Chapter 38 - Shared Loss (Patreon)

My hair was tied into a ponytail that drifted down my back and touched the middle of my spine. Strands I failed to collect separated around my temples. The ones that bothered my right eye earned the attention of my fingertips as I tucked them behind my ear. I didn’t bother with the ones that fell on my left eye. They didn’t hinder my sight, as I didn’t have sight in that eye to hinder. 

Lex had an eyepatch on hand, for some reason, and gave it to me shortly after I lost my eye. It earned some bitching from me, but I was grateful. It made me look less like a freak and was a small lifeboat in a hurricane of shit. 

I was barefoot in a pair of baggy long pants with a tight tank top that showed my midriff, sitting in the living room of my home. Ingredients pulled from my codex were strewn across the floor. All of them had chunks missing or were partially used. Whatever I’d emptied, I threw into a pile in the corner of the room.

I sat at my alchemy station. A mana crystal in my mortar was now a fine powder I’d steadily mashed after minutes of concentrated work. Normally, they didn’t break, but the special pestal I used also had a mana crystal in it, allowing me to infuse the tool with mana. It was the only good way to break down mana crystals consistently. 

The remains were that of a Pristine crystal I’d supercharged with my mana—one of the highest-quality ones in my possession. Recent attempts to modify my limb reattachment potion for regeneration had failed. The only ingredient I hadn’t tried modifying was the crystal in the concoction. 

I poured in a small portion into my cauldron, which was already filled and brewing with materials. There were local herbs stewing inside that had natural regenerative qualities when rubbed on wounds. Monster blood from creatures with similar properties gave the pot a slight red tint. There were also hairs, roots, and particular organs stewing in the mix. The common connection was that all the parts and herbs were ingredients used to increase the body’s natural healing abilities. 

The concoction coursed white with my mana as I dropped the ground mana crystal inside. It pulsed singularly like it had a heartbeat for a moment. Then, the color shifted. The pale red color frothed around the edges, thickened, and pulsed into a dark red color like clotted blood. 

I waited for twenty minutes. My eyes never left the cauldron—not for a second. 

As soon as I hit my designated time, I lifted the cauldron and hooked it well above the heat so the flames wouldn’t touch it. The boiling sifted to a simmer. I let it rest for a little while longer, then moved it over to a distiller. I poured the contents inside, then transferred them to an already-prepared phial sitting nearby.

“You gonna work?” I muttered. “You better work.”

Water manifested in my right hand. It wrapped around my fingers and palm. I placed it a nail’s length away from the phial. Through my will alone, the water wrapped and circulated around the glass. I felt the warmth sink away from it and into the water. When the water got hot, I stopped the process, let the water disappear, and then began again.

Being able to change the temperature of water would be great. I thought as I had many times before. Wish I could make ice. But that’s not possible. 

For some reason, I found myself looking at the bands on my fingers. I’d unlocked the remaining secondary bands earlier that morning. Lex was right, it was easy once I got the first one. Even fire wasn’t that bad. It probably helped that I was looking for something to distract myself.

My mind drifted to a thought I’d had many times before. Even more so when I thought about how freeing and flexible Runes and Arcworks were compared to personal mana use.

“Still kind of looks like brands,” I muttered. My gaze drifted to the large ones on my wrists. “Or restraints.”

Unfortunately, I was at a low point I hadn’t felt in many months due to the loss of my eye. Honestly, I was looking for anything to find fault in—even the world itself and its natural laws. 

But those thoughts didn’t hold me for long. As soon as I cooled the phial, I moved on.

“There we go.” I uncorked the top and took a swig. Then I lifted my eye patch and dashed a portion of it into the empty socket.

It stung like a bitch. I ended up cursing and smacking the floor hard enough to crack it, but I kept my focus. It needed to heal. It had to heal. I wanted it to heal.

But my vision still felt off, even as the burning subsided. There was no growth, no relief. 

My eye was still gone.

