence, echoed in his mind just as his breath began to steady.

“… But you have to work hard to make sure no one steals her heart—”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!” Van bellowed, his voice breaking through the stillness, flinging his arm in a violent gesture. A heavy gust of wind followed, rattling the room, knocking chairs and tables askew.

“What happened!!?” Marcy shouted, bursting out from the storage room, her eyes wide as she looked at Van—standing alone, his palm resting on a shattered section of the guild counter, the wood split beneath his fingers.

“Van…?” Marcy’s voice broke the silence, soft yet laced with concern as she looked at his pale face, as if he’d seen a ghost. “What happened…!? Did someone—”

Van raised a hand, palm out toward her. “Nothing… I’m… I’m fine…” His breathing gradually steadied as he looked down, eyes wide, releasing the broken piece of wood he had gripped.

“… Stay here for dinner, and sleep,” Marcy said, her tone softening as she took in his vulnerable expression.

“No… I… I need to go to my new house—”

“If you don’t stay in the guild, and sleep in the room I’ve got available for you, I’ll personally destroy that house before you even get to see it,” she cut him off, her voice firm.

Van gulped, regaining some of his composure through her firm demeanor.

“I’ve got to watch over these demons anyway. Keep me company, helmet head,” she said, though it felt more like an order than a suggestion.

His breath was still uneven, his body trembling as though he’d run a thousand miles, but her calm, unwavering expression grounded him.

“A… Alright.”

“Good. Now, sit tight. I’m making dinner. For you and our… tenants,” she said, stretching and securing a headband as she made her way toward the kitchen behind the bar. “Oh, and before I forget, I also have to give you something, so it all works out,” She said before fading from view, causing Van to wonder momentarily.

Van sighed deeply as he sank into a chair at the bar. “Man… I’m more tired than I thought…” he muttered, feeling the tension slightly ease.

Varlog began his explanation, his voice steady and deliberate.

“One of the reasons the demons went to war was over resources. Your king’s and other races’ refusal to share with the demons, despite the growing tension, pushed things over the edge.”

That didn’t sit well with the girls, who exchanged uneasy glances.

But it was the second reason that truly unsettled them, regarding the Royal Academy.

“The other races also need heroes,” Varlog continued. “Heroes summoned and granted divine grace directly by the Gods.”

“So?” Lalyn interjected calmly. “While a summoning involves intricate mechanisms, formulas, and the coordination of several experts, along with the Goddess’s approval, that doesn’t mean it’s impossible for other races to summon heroes of their own.” Her explanation earned subtle nods from the room.

“If that’s all it required,” Varlog countered, “then we—the dragons, elves, or dark elves, with our much more experienced mages and longer lifespans—would have summoned heroes long before you humans ever did. It may seem to you as if the elves are simply in no need for such a hero, but that is because they mask their desperation well. Either way, like you, we are equally devoted to our gods. I have no reason to doubt the same applies to the other races.” His words made Lalyn frown slightly, her brows knitting in discomfort.

“Then why is it,” Varlog pressed, “that only humans have ever succeeded in performing the summoning ritual, despite having shorter lifespans and less experience?” His question drew the room’s attention, and even Van leaned in.

“The founder of this capital, the first protégé of the Goddess Varolia—Varolon, who was also a close friend of the first Demon Lord, Lucifer—shared with him that he received a vision from your Goddess.”

As Varlog paced the room, Lizzy’s curiosity got the better of her. Her eyes sparkled as she asked, “The demons and humans were once friends?”

“Liz!” Amoria’s voice was sharp, immediately drawing her attention back.

Varlog turned to the girl, kneeling slightly as he offered a warm smile. Amoria, however, tightened her grip on her staff, her body tense and ready.

Everyone appeared to be on edge…

Until Van placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Van…?” she called, her voice soft as she, along with the others, turned to him.

“It’s alright,” he said, his voice calm. “He won’t hurt her.”

Their eyes widened at his words. Questions swirled through their minds—How could he be so sure? He wasn’t exactly known for being the best judge of character.

Yet, despite their confusion, they instinctively lowered their guards. Marcy’s words echoed in Amoria’s mind.

‘Let’s trust Van,’ she remembered. With a reluctant sigh, she lowered her staff, though suspicion still lingered in the air. This act of trust towards the demonic advisor earned wary glances in Van’s direction, but for the moment, tensions eased enough for Varlog to continue.

“Young lady,” Varlog began, his tone reminiscent of a storyteller, “once there was less power in the world. Yes, there were powerful individuals, but fewer power struggles. It was a time of adventure and romance, when the goal was to explore and experience the world, rather than control it or claim resources.”

Lizzy, taken aback by the vigor in his voice, asked, “Do you like history… uh… Demonic Advisor?”

Her innocent question made Amoria, Lalyn, and Marcy flinch slightly at her friendliness toward the demon.

Van pursed his lips, ‘Can’t blame the girl. Varlog does love history. It’s actually fun listening to him talk about it… though I can’t say the same for everyone else here.’ He noted the tension in the room, with Yilla remaining alert, ready to act if necessary.

“At times, yes,” Varlog replied with a smile. “Other times, not so much, I’m afraid.” His hand twitched, as if instinctively reaching to pat Lizzy’s head like a child from his own realm. But sensing the animosity from the others, he quickly clasped his hands behind his back.

‘I almost let my guard down… too lenient in this place,’ Varlog thought, sighing inwardly. Lizzy tilted her head, curiously pondering the demon’s response as he straightened up and stepped away from her.

“Either way, where was I…? Ah, the vision,” he resumed. “Varolon envisioned great power in a specific location. He believed that if he built his city here, he and his descendants—generation after generation—would be blessed with power, divine protection, and… well, one other thing he was very clear about, according to the writings of the first Demon Lord.”

Varlog paused for effect, before continuing, “Otherworldly intervention in times of crisis. Varolon claimed this was a promise the goddess herself eagerly made, relaying those exact words to him.”

“And so,” Varlog gestured, “he built the Capital of Varolon on the spot the Goddess guided him to.”

With that, Varlog concluded his explanation.

“Several years later, when Varolon was too old and weak to fight, a crisis emerged. The gods of all races declared war on humanity, intending to annihilate them as per their divine mandates. All but Lucifer, who defied the Archdevil’s orders out of loyalty to his old friend, Varolon. He was punished severely for it, and the Demonic Realm opted out of the war entirely, choosing not to fight.”

Marcy, her patience wearing thin, spat out, “We know the legend. No need to repeat it! Just get to the point, old man! You’re basically saying you started this war because you wanted to summon a hero too, right? And that’s something only humans can do, huh?” Her tone dripped with irritation.

“Indeed…” Varlog sighed. “Alright. The point is this: what the Dragon King seeks, and what we sought in the last war, is the summoning circle. Or rather… what powers it. Before we waged this war, we were certain, through means I am not obligated to share, that something is buried beneath the circle. Something that allows the humans to summon a hero, its nature yet to be known.”

“What? So, all we need to do is dig it up, figure out what it is, and hide it from the Dragon King?” Marcy asked, incredulously.

“I suspect it won’t be that simple,” Lalyn interjected, earning a nod from Varlog. She then turned to Amoria. “Am I wrong?”

