This Land (1/1)

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Vera's voice rose sharply as she said in disbelief,

"How could I possibly be scared? I was just making a reasonable assumption!"

Vane and Gorth also looked at Gregor in confusion, unable to understand why he had suddenly said that.

Gregor ignored her denial and simply stared at Vera in silence.

Vane, who had meant to crack a joke, sensed the strange atmosphere and wiped the expression off his face, looking at Vera in confusion.

Gorth remained silent, but he too realized something from Vera's overly hurried speech.

[You're scared, aren't you...]

"I told you, I'm not!"

There was a trace of exasperation in Vera's voice.

[What were you thinking when that bomb was right in your face?]

Gregor pressed calmly, instantly opening the floodgates of Vera's memories.

"..."

Vera's body trembled for an instant as the scene vividly resurfaced—

The frantically flashing red light right before her eyes, W's face twisted in a crazed grin, the stench of death so tangible...

She had thought she hid it well, covering up that moment of panic with repeated time stops and calm counterattacks.

[I know how that feels.]

[When that woman pierced through my body... I felt it too. That coldness of death.]

Vera's voice finally dropped, as though she were speaking to herself.

"Just a little scared..."

[Mm.]

"Really, just a little..."

She repeated it, as if trying to preserve the last shred of her dignity.

[I know.]

"..."

Vane put away his usual flippancy and walked over to Vera. Rarely, he did not run his mouth, merely giving her shoulder a gentle pat.

Gorth silently stepped closer, the shadow cast by his body enveloping Vera.

Gregor walked up to her. He hesitated as he looked at his own hand, but ultimately did nothing.

Naturally, this body of lava could only burn others...

[Wanting to go back is only natural.]

[So is being afraid.]

[Whether we find a way home or survive here, we'll always be together.]

[So don't be afraid...]

Gregor's body glowed faintly, giving off a warm light.

[I'll protect you all. You, Number Three, and Number Four.]

[Trust Number One... We'll go home. Not a single one of us will be left behind.]

"Boss."

[Hm?]

"That was so mushy..."

The group silently dispersed, and the mood lightened again.

Gregor spoke once more, his voice serious.

[We'll go to the dungeon... but not now.]

[You need to rest and properly recover your mental strength!]

"But I'm not sleepy..."

[Number Three, Number Four!]

"Got it!" x2

Gorth silently stepped forward. Though he said nothing, his towering frame carried an oppressive presence all its own.

Vane, meanwhile, sidled over with a grin and began pushing Vera toward the resting area.

"Come on, come on, Number Two! Be good! Sleep is a woman's best skincare product. Even if you can't tell with that skin you're wearing now, you can't let your foundation go bad!"

"Wait! Who's a woman?" Vera tried to resist, but both of them were stronger than her.

Under Ifrit's bewildered gaze, Vera was forcibly assigned to sleep with her.

The two simply stared wide-eyed at each other before groggily drifting into dreams.

Her thoughts returned to the present...

"Boom!"

A muffled bang exploded beside Vera's ear, making her jolt and reflexively—

[Time Stop Sound Effect]

A dim purple curtain instantly spread out. Vera whipped her head around and glared furiously toward the source of the sound—

At some point, W had snuck up behind her. She was still posing with her mouth shaped to imitate an explosion and her hands raised to scare her, a wicked grin on her face.

That psycho!

Vera cursed inwardly, skillfully summoning an imp to refresh the duration of her time stop.

Then, without the slightest courtesy, she positioned W in a face-first, about-to-eat-dirt posture.

After doing all that, Vera returned to her seat and released the time stop.

"[Sarkaz curse]!"

The sudden sound of someone falling, mixed with a curse, instantly drew every mercenary's attention.

Everyone looked in confusion at W, who had inexplicably fallen at Vera's feet, utterly unable to understand what had happened.

Vera looked down at W on the ground, her voice ice-cold.

"Having fun?"

W propped herself up and looked up at Vera. Rather than getting angry, she revealed a malicious smile.

"You've got some nerve~ Even that didn't scare you..."

Vera shot back without mercy.