Letting my mind go blank, I stored the potion in my codex. Regardless of its failure, it was an expensive potion to make and had high healing properties. Already, I felt better, generally, even though the root purpose of the concoction didn’t succeed.

Even so, I walked to the back of my house. There was a giant hole there, blasted open with a bout of intense wind mana hours earlier. I stepped through to my backyard. Lines of destroyed trees, massive holes, and a burnt smell stung the air. 

I calmly took a breath, smiled, and lifted my hand. Wind swirled around my arms like little tornadoes.

Then, my teeth gritted. I darted my right arm forward. A blast of wind surged from it and plummeted into the forest. It rocketed through the vast area of open space I’d made during my other failures before finally landing on a certain tree.

The wind punched through it, severing it in half, and then traveled behind it. My wind didn’t break apart until nine trees had fallen down. 

I did that five more times until I felt better. 

Sitting on the dirt, I groaned and looked up. I covered my lost eye again. The gentle fabric caressed my face, giving me a sharp reminder of my failure.

“Okay.” I was silent for a while after that world. “Try again.”

“Hmm, Lex was right. You look good with an eyepatch,” said Gai, appearing out of my newly acquired blind spot.

I instinctively slapped at him, but he dodged me with careful ease. 

“Don’t do that!” I hissed, my face turning red with embarrassment and anger. “Asshole!”

“Still angry, huh?” Gai deadpanned. His gaze drifted to the destroyed forest before us. “And after you did so much…passionate landscaping.”

“What do you want?”

“Nothing.” Gai plopped down beside me on my right side. “Just checking in on yah.”

“If it’s because you feel guilty or something, you can shove it,” I muttered, uninterested. “I’m lucky to be alive.”

“Oh, we all are. That’s a testament to how strong Dread Tier monsters are.” Gai leaned back. “Makes you wonder why they haven’t just killed us all.”

“Because there are people who can kill them out there in the world.”

“Very few. And that’s just a Dread Tier. Wasn’t even an Abyssal or Catclymic.” Gai chuckled. “You can see why they’ve got that name now.”

“Sadly.” I furiously scratched my head, then turned to Gai. “Seriously, what do you want?”

“Seriously, I’m just checking in on you.”

“Why bother? It’s not like we’re friends.”

“Are we not?”

“Not when I don’t really know anything about you.”

“Ouch. But fair.”

Again, I scratched my head. It was a habit I’d developed since I began my furious potion crafting. The more agitated I got, the harder I scratched. And the more hair fell out. It wasn’t enough to cause a bald spot, but I was starting to see more strands than usual around my house. 

“What do you want to know about me?” wondered Gai out loud. “I’ll tell you.”

“Why are you here?” I asked without hesitation. “Give me the real reason. You and Lex even risked your lives on such a stupid mission. You’re feeding us valuable information without cost. Give me a reason. Nothing you say or do makes any sense to me.”

Gai pursed his lips and looked forward. He bobbed his head from side to side, his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to be seriously thinking about my question. After a while, he spoke, “We don’t really know what we’re supposed to do next.”

My brow crinkled together. “What does that mean?”

“Lex and I. We’re kind of, I dunno, at a standstill. We don’t know what to do,” he muttered.

“But…isn’t Tycho…”

“Doesn’t exist.” Gai waved his hand in front of his face. “Complete myth. Everyone in the merc group we worked with kept using the moniker whenever they did something significant, and it built a faceless legend that was very, very useful for getting shit done.”

Confusion wracked my brain. “What…then why…what?”

“We were just a group of people who wanted to get rid of the Dark Market. Nothing more. Nothing less,” said Gai. His face was unusually serious. “Revenge is a powerful motivator.” His eyes filled with a deep emptiness. “But when you live your whole life with a single-minded goal, and you achieve it, what’s next? What are you supposed to do with the rest of your life?”

I stared at Gai. My eye naturally shifted to his fifth band on his finger. “Don’t you believe in chaos?”