Amoria lowered her gaze. “…The place you’re speaking of is sacred, at least to our Goddess’s believers and the Holy Church of the capital. Digging it up… even if it could stop the Dragon King’s attack… would be extremely difficult,” she admitted, her voice heavy with the weight of the dilemma.

“Well, luckily, that’s not what I’m suggesting!” Varlog said, causing Amoria’s expression to brighten slightly. “We know for a fact this is tied to the academy. I’ve heard your Goddess relayed something similar to you, hm? There is indeed an object connected to the summoning ritual, but digging it up hastily could lead to severe disruptions—or worse, it could be damaged beyond repair.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Amoria asked, her tone cautious.

“We bring in our experts from the demonic realm to analyze the energy signature,” Varlog replied lightly. “They’ve got thousands of years of knowledge, and they’ll be led by me. This will allow us to figure out the safest way to extract and hide it. And under our pact of peace, as a show of good faith, I swear to you that any significant findings will be shared with you immediately.”

The girls exchanged troubled glances.

“We’ll have to think about it,” Marcy sighed, the uncertainty in her voice clear.

“In the meantime, we’ll remain here. I assume there’s no issue with that?” Varlog said, clasping his arms behind his back with a smile.

They all nodded, and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Van called out, stepping toward Varlog as he and Yilla ascended the stairs. “I haven’t had the chance to hear the legend in full. Some context would be helpful for me. You mentioned the Goddess told Varolon about an otherworldly intervention, and how the races declared war on the humans when he was old and weak. What happened next?”

His words caused the girls to pause and subtly turn their attention back toward Varlog.

The demon advisor gave a casual smile, clearly enjoying the opportunity to continue. Lizzy, watching, found herself puzzled at how calm Van seemed while speaking to Varlog so casually.

“Very well,” Varlog began, “the situation for the humans was dire. But Varolon held steadfast in his faith. He went to the exact spot the Goddess Varolia had shown him within the city he’d built, and with all his strength, performed the summoning ritual on his own—after everyone else had fled.”

Varlog’s eyes gleamed with interest as he spoke, his gaze fixed on Van. “On his own, Varolon carved the circle into the granite and summoned the first hero from another world. But that summoning drained him completely. The hero held Varolon as he died in his arms, with the king’s final breath begging the hero to save humanity and protect the city he’d given his life for.”

“So, he saved the city?” Van asked, his curiosity piqued.

“The city was actually destroyed by the alliance of the races after the humans fled,” Varlog explained, “but the first hero, moved by King Varolon’s determination, vowed to defeat the leaders of every race and reclaim humanity’s place. He swore to rebuild Varolon, and soon enough, he grew far too powerful to be stopped, even with the combined divine intervention of all the Gods. In the end, everyone kneeled. Goddess Varolia rose to the top of Arataxia, sparing the Gods after her protégé bested theirs in fair combat, earning their favor in the process—all but the Archdevil, whose top protégé, Lucifer, opted out of the war. That, as the story goes, is why.”

Varlog’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he continued, “And that is why we, the demons, have been able to go to war with you recently, while the other races could not. Our Archdevil was the only god who owed nothing to Goddess Varolia, thanks to Lucifer’s defiance—even though he was punished for it, Lucifer gave our realm a significant advantage.”

Varlog concluded with a calm smile, leaving the room in tense silence.

“And all of that… really happened?” Van asked, skepticism creeping into his voice.

“Yes. I believe everything unfolded exactly as it was foretold,” Varlog replied, the smile on his face unwavering.

Marcy clicked her tongue in annoyance, while Amoria bit her lip, clearly unsettled by his certainty.

“…Demonic Advisor,” Lalyn interjected, stepping away from the exit and back into the room. A trace of annoyance colored her voice. “We’re all familiar with this legend, but you claim it’s completely true? If it were, why is it that the Dragon King can still attack us? He serves the Dragon God, who is also part of the divine agreement not to intervene. And yet, he’s been doing just that for the past 16 years, ever since we defeated you, with no sign of divine intervention. Care to explain that?”

Lalyn’s eyes narrowed as she looked down on Varlog, a small smirk playing on her lips. Her words drew a chuckle from Marcy.

Varlog’s gaze sharpened as he met Lalyn’s eyes, brushing past Van as he spoke. “I’m sorry, are you saying there wasn’t divine intervention? I was under the impression that Arutol was slain just before he decimated your fair city… by divine intervention, no?”

Lalyn froze, her eyes widening as she looked around the room.

Van’s eyes darted upward in realization. ‘Me slaying that dragon wasn’t public knowledge… Ah, so that’s the story Sir Hicks came up with? Either way… Varlog…’

‘That demon…’ The girls all thought simultaneously as their eyes fixed on Varlog.

‘Is clever!’

‘As expected of Master Varlog,’ Yilla smiled in satisfaction, her glance briefly flicking to Van.

Lalyn took a soft breath and continued, her voice even.

“…About the recent attack, yes, that was likely blatant divine intervention. I’ll admit that much.” Lalyn sighed, her posture stiffening as she held her head high, her expression a mask of stoicism.

“But what about the last 16 years? There was no divine intervention. Magus was our main defense force. It was human intervention.” She paused before adding, “This tale you believe so wholeheartedly—about Arataxia, the gods going to war, and these ancient legends that are thousands of years old—has been rewritten and changed countless times. I repeat, it’s factually incorrect when you look at the past 16 years… unless you’re suggesting the gods’ agreement changed recently?”

“That… isn’t necessarily the case, Lalyn.” Amoria interjected, slowly raising her head.

“Divine intervention,” Amoria echoed aloud, her voice thoughtful. “Just what is divine intervention?” The priestess posed the question, causing everyone to turn toward her. “Now that I think about it… maybe the Goddess did intervene. She left Magus here for the last 16 years—a hero summoned via the circle. That was her intervention. And when he was gone…”

Her voice trailed off, the realization dawning on everyone in the room, except for Lizzy, as their eyes slowly shifted to Van.

‘Why is everyone looking at him…?’ Lizzy wondered, puzzled.

“She intervened herself,” Amoria concluded, her eyes gleaming with admiration as the revelation hit her. ‘It… it was him all along… The Goddess… She never hated Van! I-I knew it! This was all part of her divine plan… She must’ve brought him here for me. For me to make amends…! And keep us all safe..!! As for why the demons know him, there must be a good reason!’

Even Lalyn and Marcy—who were not believers—couldn’t help but feel a connection between Van and the divine in that moment. They studied him intently, processing the implications of Amoria’s words.

But Van felt differently.

‘I get what they’re saying. They think I’m the second divine intervention after Magus. It’s a logical conclusion, considering I was summoned alongside him,’ Van thought, glancing around.

‘But I came here by my own volition,’ he thought, lowering his head, his face paling. ‘No one… no one made me come here…!’

Memories flooded his mind—Alicia in someone else’s arms, his journey through the demonic realm, his emotional turmoil, Amoria’s betrayal, his departure and eventual return just as Arutol arrived.

‘No one… NO ONE MADE ME DO THIS…! That was my decision…! THESE WERE ALL My OWN decisions…!’ Van’s heart raced, his breath quickening. His iron glove tightened, cracking further under the pressure.

Varlog tilted his head slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face as he noticed the unease in Van’s eyes.