"Your smile is ugly."

W's smile froze for a moment. A vein twitched on her forehead as she forced out a stiff smile.

"Still better than some people who can't even make an expression!"

Can't make an expression?

Vera nearly laughed in anger. She had intended to teach W another lesson, but then an idea suddenly struck her...

Every Sarkaz froze in place, watching Vera suddenly smile.

At the sight of that smile, the same word came to every mercenary's mind.

Gentle...

W, directly facing that smile, stood there blankly, her eyes unfocused for a long while—until Vera's expression suddenly changed.

"Can you smile, mercenary?"

"..."

Seeing that W did not reply, Vera gave a cold sneer, rose, and left.

Only then did W curse under her breath before pinching her own cheek in confusion.

"What was that just now..."

Not far away, Ines looked at Hedley beside her, whose face was covered in cold sweat, and shook her head helplessly.

"I told you, didn't I? That one's dangerous."

That danger did not come from her strength, but from W's unpredictable, utterly unconventional way of doing things.

Hedley wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, still shaken.

"I understand that very deeply now."

"Should we 'ask' her to leave?"

Ines offered an option. Hedley fell silent for a moment before finally shaking his head.

"Forget it..."

His gaze fell on Vera, who had already walked away.

"If that one hasn't said anything, we shouldn't make decisions on our own."

In front of this mysterious employer, they had very little initiative.

Ines let out a soft chuckle, tinged with mockery.

"What? Handing over your authority as leader already?"

Hedley did not answer directly. Instead, he looked toward the surrounding mercenaries, who were processing Riftbeast meat with rare relaxed smiles on their faces.

Such pure smiles were so rare on Sarkaz faces.

When was the last time he had seen that expression on his compatriots?

He could not remember...

Shaking his head and suppressing his turbulent thoughts, Hedley turned to Ines.

"Did you see something?"

Ines crossed her arms, her gaze once again falling on Vera's departing figure—especially the shadow beneath her feet, which still puzzled her.

She was silent for several seconds before speaking in an incredulous tone.

"Mm... I did."

"Hard to imagine that on this land that devours people, there could still be... someone so 'clean.'"

"Clean?"

Hedley frowned. The word seemed completely out of place when used for someone so strong.

"Yes... She's practically like a child who knows nothing of the world."

Hedley's brow furrowed even deeper.

"Are you sure you didn't see wrong?"

"Perhaps... The information my shadow gave me was vague, but that feeling can't be fake."

Ines did not state it as certainty as she turned toward the mercenaries who had already started setting up a pot and lighting a fire.

"If we don't get over there to keep an eye on them, those idiots will waste these rare ingredients."

As she walked, she murmured in a voice only Hedley could hear. Yet the implication of her words shook him to the core.

"After all, in Kazdel, even real children... aren't as innocent as she is."

Hedley followed after her and pressed on.

"You mean..."

Without slowing her pace, Ines analyzed calmly.

"She may have... grown up somewhere that had never experienced war, a place where people could even trust each other so easily."

Hedley sank into thought. Based on that description...

"Could she be from one of those Sarkaz tribes that left Kazdel long ago and settled in other nations? Have they now specially sent a powerful member of their tribe back to support Her Highness?"

"Then they're truly foolish."

Ines judged bluntly. She paused, glancing toward W, who had once again failed to give up and was secretly trying to approach Vera.

"Throwing an unguarded little white lamb into a pack of wolves crazed with hunger—aren't they afraid she'll be eaten clean?"

"A little white lamb..."

Hedley mulled over that absurd metaphor before ultimately shaking his head with a complicated expression.

Who was the sheep, and who was the wolf? It was still too early to say.

Meanwhile, in Babel Tower's core area.

A grim-faced Feline strode through the metal corridor.

Every operator she encountered quickly averted their eyes the moment they met her gaze, or lowered their voices to offer a greeting.

Though the Feline's face remained cold throughout, she responded to every greeting.

She arrived before a heavy door and raised her hand to knock lightly. A gentle female voice soon came from within.

"Come in."