Gai didn’t say anything for a moment. It was like he was struggling to find the world. “I don’t think this thing goes away even if you completely change as a person after getting it. Not that I’m complaining,” he answered, kind of.

My gaze held on his thumb’s band for a moment. My earlier thoughts rushed back into my mind. “You ever feel like something’s wrong with how mana works?”

To my surprise, Gai nodded. “All the time. Seems so restrictive, especially when you compare it to alchemy, arcworks, and runes. Especially runes.” He patted his chest. “My area of expertise, by the way.” He made his codex appear and flipped to a page. “Here, let me show you something.” He tore out a sheet with intricate symbols on it. “You’re familiar with the Mark of Enslavement, yeah?”

“You know that.”

“Just needed a good transition,” he mocked. “Anyway, a rune is charged by mana crystal and symbols. It can create something if you give an order and constraints to it, logically.” He traced the paper and ran energy through it. “When I do this–” Lightning pulsed from the paper and danced around Gai’s hand. He aimed it at one of the remaining trees and fired. It shot off at a speed I couldn’t comprehend, hit it, split it in half, and charred the bark black. Instantly, the sound of thunder rang through the air. “–I can create something I never could with mana alone.”

My mouth was agape. I knew that runes were inherently different magic, but I didn’t know they could literally create elements a living body couldn’t generate.

“Why?! How does that work?!” I asked Gai. 

He shrugged. “Beats me. Certain patterns of runes in certain combinations create spells.” He pulled out another sheet. “Here’s a second copy. I keep a bunch in here in case I need a quick, random attack. Wouldn’t have been very helpful against the Faragore, but I promise that spell would kill most people.”

I snatched the codex sheet from Gai and greedily stared at it. 

The symbol started as a complete circle that connected from end to end without delay. Inside was another circle that consisted of a sentence describing lighting in great detail until it looked, with the last word touching the first. In the very middle, a triangle connected the inner circle at three points. Inside the triangle, there was a list of conditions, including range, mana amount needed to fulfill the request, radius, and more. Everything seemed finally tailored to describing a lightning strike in a much detail as possible in a constrained, organized, visual contract.

“This is…surprisingly simple,” I muttered.

“But expensive to make,” said Gai. “Sure, you can kind of do whatever you want with mana, but the cost and knowledge are high. Some spells won’t work if you don’t do the right kind of crystal for the ink, others won’t activate if you don’t have the mana to handle them, and if you don’t have the exact logic down for a rune, nothing will happen.” He paused. “But it’s a weird, strange anomaly in this world. And alchemy is, too, if you think about it. How can your potion reattach limbs? Why can’t we just do that normally with our own internal powers? Why do we need mana crystals? Don’t even get me started on Arcworks and Aberrants.” He flicked his hand out into the sky. “Doubt we’re the first people to have these concerns.”

Yeah, I bet. The stronger you get, the more contradictions pop up, I assume. At least, that’s how it is for me.

“Nothing we can worry about.” Gai shrugged. “Mana, marks, and spells have existed as they have for years. If they were any deeper than what they are on the surface, we’d know. Probably. Some things just are what they are.”

“Gross. No. I hate that logic.”

Gai waited for a moment, then sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

Bydon crossed into view, seemingly out of nowhere. Gai wasn’t startled, and since he wasn’t, I held my reaction in the best I could. I blinked a little faster than normal, but it was my only giveaway. 

“You should talk to Jessie about this next time you get a chance,” said Bydon. His wolf tail swished behind him, and long black hair cast adrift with the light wind of the day. His violet eyes stared at us, seemingly more colorful in contrast to his tanned skin. “It’s something she’s wondered about, too.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Internalized fire mana always bothered her,” said Bydon. He crouched before us, his arms lying casually against his crouched knees. “Seems like an outlier to the other three elements. It’s part of the reason she prefers spells over internal arts. Feels more complete to her.”