‘I controlled everything in my life… No one ‘Divinely’ led me here…!!! It was all just a coincidence. Just… just a coincidence!’ Van thought, forcing himself to control his breathing.

Just at his eye level—though his head was down so he didn’t see it—a message prompt appeared:

[The Goddess Varolia smirks in satisfaction as she watches your anxious, fearful reaction.]

[…And promises more to come soon.]

[A certain being veiled in shadows decides to step into the physical realm once more, frowning greatly at the sky.]

Before long, Van circled back and landed in front of the guild, gently lowering Anne to the dirt ground.

“There you go,” he said softly, letting her stand.

“Thanks…” She glanced around, stretching her arms. “No one’s here. I half-expected that annoying leech to be here with Lizzy, at least.”

‘Michael, huh?’ Van nodded, sighing internally.

“Maybe they’re inside,” he replied. “Anyway, let’s head in. I was on my way here too.” He turned toward the guild.

“Uh…” Her murmur made him pause and glance back. “What’s wrong?”

“…I only came here because Lizzy asked me to,” Anne said, hesitating slightly.

“Ah, I see. If it’s not urgent, don’t let me keep you.” He waved her off, about to continue.

“Wait,” she called after him.

“…?” Van turned again.

“Do… do you have anything to do this evening?” she asked cautiously.

“I’ve got to pick up a house contract from someone who’s supposed to stop by the guild soon, and a few other errands… for my dad,” he said, scratching his head. “Why?”

“W-well… I’m kinda hungry, haha,” she said awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Would you… I don’t know… want to grab something to eat? I-I mean, together…”

Van turned to face her fully.

“Sorry. My day’s packed, and I want to get settled into my new condo as soon as possible,” he replied flatly.

“A-ah… I see… Yeah, that’s cool.” She tried to meet his gaze, fidgeting slightly.

‘Of course… of course he avoided me.’ She sighed internally. ‘Here I am, complaining about Michael being clingy, but I’m doing the same thing. I barely know Van, and I’m already acting like we’re close enough for a date.’ She thought back to how people always mocked her behind her back for lacking charm or any seductive qualities.

“…But I could probably go out with you tomorrow,” Van said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“…W-what?” Anne’s head snapped up in confusion, as if she hadn’t heard him clearly.

Van repeated, “I’ve got a lot to do today, but tomorrow should work. Me and my dad travel light, so after we settle in, I don’t see why we couldn’t grab something to eat. If you’re cool with that.”

“W-what… I-I don’t…” She murmured, taken aback by his casual attitude, her eyes widening slightly.

‘D-… Did he just… say yes?’ she wondered, her mouth slightly agape, unsure of how to respond as a blush crept up her cheeks.

‘… Right, social anxiety,’ Van noted, watching her closely.

“Ah, never mind,” Van said lightly, waving her off. “I can’t ask you to wait until tomorrow night without eating, right?”

She tilted her head, confused by the remark.

“Forget it. You seemed a little out of it, so I made a joke,” he added with a small shrug.

Anne stood there silently, her heartbeat beginning to steady as she grasped the situation.

“….”

“…I put a lot into that joke. You’re supposed to laugh now,” Van said awkwardly.

A light scoff escaped her lips.

“You really suck at trying to lighten the mood, you know?” she sighed, folding her arms with a smirk.

“….” Van scratched his head, unsure how to respond.

Relaxing as she sensed his awkwardness, her smirk widened, her confidence returning. “Asking me not to eat until tomorrow… You’ve got some nerve,” she chuckled.

“We’d better go to a good restaurant then,” she concluded confidently with a smile as she turned and walked away.

‘…Haah… Well, looks like tomorrow’s booked,’ Van sighed as he turned and entered the guild. He sighed again, this time deeper, sensing the presence lurking behind a nearby dumpster. ‘Really, dude…?’ he thought, rolling his eyes as he pushed through the guild doors. ‘Oh well. Some people just learn the hard way. God knows I did.’

Meanwhile, behind the dumpster…

“That… bastard!” the boy muttered, teeth clenched in seething anger.

‘I waited here while Lizzy went back inside the guild because I was worried… But I never saw Anne look like that!’ His thoughts raced back to the moment he saw Anne ask Van out. ‘He… he definitely did something to her!’

His fist tightened as rage bubbled inside him. ‘Anne’s always been fierce, unrelenting, brave! For her to be reduced to this… he must’ve done something! But… the reason I didn’t jump out is because I… I can’t do anything to him. He’s too strong!’

His mind replayed Van’s encounters with the adventurers. ‘He even managed to escape from those adventurers… He has to be getting help. Maybe he and his father are working together… That’s gotta be it!’

‘Someone underhanded like him can never be truly strong! Real strength lies in friendship, bonds, and trust!’

But the bitter truth gnawed at him. ‘…Right now, I’m not strong enough. I can’t stop him.’ His resolve hardened. ‘But I will. I’ll borrow strength from someone who can. Even if I have to sell my soul to that bastard… I’ll do it to save her.’

The boy stood from his hiding spot, determination burning in his eyes as he began walking away. ‘I’ll turn to his good side. As much as I hate it, I know he’s powerful. He has people under him, he’s a summoner… And even though we’ve been enemies since kindergarten, I have to… for them.’

The faces of Anne, Lizzy, and even Melanie (Lalyn’s daughter) flashed before his mind.

‘Bernard Von Brayle…!!’ [REFER TO CHAPTERS 19 – 21]

As Van walked into the guild, he couldn’t help but think, ‘Man… Marcy is going to kill me. I bolted on her, stole this armor from the guild, disappeared for a day, and then made a scene in front of the guild before running off with her daughter. I’m definitely getting chewed out…’

…Or so he thought.

Instead, he was met with Marcy gently, repeatedly patting him on the back, a proud, blissful smile on her face as she hummed joyfully. Van could almost see flowers floating around her as she did it.

‘…Is she high?’ he wondered, confused.

“Very well done, Van Hellix,” Varlog said, approaching from the side. “Quite well-mannered. How inspiring!” he added with a proud look, though not nearly as warm as Marcy’s.

“…You handled it well, Van,” Amoria murmured weakly, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Adequate performance… Meatshield Junior,” Lalyn mumbled, standing to the side, her silky white hair falling over half her face as she looked away.

“H-huh?” Lizzy looked up at her mother in confusion. “What are they talking about, mom? Is it because he ran away from those adventurers?”

‘Ahh, right…’ Van realized. ‘I’m used to it with Varlog, but these three girls all have irregularly high perception stats, buffs, and blessings… I forget they’re all S-Ranks, at the top of their fields, boosted by Magus’s overpowered blessings. They must’ve heard everything me and Anne talked about—minus Amoria’s kid…’

‘Though they could’ve chosen not to listen. Bunch of eavesdroppers, you lot. Set an example for your kids! And is this really something that warrants this much of a reaction!?’ Van internally scolded, sighing in resignation as Marcy kept tapping his back, gently but firmly.

“I stole your gear, Marcy,” Van said flatly.

“It’s cool~ It’s really cool~” she responded with a warm, cheerful smile. “You brought everything back, haven’t you~? Then it’s cool~ Just keep being you, Vanny-boy~ You can keep the gear; it’s on the house~” She nodded joyfully, causing Amoria to flinch at her closeness.