“She has said that to me a few times,” I remembered. 

“And the bands.” Bydon flashed his fingers. “They give the illusion of power while being restrictive.” His tail swished behind him. “But not why I’m here.” He stood up and gestured for me to follow him into the field of destruction I’d made. “Come. It’s time to learn the Chaos style.”

“Right now?”

“Unless you have something better to do.”

“Kind of.”

Gai lightly slapped me on the back of the head. “Take a break and do something else. You need it.”

I puffed out my cheeks, annoyed, and stared at him.

Gai raised his hands defensively. “You need it.” He repeated. He stood, turned around, and headed away while waving behind him. “I’ll let everyone know you’re okay!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Groaning, I stood up and walked toward Bydon.

Eventually, we were both standing in the middle of the clearing I’d made. The smell of wood and dirt lingered in the air. Looking around really made it sink in how many pissy fits I’d had through my alchemy process. 

It’s only been two days. I need to calm down.

But I couldn’t. The archdevils would arrive today or tomorrow. I was still recovering from my fight with Faragore, and I had one eye. I doubted I could resist an experienced archdevil with high mana, even less if there were a whole boat of them.

But I would regardless. It would all depend on them.

And that made me nervous. So nervous, I’d barely slept more than a few hours since returning.

Plus, I wasn’t the only one who needed that regeneration potion, if it was even possible to make. 

“Let’s get started,” said Bydon, breaking me out of my thoughts. “This won’t take long.”

“You think?” I said. “Don’t remember me with the Warring style, do yah?”

“I remember you learning the Heavenly style in less than a day. You’ll be fine.”

“But you don’t remember me failing constantly with the Warring style?”

“You’re a master of it at twenty,” remarked Bydon with a light scoff. “You’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

I had reservations. Past failures always lingered in my mind, regardless of any previous successes. But that was normal. Lingering on the minor instances of bad always shafted the endless good. I was likely more aware of that than most people with what’s happened to me. Didn’t make it easier to work through, though. 

It was even worse with my lost eye. My confidence was shaken. I couldn’t deny that. The constant potion failures didn’t help with that. 

“It’s okay to fail. That’s how you learn,” said Bydon, as if reading my mind.

“I knoooow,” I said, groaning. “But still. Annoyed.”

“Then focus solely on this. Think of nothing else.” Bydon’s expression softened into neutrality. “Internalize earth mana.”

“Okay.”

I stepped back and closed my eyes. In my experience, that made it easier to focus on new feelings in my body. Breathing out slowly, I circulated mana inside my body, then shifted it to earth. The smell of dirt flooded my nostrils. My body started feeling very earthy. It was like I was lying in a forest right after a storm, where the ground was fertile with activity. 

“Do what seems natural with the mana,” said Bydon gently. “I’ll correct you after.”

“I mean, I’ve tried before. Be stupid not to. But it never works,” I said.

“Then show me.”

Given that the Chaos style was a power and defense style, my view of it was a sturdy explosiveness. I’ve seen a few people use the style, and none of them were as skilled as Bydon, so my knowledge was lacking. Most people used the Warring style. Then the Heavenly style swung in popularity. Chaos style was the odd one out most people didn’t go for. Speed was king, it seemed to me, and I understood the inclination. 

A quick fight was better than a drawn-out one. Less skilled people preferred the single-strike motto of Warring-style users. Heavenly style had a similar momentum to it due to its focus on countering and single strikes, but it was also suited for long combat. The Chaos style was all about long combat and taking hits. 

Slowly, push it out of my body like a wave. I thought. Picture it like a wave of energy coming off my body, primed to block anything.

“Ah, I see,” said Bydon, breaking me from my concentration. “You’ve skipped ahead some steps. Very interesting.”

I deactivated my mana. “Meaning?”

“You’re visualizing it coming out as a sort of blanket or wall?”

“More like a wave.”

“Close. That’s a component of later levels, but not the basis of the style.”