‘What the hell did I do to make her like this!?’ Van wondered. ‘All I did was talk to Anne for a bit. Is she really this happy over such a small exchange? Is her daughter that much of a recluse? Is it really that bad? Michael flocks around her all the time; shouldn’t she be patting his back too!?’

Meanwhile, Lizzy stared in shock, her mouth nearly agape as she watched her fierce, unrelenting, and terrifying Aunt Marcy gently patting Van’s shoulder like a proud mother. ‘JUST WHAT DID HE DO!?’ she thought, bewildered.

Lalyn glanced at Amoria, briefly scrutinizing her tense posture before shifting her gaze back to Van.

“Either way, now that we’re all here, we need to talk,” Marcy said, giving Van one last pat on the back before moving behind the counter. “Liz, you’re heading to the Academy in four days, so you need to hear this too. Just be discreet about it,” she instructed, her tone firm. Lizzy nodded in acknowledgment.

“…Lalyn, where’s Mel?” Marcy asked.

“Studying,” came the simple reply.

“Alright. Just be sure to brief her,” Marcy sighed, her eyes briefly shifting to Lalyn before refocusing. “Amoria?”

‘…Odd… They didn’t tell Van to brief his father…’ Lizzy noticed as she observed Van’s casual posture. ‘Are they just that certain he’ll do it?’

“The Demonic Advisor and his assistant arrived at an… opportune time,” Amoria began, her voice trying to maintain a tone of indifference, but the discomfort was clear as she addressed Varlog and Yilla. “The Goddess sent me a vision— the Dragon King is searching for something in the Capital. The vision was vague, but I’m sure it’s connected to the Royal Academy.”

“Ah… Is that what this is about? The Royal Academy, you say? I might have an idea,” Varlog gently interrupted, drawing the group’s attention.

“…Do you know something about it?” Lalyn asked coldly, her voice sharp.

“Well, since we are at peace, I believe it’s safe to share with you…” Varlog began, his tone deliberate, instantly drawing everyone’s focus.

“I have strong reason to believe it’s connected to why we, the Demonic Realm, started our war on Varolon,” he murmured, his words snapping everyone to attention. Marcy’s fist tightened, Amoria’s gaze sharpened, and Lalyn subtly gripped the staff concealed in her robes.

‘Woah…’ Van thought, his eyes widening slightly. ‘Even I don’t know that one…’

As Van approached the guild, he couldn’t help but notice the large crowd gathered around it. Their faces were a mix of curiosity, but some, especially the older folk, bore expressions of resentment and anger. Among the crowd, a few adventurers stood out, their gear marking them as professionals.

‘Oh?’ Van thought, his eyes scanning the scene. ‘What’s this commotion about?’ he murmured under his breath as he casually approached the group. ‘Is it about Varlog and the boy?’ He wondered, thinking of Liliac.

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from beside him, followed by a tap on his shoulder. “Van! Where the hell have you been?”

Van turned his head, immediately recognizing the voice. “Anne,” he said, meeting her gaze as she stood close to him.

Across the square, Michael and Lizzy watched from a distance, their expressions darkening as Anne left their side to approach Van.

‘Again, that guy…!’ Michael thought, his brow furrowing. ‘We tried asking Anne what happened when they left the guild, but all she said was they finished early and hung out until the alarms rang… But that’s got to be a lie! And what’s with that armor he’s wearing?’ His fists clenched tightly at his sides. ‘He’s definitely up to no good. I have to protect them!’

Lizzy, standing beside Michael, frowned as her thoughts turned inward. ‘I know how Anne feels about Michael… I know they aren’t on the best of terms. But still, I somehow expected her to be on my side when I told her what happened at our house…’ She sighed, recalling the events with a sense of frustration. ‘But then…’

——-Flashback————–

“Ahh… He did that…?” Anne muttered meekly, her gaze dropping to the ground.

“I mean, he didn’t mean anything by it to me… He just wanted Michael out of there. But he ended up hurting his feelings so cruelly. You’d understand, right, Anne?!” Elizabeth said, her voice almost enthusiastic, as if seeking validation.

“Oh…” Anne responded, and Liz noticed her shoulders loosening. “So… He didn’t mean anything by it… Like, you and Van are not… close, or anything?”

At first, when she said it, I thought she was concerned for me…

“What!? NO! He’s just a brute and a womanizer! I’d never go near him!” I snapped back, almost too swiftly.

… But I couldn’t have been more mistaken.

“Oh… So, you’re not close… I see.” Anne murmured, her eyes still downcast. I could see the relief flooding her face, her muscles relaxing. I could tell… Anne likes him. I just… I just couldn’t comprehend what in the world she saw in him.

‘What…!?’ I thought.

———————

“My mom told me you ran out on her!! And then stole some armor and LEFT!! Where did you go!?” Anne almost yelled, crossing her arms in frustration.

‘Oh… So she’s berating him…!’ Michael thought as he overheard her sharp tone, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. ‘So… Anne! You can see who he really is, like I do, right?!’ Michael’s excitement began to rise, thinking she was finally seeing Van for what he believed him to be.

‘Wait… But… Ran out on MARCY?! How did he…?’ Lizzy’s mind raced as the realization hit her.

“Sorry. I just needed to… Uh, check up on my dad. Haven’t heard from him,” Van replied coolly.

“Where DOES your father live…? I thought you were staying with Lizzy and her mom…” Anne questioned, her voice still filled with suspicion.

“Oh…” Van paused, briefly glancing at Lizzy before answering. “Neither of you have to worry about that. I have my own place starting today.” His words caused Lizzy’s eyes to widen in surprise.

‘Woah, really..? I tried preparing myself to having to live with him every day until the Academy starts… But I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore…’ she thought, though she couldn’t quite shake the slight tinge of frustration creeping in. ‘… But why does it make me feel so… UGH!’ Lizzy internally growled, nearly stomping in place.

Meanwhile, Michael felt an odd sense of relief seeing Lizzy’s anger seemingly directed at Van… yet also an unsettling frustration.

‘Liz… That bastard’s not worth your anger…! Why are you getting so upset that he’s moving out…?!’ Michael’s mind began to spiral as his gaze shifted from Lizzy back to Van. ‘Did he… Really… Do something to either of them?! To Lizzy too, that night he was staying with her?!’ His fists clenched tightly, teeth grinding as his thoughts ran wild.

“Oh… I-I… wasn’t really worried…” Anne’s booming tone dropped several decibels, her voice growing softer. “But… maybe if you didn’t have a place… you could… uh… crash… you know… with… m-me…” Anne stuttered, a deep blush coloring her cheeks.

Van let out a playful chuckle, raising an eyebrow as he studied her reaction. “Hah, am I that handsome you wanted me around?” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

Anne’s face turned an even brighter shade of red before she forcefully shoved him. “You’re uglier than a bowl of spoiled prunes, you damn bastard! WHO WANTED YOU AROUND!?” she cried out, her voice cracking as Van chuckled at her flustered state.

Just as she was about to smile despite herself, Lizzy glanced to her side and noticed something was off—Michael was gone.