“Oh? Have I skipped a step?”

“In a way,” admitted Bydon. “I’ve never seen that before.”

“Is that going to be a problem?” I asked.

“No. Not so long as you can grasp the beginning concept.” He clasped his hands together. “Your kind is thinking like you do with external earth mana, I’m assuming. Building a wall and blocking.”

“Yes.”

“It’s more like armor.” Bydon made a motion around his body like he was wrapping himself in something. His tail seemed to follow the motion of his finger briefly. “Or overlapping yourself with layers of cloth.”

My eyebrows crinkled. “Okay. So…Warring style is a contained explosion of energy, Heavenly style is more like a controlled burst, and the Chaos style is like a…circulating power around the body?”

“If that helps you conceptualize it, then try it,” said Bydone without assenting to the tactic fully.

Nodding, I changed the way the energy flowed in my body. I thought about wrapping it around myself. It was strange, and I was certain I was wro—

“Nope.” Bydon interrupted me. “Try again.”

That’s about right.

•

“That’s…you did it,” muttered Bydon, surprised. “In an hour.”

“One frustrated hour,” I grunted.

“It takes weeks to months for someone to manifest their coat for the first time,” muttered Bydon, still surprised. “I expected you to take a day or two at most. Not hours.”

“What can I say? I’m a genius,” I said. Though, admittedly, a part of me was thinking my past definitely had something to do with my rapid rate of growth and ease of learning. But it wasn’t like I could come out and say that.

“You are,” he said without joking. “I don’t know if anyone in the world can do what you’ve done.”

I couldn’t help it. A small smile slipped to my lips. I put my hands behind my back and shuffled my shoulders from side to side while looking at the ground. “Y-You don’t say? G-Good to know!”

I could feel Bydon staring at me like a proud father, but I ignored him. I probably would have blushed and started babbling. No one needed that.

“So…what’s next? What do I do with this?” I asked.

“You fight normally, using the aura as a constant suit of armor,” said Bydon, reverting to technical teacher mode. “Keep your mana moving at a consistent rate like you are. The more you put in, the stronger your coat is, and the more attacks you can tank.” He made his codex apppear and pulled out his longsword, tossing his codex behind him, allowing it to disappear in white, red, blue, and yellow particles. “Want to see it in action?”

“You gonna hit me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” I took in a deep breath and increased the mana in me. “Go for it.”

“I know a little Warring style, but I’m barely in Expert,” said Bydon. “Brace. It shouldn’t do anything.”

In a blink, Bydon was in front of me, swinging his sword. I instinctively flinched and lifted my arms to protect my body.

I felt the sword sink into my body—no, I imagined it.

My mana was cushioning the blow. I felt the pressure of the blade touch my power and stop against the thin white aura around my body. It was touching me and not. I was very conscious of the blade hitting the mana, and my body was alerting me to the sensation and where it was, but it didn’t hurt my body.

Bydon pulled back his blade and leaned it over my shoulder. “Questions?”

I pursed my lips in thought. “What does Master look like as a Chaos style user? It seems more limited than the other styles. Less diverse.”

“It can feel like that for the first three phases,” admitted Bydon. “A Chaos Beginner could likely contest against some of the best fighters in the world just using mana. Experts can use their mana to flash out, so to speak. What you were doing before, sending the mana out as a wave, is the first step in that.” He moved to a nearby tree and waved his sword. “Observe.” A violet aura appeared around his body. “Beginner.”

Bydon swung his sword. It was a powerful swing. His blade sank into the tree he aimed at. It could have cleaved a human easily, but the tree only suffered a four-inch wound.

“Expert,” he said.

Bydon repeated the motion again. This time, right before his sword made contact, the aura wrapped neatly around his body pulsed. His sword easily passed through the tree and reached the other side, cutting it cleanly in half. The tree didn’t move at first, almost like it didn’t know it had been cut. Then, very slowly, it tilted to the side and hit the ground with a loud thump.