Oh no…

“STAY AWAY FROM ANNE, YOU BASTARD!” Michael’s shout rang through the square, causing a few adventurers huddled in the crowd to turn toward the commotion. He charged at Van, shoving him hard. But to Michael’s dismay, Van stood completely still, unaffected by the push, while Michael stumbled backward, losing his balance and falling flat on his back.

“Ahh…” Van let out, slightly surprised by the unexpected attack.

“YOU DUMBASS, THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?” Anne shouted, glaring down at Michael.

Michael, however, completely misunderstood her frustration, thinking she was yelling at Van. “Yeah!!! WHAT WERE YOU DOING TO ANNE!?” Michael thought, eager to seize the moment and show his bravery. ‘What the hell… I’ve been training magic and swordsmanship every day just to protect Liz and be strong, but he didn’t even budge when I pushed him…!!’ His thoughts spiraled in frustration as he struggled to get back on his feet.

“N-NO, I WASN’T YELLING AT VAN, I WAS YELLING AT YO—” Anne began, but her words were cut off by one of the adventurers in the crowd.

“HEY LOOK! THAT ARMORED BASTARD TRIED TO ASSAULT THIS GIRL!” someone shouted, immediately fueling the chaos. The false narrative, unintentionally sparked by Michael, spread like wildfire through the crowd—thanks to Van’s cursed [Untrusted] passive skill.

In an instant, the once curious, slightly agitated crowd turned hostile. Their gazes snapped toward Van, and the adventurers, along with many who had been inside the guild, rushed outside to join the mob, intensifying the already tense atmosphere.

The sudden mass exodus of adventurers from the guild left Marcy and Amoria in shock. They had been focused on managing the adventurers’ initial fury, trying to prevent them from attacking their guests….

… Varlog and Yilla.

“Oh my, what do you think is going on outside?” Varlog asked, his voice calm but curious, as he stood behind Marcy and Amoria with Yilla.

“YOU TELL ME!” Marcy barked, her frustration evident. “Is this one of your tricks, DEMONIC STRATEGIST?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Marcy, enough…” Amoria said softly, standing beside her at the counter. “You don’t know he’s done anything.”

Varlog stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hmmm, they looked rather angry when they left… So something more upsetting than our presence must’ve drawn them outside.”

“WHAT!?” Marcy exclaimed, her brow shooting up. “JUST WHAT IN THIS ENTIRE WORLD COULD BE MORE UPSETTING THAN A DEMO—”

She froze mid-sentence, eyes widening in sudden realization. The recognition dawned on her at the same moment it did for Amoria, Yilla, and Varlog. They exchanged knowing looks.

In unison, they all said one word:

“Van.”

They all nodded in agreement, as Marcy growled under her breath.

“DAMN IT, THAT HELMET-HEAD’S PASSIVE AGAIN!” Marcy muttered in frustration. All of them turned to the exit and began walking there in unison.

‘Why…’ Amoria thought as she glanced at the two demons, her brows furrowing. ‘Why would “Van” be the first thing they’d say? They said it so naturally, like it was obvious… It almost completely flew over my head… Did Marcy not notice…?’ Her eyes shifted from the demons to Marcy, uncertainty clouding her thoughts.

‘Just… what ties does Van have with them…?’ Amoria’s anxiousness began to swell, a creeping feeling that didn’t escape Varlog’s sharp observation.

‘Ah… we might’ve made a mistake…’ Varlog realized, sensing her growing unease. ‘She’s sharp,’ he thought, casting a brief glance back at Amoria, recognizing that she was beginning to put the pieces together. ‘I really am growing old…’ Varlog sighed.

Meanwhile, the scene outside was spiraling further into chaos.

Lizzy stood behind Michael, watching as he raised his fists in a mage’s stance, ready for a fight. She was utterly confused—and irritated.

‘Wait, I dislike that guy, but to say HE ASSAULTED Anne…?!’ Lizzy thought, narrowing her eyes in disbelief.

“Michael, STOP! It was just playful banter—” Lizzy tried to reason, her voice carrying through the crowd. But Michael cut her off, turning to face her with a determined expression.

“Don’t worry, LIZ! YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE SCARED…!” he declared, his voice softening as if to reassure her. “I’m… here for you two!” His gaze lingered on her, causing Lizzy to narrow her eyes at him, almost in pity.

Meanwhile, Van stood there, utterly bewildered, second-hand embarrassment seeping in.

‘Poor guy…’ Van thought, shaking his head slightly. ‘Amoria was right, maybe I did go too far back at her condo… But believe me, kid.’ His eyes landed on Michael, and his thoughts continued. ‘One day, you’re going to look back at this moment, and you’ll cringe so hard, you’ll want to die. Talking from experience here…’ He sighed, forcing a smile as if to hold back his own cringe.

“YOU DUMBFUCK, I WAS TALKING TO YO—” Anne began to shout, her frustration aimed at Michael, but Michael, suddenly emboldened, cut her off, finding courage from seemingly nowhere.

“ANNE, STAY AWAY! I won’t let him hurt you anymore!!” Michael roared, his voice filled with misplaced conviction.

The crowd erupted, spectators cheering Michael on as if he were a hero stepping into battle.

“That kid…”

“Yeah… So young, yet so brave. He doesn’t seem to be much, but his bravery shines through…”

“He’ll be someone who leads people. I can tell. He’ll… grow really strong someday.”

“Damn, I’m almost proud. Our capital does produce the best of the best, huh?” The spectators murmured amongst themselves, looking at Michael with newfound respect.

“So… WHY IN THE GODDESS’ NAME IS THAT SCUMBAG MAKING THAT EXPRESSION!?” one of them shouted, pointing at Van. Van, biting his lower lip and puffing his cheeks in exasperation, folded his arms as he watched Michael. The second-hand embarrassment was hitting him hard—he silently thanked all that is mighty and pure that he wasn’t Michael in that moment.

“You bastard… Mocking me after daring to touch her… I won’t forgive you!” Michael growled.

“HE TOUCHED HER!?” an adventurer shouted, the words sending shockwaves through the crowd, riling them up further.

“HEY, YOU BASTARD! I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE, BUT THIS IS THE CAPITAL OF VAROLON! HERE, WE’RE ALL ONE! IF YOU’RE A CRIMINAL, YOU’LL FACE ALL OUR WRATH!” another adventurer yelled at Van.

‘T-… There’s no stopping this dumbass…!’ Anne thought, visibly flinching at Michael’s loud declaration as she nervously eyed the agitated crowd.

Van took a deep breath and exhaled in resignation, looking at Michael.

‘Jesus, kid… If you’re worried about looking good around these two, rest assured. I’m not into minors, and I don’t stand in your way. Heck, when you calm down a little, I’m ready to be your wingman, considering this colossal fuckup you’ve just made.’ He sighed inwardly, ‘I’m Uncle Van and all, so I just wanted to protect these girls’ mental health; or something like that. And considering you’ve been a drain on one of them, I acted with that in mind, but…’ He thought back to Marcy’s words.

——FLASHBACK————

“She’s my kid, not yours. Got a problem with that?” Marcy had said to him, her tone firm.

——————————-

‘… I was just being delusional. Fulfilling some desire to be worth something,’ Van concluded with a sigh. ‘Like Varlog said, maybe I was desperate to be needed, so I went out of my way to do those things for them.’ He let the thought linger before nodding to himself. ‘But I don’t need that anymore, because after all…’

A warm smirk crept onto his face as he conjured the image of Alicia in his mind, ‘I found my heart.’ He opened his eyes again, gazing at the fuming Michael, the even-more-confused Anne, and the bewildered and embarrassed Lizzy.

‘Either way, I need to get to the guild. I want to check where Varlog is… Ugh, I should’ve asked that piece of shit Nickelson where he was.’ He thought, glancing at the crowd.

‘But damn. Marcy and Amoria must be swamped dealing with these hot-headed bastards… It’s going to be tough getting anything done…’ An idea began to form in his mind as he looked down, a spark of amusement flickering in his eyes.

“What’s all your problem!? He didn’t do anything!!” Anne shouted, trying to calm down everyone’s hostility towards Van.

“DON’T WORRY, YOU’RE MARCY’S DAUGHTER, RIGHT!?” one of the adventurers called back. “COME TO US, HE WON’T HURT YOU! YOU DON’T HAVE TO SHIELD HIM!!”

“I swear, you’re all just a bunch of retar—” Anne snapped, but before she could finish, a sound cut through the turmoil.

A laughter.

It echoed ominously, coming from Van just as Marcy and Amoria pushed through the crowd, their heads popping out to witness the commotion.

“Hmhmhmhmhmhmhm….” Van chuckled menacingly, sending chills down the spines of a few onlookers. Before anyone had realized it, he had already slipped his helmet back on, hiding his face behind the dark, imposing visor.

“I sense… evil coming from him…!” a B-Rank Runemaster uttered, his voice trembling slightly.

“Van…?” Anne called out, narrowing her eyes in curiosity. Her tone was laced with concern as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

“MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Van erupted into laughter, his arms sprawling out dramatically as he looked up toward the sky.

“brrrRRAAAAAAAKA-MONO-GAAA!!! DOITSU NO KAGAKU WA SEKAI ICHI!!!” he bellowed with a menacing cackle, his voice echoing across the square.

“IS THAT…!?” one of the spectators whispered, their eyes wide in shock.

“SO MUCH EVIL… IT HAS TO BE… DEMON TONGUE! HE’S CASTING A CURSE!!” an A-rank mage exclaimed, the sudden realization causing gasps to ripple through the crowd.

‘Uhm, you sure…? It sounds like some dumbass gibberish he made up on the spot; like how Father always did to make us laugh… It sounds… almost exactly the same…’ Anne thought, narrowing her eyes at Van’s exaggerated theatrics, a small pang of nostalgia hitting her unexpectedly.

“Oh, I recognize that one,” Varlog mused to Yilla as they observed from the guild.

“Ah, yes. The ‘Ah-Ni-May’ relaxation technique, number 51… The ‘Joh-Joh Nahtsee,’” Yilla said calmly, the two nodding knowingly at each other.

“He must’ve thought of something. Seeing as he’s so calm,” Varlog remarked as he took a deep breath. “Let’s sit comfortably until he gets here, dear?”

“Yes, Master Varlog. I sense it won’t be long now.”

Meanwhile, outside, both Anne and Lizzy stood frozen, their expressions confused, as Michael mirrored the wariness of the surrounding spectators. Everyone stared at Van, trying to predict his next move.

‘…What is he doing now…?’ Lizzy thought in resignation, watching Van’s exaggerated movements with growing confusion.

“Wait, everyone!” Amoria called out, but her voice was drowned by the noise of the crowd. “That’s not demonic tongue, it’s—” She started, but stopped when Marcy tapped her shoulder, prompting her to pause.

“Marcy!? We need to stop them before anyone gets hurt!” Amoria urged, but her words faltered as she noticed the serious expression on Marcy’s face.

“Amoria,” Marcy began softly, “you want to make amends for what we did, don’t you?” Her words caused Amoria to lower her gaze in thought. “Then… let’s start with putting some trust in him. For real this time,” Marcy said, her tone serious.

Amoria hesitated but eventually looked at Van, her worried gaze shifting as she decided to follow Marcy’s advice, choosing to stay quiet.

“Yesss,” Van’s voice boomed, “I have ASSAULTED THIS GIRL HERE! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” His laughter echoed as he pulled Anne into his arms in her confusion, causing her face to flush red.

“YOU BASTARD!” Michael roared. “LET GO OF HER!!!” He screamed, charging forward.

“MUAHAHAHAHA!!!” Van continued laughing theatrically as he held Anne close, pretending to have taken her hostage.

“VAN, STOP! LET GO OF—” Anne stammered, her face flushed as she glanced down at his hand encircling her waist. Her blush deepened, but she didn’t resist.

‘Oh, did she catch on to what we’re doing?’ Van thought with a satisfied grin.

“FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLISH ADVENTURERS!” Van began loudly, and then, in perfect English, he added, “This is the day you will always remember as the day you almost caught…”

“CAPTAIN… JACK… SPARROW!!!” Van concluded dramatically.

In the next moment, Van lifted Anne into a princess carry. Her surprised shout echoed across the square.

“VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNnnnnnn~” Anne’s cry trailed off as Van bolted with her in his arms, leaving a thick cloud of dust behind them. The crowd erupted into chaos.

“He took Anne…!! No…!!” Michael gasped, his eyes wide in shock. An adventurer patted his shoulder reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, kid, trust your adventurers!” she said with a confident smile. “We’ll get her for you! He’ll never get away!” Her words eased Michael’s tension slightly, causing him to relax, if only a little.

“HE TOOK HER AS A HOSTAGE!” one adventurer screamed, rallying the others. “GET HIM!” The mob roared in unison, weapons and armor clanking as they began the chase, kicking up a dust trail that could be seen from the guild entrance.

As Van darted down the street, weaving through narrow alleys and leaping over obstacles, he couldn’t help but grin under his helmet. He felt Anne fidget in his arms, her face flushed from embarrassment.

“Van! What are you doing?!” she asked, trying to maintain her composure despite being carried. “Put me down! They’re going to think you’re actually kidnapping me!”

Van’s laughter echoed as he leaped over a crate, never slowing his pace. “Relax, Anne. This isn’t the first time I’ve outrun an angry mob. Besides, they’ll all be too focused on chasing me to realize what’s really going on.”

She blinked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“All of them are chasing us now, right?” Van glanced down at her with a smirk, effortlessly dodging an adventurer’s wild swing as they entered an open square. “That means your mom and Amoria have a bit of breathing room back at the guild.”

‘So now I could get through to them to check where’s Varlog without interruptions…’

Anne’s eyes widened. “Wait… You did all this just to draw them away from the guild!?”

He chuckled. “Something like that. Those hot-headed adventurers need something to focus on, and I figured this’d be perfect.”

Anne’s mouth hung open for a moment as the realization hit her. “Ah…” She stopped mid-sentence, a blush creeping over her cheeks as she glanced up at him. ‘He’s doing all this… just to help Mom and Aunt Amoria?’

Despite her initial protest, she found herself not minding the situation as much. ‘He’s… different from before,’ she mused, sneaking a glance at him. ‘He seems… freer… Did something happen? She paused, shaking the thought. ‘Wait, more importantly…!!’

As the chase continued, Anne noticed something strange. “Wait, how are you outrunning A-rankers and B-rankers like it’s nothing?!”