“You could probably already do that, given your first attempts,” admitted Bydon. “Wrap the Beginner aura, then time the pulse with your attacks. It’ll give you a burst of strength.”

“Okay.” I opened my codex and found a tree of my own. The feeling of earth swirled around my body. I shifted my stance, prepped my sword, and swung.

As I did, I made my mana pulse, as I had done many, many times before when attempting to figure out the Chaos style.

My entire body felt light. The sword in my hands moved as easily as a leaf falling from a tree on a windy day. I didn’t even feel it sink through the entire thing and chop it in half.

“Whoa,” I muttered as it fell to the ground.

“Whoa indeed,” said Bydon. He now stood beside me, impressed. “That wasn’t as surprising as learning the first stage in an hour. It seemed like you would, given your prior advancements.”

My eyes sparkled as I turned to Bydon. “What’s the next step?!” I was really getting into it, and moving so far in the style was giving me a massive ego boost that I desperately needed. “That’s the storage and counter, right?!”

Bydon took a nervous step back. “Right…”

“How does that work?!” I could almost feel my eyes sparkling. My hands were in front of my face, balled into fists. If I had a tail like Bydon, it’d be wagging, I had no doubt. As it was, I felt like a child with a new toy—happy.

“You…reverse the pulse,” said Bydon slowly. “When you get hit, your aura pulses inward. Then you wrap it around the attack to store in your aura. I-It’ll feel like—”

“Let’s do it.” I activated my aura and gestured for him to hit me. “Let’s go!”

“I don’t know if—”

“Do it!”

Bydon sighed. “Okay. It’ll be a learning opportunity regardless.”

Just like before, Bydon ran at me with a weak attack powered by his Warring style.

Suck in the pulse. I told myself. Easy.

Bydon swung his sword at me with the flat.

I pulsed my mana, and—

Bydon hit me hard in the ribs.

The air was immediately knocked out of me. I fell to the ground holding my guts. “What…the…shit…?”

“Timing,” explained Bydon. He crouched over me with a sympathetic grin. “It’s a risky move. Let it hit your aura. When the attack is at its maximum, reverse the pulse. You’ll feel pressure in your mana. You’ll want to move that pressure throughout your mana coat. You’ll feel it grow with a power that’s not your own, when successful.” He paused. “Wanna try again?”

“Y-Yeah,” I grunted, standing up. “Let’s go.”

-----

•

-----

We trained for another hour, and I didn’t manage it once.

“Jeez, what’s the trick?” I complained, sitting on the ground. I gestured rudely at Bydon. “More tips, please.”

“You’ve hit a very necessary wall in your training,” Bydon said instead. “It’ll take consistently, practice, and risk from here on out.”

“Boooo!”

He placed a hand on his heart. “I’m just happy you failed today. I’d have shattered everything I knew.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I waved him away like I was swatting a bug. My gaze shifted left toward my house. “Guess I should get back to potions.”

“If you’d like.” Bydon paused for a moment. “Have you seen Tart since you got back?”

I frowned. “I’ll see her when I can fix us.”

“Go see her now,” suggested Bydon.

“But—”

“One more thing, while your vision is altered,” he interrupted. “Keep your mana coat on.”

“How so?”

“Because it’ll block attacks you can’t see anymore,” said Bydon. He plunged his sword into his codex and stood over me. “Might even save your life.”

I looked up at him blandly. “Very timely, I learned this.”

“One might call it fate.” He crouched down. “You will get through this, regardless of what happens.”

“Cute.” I puffed out my cheeks. “What did Tart say when you told her that?”

“Go eat a dick.”

“Ha!”

-----

•

-----

I carefully walked through town. Even with my eye gone, I didn’t neglect my daily duties.

People eyed me warily. There was more respect for me than ever before. Word of my battle with Faragore had passed through town, and my most eye was ratification of my conflict. People literally bowed to me in the streets. At the same time, no one talked to me anymore. It was like I’d ascended beyond just being an archdevil. Or I’d affirmed in them that I was some kind of being worthy of praise. I didn’t know, but I didn’t like it. It was the exact opposite of how I’d been treated my entire life, and it unnerved me.

On the bright side, no one was going into the Forest of Beginners anymore. If an archdevil with white eyes barely returned, with her elite team, from a few days’ tour inside, what hope did a group of people with such advantages have?

Lex said that would naturally revert the forest back to some normalcy, and she set up some guidelines with Tannin and Bruno to prevent such a thing from happening again. A high-miasma zone, like the Forest of Beginners, was a consistent source of revenue that needed to be handled carefully. Tannin and Bruno never had to deal with the sort of Adventurer and Mercenary influx they currently had. None of us did. We brushed off the mistakes and moved on, having learned important lessons. Costly ones.

Christopher spent his time since the return mobilizing the remaining officials and guards in the town to prepare for Edwin Syn. Everyone was extremely careful around me since losing my eye, to annoying levels, and I may have snapped from all the nagging on the way back. Everyone was giving me a wide berth, as I desired. Except Gai. He was being abnormally clingy and optimistic.

“I can’t get her to leave the docks,” Barcus’s voice rang through the crowded town.

“Yeah, she keeps telling me she wants to stay useful by looking out for the archdevil’s ship,” Nigel’s voice followed. “I don’t know. It’s probably best to let her do what she wants, given what’s happened.”

“I…don’t disagree…shit. Never thought I’d have to go up against a thing like that in this lifetime.”

“I can’t fathom ever killing a Dread Tier if Yen barely could,” agreed Nigel. “What—“

I made eye contact with the two of them through the crowd.

Barcus waved his hand and smiled. “Hi Yen!”

“Hello!” I waved to Barcus, and Barcus only, before turning around and fast walking away.

“Um?” Barcus’s voice rang after me. “Yen?”

“H-Hey! Let’s go…somewhere else!” suggested Nigel. His voice was filled with nervousness.

Even from a distance away, I could feel the tension between us.

We’d barely spoken since he woke up. As soon as I confirmed he was okay, I left him alone. He did the same. It felt like I had a hook in my heart prying me apart, but it was for the best. Being around him turned me into a loser—turned both of us into ones. It was just better we were apart.

They should never have come here. I found myself thinking. Tart lost her arm, and Nigel’s basically indoctrinated into loving me. I’m not better. I took in a breath and let it out slowly, stopping in the middle of the street. Small groups of Adventurers partered around me wordlessly as I took up a massive chunk of space right in the middle of town. No, I learned the Chaos style, finally. And I got to confirm they’re alive and okay. I rubbed my eyes, gritted my teeth, and screamed, “Fuuuuck!”

The people around me flinched. I would have, too, in their shoes. But they didn’t acknowledge my outburst. They just sped by me faster, and the space around me got larger.

“Okay, new plan.” I crouched in the middle of the street and started talking to myself. “If the archdevils look weak, I’ll beat them up and compel them to give me all the answers I want about our kind. I’m one, and I have white eyes, and I suck. They probably suck, too. Rumors are probably bullshit. Yeah! Good!” I stood up and pumped my fist. “Shitty plan acquired.”

Bydon’s words rang through my head.

I pursed my lips. “Yeah…I’ll go check on her…”

-----

•

-----

Moments later, I was at the town docks.

They were new construction about a year or two after Christopher settled into town with me. With the sudden growth from Christopher and me residing in Sandy Branch, more goods were moving into town, and more businesses were being established. Carts could only move so much in, so Christopher and some locals began investing in a genuine dock outside of town.

Where a beach once sat, now a wooden pier with three good-sized docks was in view. It was empty, of course. No one wanted to trade with a town singled out by the archdevils of Paradise, which was entirely reasonable, given the circumstances. Usually, small and medium-sized crafts came in and out of town throughout the week, bringing workers and goods with them.