Van glanced down at her, an internal sigh escaping him. Oh, right. Secret identity. Fuck.

“My… uh… dad passed down a speed skill to me,” he said, his face hardening as he tried to keep it together.

“Huh… Skills can be transferred? That doesn’t sound right. Sure, talent for skills, but I’ve never heard of actual skill transfer…” she said, watching him carefully as they darted between streets.

Van stumbled slightly, stuttering, “Uh… oh, you wouldn’t know. It’s a special skill, called Speed 4 All. It’s a transferable speed skill, but I had to, uh… eat his hair to get it.”

“R-right…” Anne responded, wincing internally at the odd explanation, but choosing not to dwell on it.

Her heart raced, but she quickly pushed the thought aside. “Wait, if they’re after you, you can drop me and make your escape! Aren’t I slowing you down?” She said the words, but her body made no effort to squirm free.

“I need to drop you off at the guild. That’s where you were headed when we saw each other, right? And Speed 4 All isn’t affected by weight. Real handy.” He kept his voice calm, his face hardening so much, it turned into iron.

“O-oh, right…” Anne said, narrowing her eyes slightly as she studied him. ‘Something tells me this bastard’s got an iron face behind that mask.’

“Haha…” Van chuckled softly as he looked ahead, running with Anne in his arms.

———————————————–

“Von Stroheim FUCKING SUCKS, MAN! HE’S A NAZI!” Van shouted in frustration.

“You suck even harder,” Magus retorted sharply. “You just fail to understand the genius of German science! BRRRAAAKAMONO-GAAAA!!! DOITSU NO KAGAKU NO SEKAI ICHI!!!”

“Pfft. So stupid,” Van muttered. “You and your ‘Ah-ni-may’ stuff. I tried that JohJoh crap all those years ago and that anime about that dude who got powers from eating some macho-man’s hair (lol), but that was still tame. I could only handle it until the Nazi dude showed up in JohJoh, then I dropped it. Why would you even cooperate with a Nazi!?”

“You know what, I’m done talking to you,” Magus snapped. “You barely know anything about anime, sticking to your stupid real-life TV shows and stupid real-life movies. Captain Jack Sparrow wouldn’t last two seconds in Stroheim’s range. He’d be toast.”

“In your dreams. There’s no one smarter than Captain Jack; he’d have PREDICTED THE ATTACK 5 HOURS BEFORE IT HAPPENED!” Van replied confidently.

“NO, HE WOULDN’T; VON STROHEIM HAS 5,000 IQ! JACK WHO?!” Magus mocked, throwing his hands up.

“STROHEIM IS A NAZZZZIIIIIII!” Van shouted back, exasperated.

Magus rolled his eyes as Millina approached, overhearing their conversation in English—a language unfamiliar to them.

“Magus, what are you two even talking about?” Millina asked, her confusion evident.

“Ahh… don’t worry about it,” Magus said dismissively.

“Just some nonsense.”

“Just some nonsense.” Both Van and Magus responded in unison, turning around to face Millina and the other girls, who had been listening in.

————————

‘… Really…’ Van thought, his expression softening as he lowered his gaze.

‘Just a bunch of nonsense.’

“Such a childish display of strength, Hellix,” Nickelson remarked, his voice dripping with disdain. “You threw Cerille’s sword the moment you saw me. Was that some feeble attempt to undermine my credibility or respect?”

“I’ll admit, I’m childish in more ways than not,” Van responded flatly, the sword strapped to his back. “But trust me, Nickelson, if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have been so indirect. That guard was particularly obnoxious, and seeing your face from afar was the final straw.”

Nickelson went silent, his gaze fixed ahead as they walked side by side through the capital’s gates.

“Threats won’t get you far,” Nickelson finally said after a pause. “Especially not here.”

Van let out a soft, mocking chuckle, recalling the Royal Guards’ silence when he displayed his strength.

“Are you suggesting I find someone to torture for no reason? Seems to have worked wonders for you,” Van spat cynically, his eyes scrutinizing Nickelson’s pristine armor, a symbol of the respect and status he commanded.

“Whatever my reasons for what I did back then, Hellix, I had connections,” Nickelson replied, his tone cold and detached. “I made more, and then I made a name for myself through battles and spectacle. As much as you think you’ve suffered, you’re not—and never were—nearly as important as you believe, especially in relation to my status now. Whatever moments we shared might amount to a mere fraction of my time.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Van shot back. “But don’t mistake this: we didn’t share anything. The only thing you and the other guards shared was the fear that Magus would fuck your wives. And he would have, considering he was balls deep in your queen. So, you took those frustrations out on me and went on with the other 99% of your oh-so-busy schedule.”

Nickelson clicked his tongue in irritation, looking away as they continued walking. A heavy silence stretched between them as they marched under the shadow of the capital’s mighty walls, the end of their path drawing near.

Van’s mind flashed to the memory of Nickelson shielding Cerille with his body as he let out a deep sigh.

“Either way, take it,” Van said, his voice steady as he unstrapped the sword from his back and handed it to Nickelson. “Your daughter’s sword.”

Nickelson looked at Van, narrowing his eyes as he accepted the sword, Van’s own gaze was fixed ahead.

Without a word, he reached out, expecting resistance. But Van relented, releasing the sword into Nickelson’s grip without hesitation.

Dozens of words and arguments lodged in Nickelson’s throat, along with questions that demanded answers. After a brief pause, he finally spoke.

“…Why don’t you hurt me for what I’ve done?” he asked, Van’s head flicking upward slightly. “Even back then. You had every chance to finish me, and you didn’t take it.”

“Considering your monstrous strength, you could do it right now—wipe me from existence, and no one would ever know. Is your respect for… That Varlog’s teachings so great that it overshadows everything I’ve done to you?” Nickelson continued, his tone biting. “Or are you just a coward, like the Meaty you were back then?”

“I do want to hurt you,” Van admitted, his voice even. “And you’re right. As much respect as I have for Varlog, even he wouldn’t say a word if something happened to you. He’s the one who taught me that honesty sometimes means lying to everyone else. He’s a part of that group.”

“Then why don’t you finish it!?” Nickelson snarled, his teeth clenched in frustration.

“Because then I’d be hurting two people, not just you,” Van replied, his voice softening.

“..!!”

“Cerille has nothing to do with what’s between us. She’s a good person, unlike us,” Van said, recalling how she had cared for Anne when she was about to be harmed by that water spell back at the pool.

In that moment, memories of his parents in his original world surfaced—the unconditional love they had given him. And then, how Nickelson had reminded him of that love when he shielded Cerille.

“She doesn’t deserve to lose her parent,” Van added, his voice almost gentle, his head bowing slightly as they stepped into the light of the Royal Capital under the noon sun.

“SIR NICKELSON!” The guards at the exit of the wall stood at attention as they noticed him.

Nickelson waved his hand, signaling the guards to stand down. “At ease,” he instructed as he and Van walked past them.

“Who is that…?” one guard asked his companion, eyeing Van with suspicion.

“He looks suspicious…”

“But he’s with Sir Nickelson! He must be someone important! Show some respect!” The guards whispered among themselves as the two figures moved further away.

“Is this all? I have someplace to be,” Van said as he continued walking.