The only boat we’d be seeing any time soon would signal the end of my peaceful days in Sandy Branch. That I knew for sure.

In the middle dock at the very end, Tart sat in the water. Her blonde hair looked like gold in the sunlight. She was stunning, and with her ears and figure, she looked like a water goddess caught in the reflection of the ocean.

But my eyes drifted to the arm she’d lost, and guilt bubbled in my stomach.

Maybe I should go. It’s clear she wants to be alone. I thought, allowing cowardice to run my decisions. But I gritted my teeth, stepped forward, and slowly sat down beside her on the dock.

We didn’t acknowledge each other for a while.

“If you say sorry, I’ll hit you,” Tart said suddenly. “I’m sick of hearing it.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Tart flicked my forehead with her good hand.

“Ouch!”

“You didn’t listen.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You did it again!”

“And you keep flicking in my blind spot!”

“How else will I hit you?”

We both stared at each other for a moment. Then we cracked into small smiles and started to giggle. That giggle turned into laughter. Before we knew it, we were leaning into each other, losing our minds.

The joke wasn’t funny, not in the slightest, but it didn’t matter.

I fell backward on the dock holding my stomach, and Tart pitched forward like she was going to fall into the water.

But eventually our laughter subsided. The final echoes swam across the water as we grew quiet and stared into the rippling blue ocean, casting small waves along its surface.

“I needed that,” I admitted, catching my breath.

“I didn’t think I’d ever laugh again,” said Tart. She looked at me and smiled. “Thanks!”

“Ditto.” My face softened, and I looked away. “Haven’t figured out how to regrown limbs yet. I’m trying. I’ll figure it out. Promise.”

“Please do.” Tart paused. “If anyone can do it, that’d be you.” Still, she sighed and looked up at the sky. “Guess I’ll be retiring until that happens.”

“You could always, I dunno—”

“An armless forest devil,” Tart cut me off with a wry chunk of laughter. It sounded almost like a bark. “I’m gonna have to guilt Barcus’s family into hiring me as a maid or something.” She paused. “I wonder if his dad needs a mistress…”

“Why would they need a maid?”

“Oh, because they’re very rich. Did you not know that?”

I shook my head.

“Their grandfather founded the largest Adventuring clan based out of Port Prosper. They basically run the Guild chapter there. Their father took it over when he got ill.”

“And…Barcus formed the Trailblazers because?”

“He didn’t want his life handed to him,” said Tart with an air of dreaminess. “I remember his first pitch. Bydon and I had gone on contracts with his father’s clan, trying to get in, but he and Jessie convinced us to quit all that and follow him. He’s very manipulative when he needs to be. Not that I minded.” She splashed her feet in the water. With her hand, she traced her knee cap ever so slightly. “It’s been fun.”

“Past tense doesn’t inspire confidence,” I grumbled, nudging her slightly. “And its not like they’re going to kick you out of the group.”

“They should.”

“But they won’t.”

“…I know.”

We stared into the water for a moment. Then Tart looked at me quickly, enough to startle me.

“Can’t you run away?” she asked.

I blinked. “From…the archdevils?”

She nodded.

I looked her dead in the face and, without hesitation, said, “What good would that do?”

Tart reached for an answer, but something out of my peripheral distracted me.

I turned my head like a bird that had spotted prey in an open field. A massive ship, like none I’d ever seen before, crested into view. It was double the size of the largest building in Sandy Branch, with intricate trim, dark colors, and massive white sails bending the wind to its will.

Tart followed my gaze. I saw her mouth drop. “Oh.”

“Go into town. Warn everyone,” I told her while I stood up. “Please.”

Without hesitation, Tart bolted forth to follow my orders..

I stared at the ship as it glided into the bay and stopped.

I could feel eyes on me, all coming from it.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” I whispered to myself. I stood tall and confident with my hands behind my back. “Let the fun begin.”