“HELLIX!” Nickelson called out, making Van stop and turn. Nickelson was securing Cerille’s sword in his holster.

“What?”

“I hate being indebted. Especially to someone like you,” Nickelson said, stepping closer. “You saved my daughter. I repaid that debt by keeping your involvement with the Demon Lord a secret. The other debt is for saving the city from that bone dragon and securing allies for the dragon threat—something I should have done myself,” he said, his voice growing more intense as he approached Van.

“Name your price. Do it now,” Nickelson demanded, standing face-to-face with Van.

‘Price, huh…? I know just what.’

“Then, money,” Van replied. “The coins you got from the quest you seized from Marcy. I want it all, considering I took care of it. Should be enough to buy a high-profile castle here and live in it for a year—something Marcy herself confirmed.”

“…Correct,” Nickelson agreed, though reluctance was clear in his voice.

“And I want you to get me a house near the Royal Academy. Something clean, sturdy, and with a quick path to it and the markets. It shouldn’t stand out, but it can’t be rundown either. Use the money from the quest to make it happen. If I were to buy a house myself, I’d probably get conned. I want it TODAY,” Van demanded firmly.

“…Anything else?” Nickelson asked, his eye twitching in barely concealed frustration.

“Noble status,” Van demanded. “I heard it from Sir Brennan. A Greatknight like you could make it happen. I want to go places without your pesky guards questioning me every time I take a piss.”

“That would be—!” Nickelson erupted, but Van cut him off.

“—POSSIBLE,” Van emphasized. “Now that you’re known for making demons submit, no one would dare question it. Am I wrong?”

“And with the respect you treated me at the entrance, it would be odd not to grant me such a title. Wouldn’t you agree?” Van pressed.

“Tsk,” Nickelson clicked his tongue in frustration. “Fine. Consider it done.”

“Great. One last thing.”

“What now…!?” Nickelson’s voice wavered as he clenched his fist.

“Keep that daughter of yours safe. No matter what,” Van said, removing his helmet.

Nickelson’s tension eased slightly, his brow furrowing as he scrutinized Van’s calm expression.

“… Have you taken a liking to my daughter, Hellix?” Nickelson nearly growled.

“Yeah. Like I said, unlike her father, she’s a good person,” Van replied.

“Hmph,” Nickelson grunted. “I don’t need you to tell me that, Hellix.”

Van fell silent, his eyes meeting Nickelson’s; noticing a fleeting hint of hesitation and regret in the Greatknight’s eyes. Memories of Cerille, alone before his arrival, flashed through his mind.

“… Very well then,” Van said, turning on his heel. “Find me at the guild.”

Without another word, Van walked away, disappearing from the exhausted Greatknight’s sight.

He headed toward the Guild’s bustling building, but just before reaching it, he unexpectedly turned down a dark, abandoned alleyway nearby.

“My perception may not be sharp enough to see you, but I know you’re there. Come ou—…” Van halted, looking down.

“Please, come out,” he pleaded more softly.

Before long, two silhouettes emerged from the shadows behind him, a swift brush of air accompanying their movements.

They were silent, their expressions unreadable. Not a word was spoken.

Van waited, giving them the opportunity to speak, but when they didn’t, he began.

“… I may not always think things through,” Van started after taking a deep breath. “But I’m not a complete fool.”

“I know. I know it was all too perfect. Amoria finding me in Magus’s grave, Marcy arriving at the pool at just the right moment, and Lalyn entering the church to dispel my runes. It was all you, wasn’t it?” He asked, keeping his gaze forward.

“…”

The faint sound of breathing reached his ears, barely audible.

“I said I wouldn’t trust you again. But I was in a pretty bad place back in Salem’s dungeon, and afterward. I was too overwhelmed to consider how you must have felt,” he continued.

“… You were so scared for your life, and then you had to hear me speak in demonic tongue. Realistically, you have every reason to want me dead,” he said, noticing the subtle tension in their lips.

“… What were you…”

“… Doing in the Demonic Realm…”

“… Van?” they softly asked in unison.

‘…’

“What if I told you that’s not something I can easily explain?” Van replied, stretching his body slightly.

“Then we will pursue…”

“… it no further,” they said.

‘Fuck it.’

“I met the—..” Van began, but a sudden tinge of fear struck him.

They would definitely hate him if they knew the truth. They were attached to Millina, filled with remorse and thirst for vengeance. They were among the few who were furious that the Demon Lord survived, even after being defeated.

Van knew this all too well.

No one is that understanding. No one could comprehend the way he feels and still look at him without judgment. Such a luxury was reserved only for someone like Magus.

He didn’t need to see their faces to feel it. He could imagine their expressions twisted with anger and malice—the look of disgust and discontent. To propose to the woman responsible for so many deaths…?

“… The demonic advisor. Varlog. I was lost, and he gave me some odd jobs. As thanks, he invited me into his house, and we would eat together every now and then.”

‘… It’s not a lie,’ he thought.

But the sisters were masters of interrogation, often operating without the truth stone. They sensed that Van was holding something back. They noticed the hesitation in his voice, the ambiguity in his words.

A thought crossed their minds.

Is he really not trusting us, despite what he’s saying now?

“If you don’t believe me, give me a truth stone, and—” Van started, but they cut him off.

“Such a thing would be…”

“… unnecessary. We believe…”

“… you.”

“No matter what, we’ll…”

“… believe you,” they concluded.

“Is this because you feel indebted? If so, don’t. We’re even. No one’s hunting me down, and you kept my Demonic Tongue a secret,” Van said, feeling a small pang of guilt twist in his gut as he spoke.

“Then, I’ll leave,” he added, turning to walk away.

“Van.” One of them called softly, stepping closer. He could feel the warmth of their bodies through his armor.

“Is there…”

“… truly nothing more…”

“… that weighs on your heart?”

“Please…”

“… share it with us, and we will try to…”

“… lessen it,” they murmured, their voices gentle and sincere.

Van stood silent for a moment, staring at the ground.

‘You wouldn’t say that if you really knew what I want to say,’ he thought, the words echoing in his mind.

‘You really wouldn’t.’

“Nah.” He took a step forward, turning around with a forced, casual smile. “There’s really nothing weighing on my heart. Stop acting so weird! Come on, you’re master assassins… and you’re your own masters now. You don’t have to pretend around me anymore!” He said lightly, tapping their shoulders simultaneously, remembering the forced hospitality and gentle words they had spoken under Salem Dyke’s influence.

Passing them, he continued toward the guild’s building. “I’ll see you later! Stay safe,” he waved as he exited the alleyway…

…not noticing their soft gasps as he lightly patted them.

“We were never…”

“… pretending…”

“… around you,” they murmured to themselves, looking down, guilt coloring their eyes.

“Van is still…”

“… hurt, isn’t he?”

As Van approached the guild, a realization struck him.

‘Ahhh…’ Van sighed internally. ‘I called them out to say thank you for keeping it a secret… but I ended up rushing out of the alley too quickly. Goddamnit. What’s wrong with me?’ He thought in frustration, tapping his chestplate.

‘I thought I was all better now…!’

He didn’t notice the crack forming on his chestplate from the force of his tap as he neared the guild.

But he wouldn’t need to notice it… After all, it would fix itself with the help of his passive…

Right?