Kal'tsit pushed open the door and entered. Warm light spilled down, illuminating a pink-haired Sarkaz woman dressed in plain white.

"Kal'tsit,"

Theresa raised her eyes, a helpless smile in them.

"I believe I've told you many times: there's no need to knock before coming in. Our relationship has not grown so distant that we need to be this rigid about etiquette."

Kal'tsit walked to the desk, her expression unchanged and her tone steady as she replied,

"The scrutiny and prejudice on this land run too deep. Even the most ordinary interaction between close friends may be interpreted in countless ways by those with ulterior motives, becoming a pretext for attack."

"Maintaining basic social etiquette is a necessary measure to protect the fragile ties between us... and the many fragile connections within Babel Tower."

"...Right now, it's just the two of us,"

Theresa let out a soft sigh, cutting off Kal'tsit's lengthy discourse.

"There's no need to beat around the bush, and besides..." She blinked, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"Though I don't want to put it this way, Kal'tsit, what you truly want to say is sometimes far too obscure."

"I assume you wouldn't want me to use the Black Crown's power to directly read those real thoughts of yours, would you?"

Kal'tsit fell silent for a moment, ultimately giving up on continuing their debate over etiquette.

"Theresa, why did you ask me here?"

Theresa lifted the teacup from the table, gently blew on it, and smiled.

"Hmm~ Can't I simply ask you over for tea and conversation? You're always wound up too tightly, Kal'tsit."

Kal'tsit said nothing, merely gazing wordlessly at Theresa.

Theresa met her eyes for several seconds before finally conceding, raising her hands in surrender.

"All right, all right. There are indeed some matters... I need to discuss with you. Or rather, I need to hear your judgment."

She set down her teacup, and the smile on her face faded slightly.

"A message came from Scar Eye—the person in charge of Scar Market. Theresis wants to meet with us."

At that, Kal'tsit slightly raised her eyes, precisely catching the subtle distinction in Theresa's words.

"Does he want to see 'you,' or does he want to see 'us'?"

Theresa sighed softly, her tone softening with a trace of plea.

"All right, me. But I just... simply want someone to go with me."

"I don't think you'll refuse, will you?"

"Theresis won't want to see me." Kal'tsit's answer was calm and direct.

Her past entanglements with the Sarkaz had long ensured that they could never sit calmly across from one another at the same negotiating table.

"Mm... even so," Theresa tried to persuade her from another angle.

"Kal'tsit, aren't you at all curious what Theresis is seeking me out for this time?"

"When you return, I'll naturally know." Kal'tsit's tone did not waver in the slightest.

Theresa gazed at Kal'tsit and asked softly.

"What if I insist that you come with me?"

Kal'tsit fell silent. Looking at the expectation in her dear friend's eyes, she spoke with a nearly imperceptible weariness in her voice.

"Theresa, don't try anymore."

Her gaze turned toward the window, toward the ravaged land beyond.

"To the Sarkaz, I am an unequivocal enemy. I have never denied this, and I agree with their view."

"If they could understand your true intentions, understand the future you seek..." Theresa tried to argue.

"No, Theresa." Kal'tsit cut her off, turning back with a sharp look in her eyes.

"This land..."

Halfway through her words, she met Theresa's solemn gaze and changed to relatively gentler phrasing.

"...most people care only about the survival and hatred before them. A distant future, one that is too idealistic, lies beyond the scope of their consideration."

"That's all the more reason we need to explain it clearly and communicate with them!"

Seeing Theresa's resolute gaze, Kal'tsit knew she would once again be unable to persuade her.

Hope always burned in this Highness's heart. Even before the deepest divides, she was willing to try to communicate.

It was an incomparably precious quality, yet it often left Kal'tsit feeling powerless.

"All right... I'll go."

Before Theresa could show her delight, Kal'tsit immediately added,

"But I must disguise myself. That is my bottom line."

The delight on Theresa's face receded slightly, becoming understanding tinged with faint regret.

"All right... I agree."

Though she regretted that Kal'tsit could not accompany her with her true face and identity,

At least she would not have to face that increasingly inscrutable brother alone.

Theresa followed Kal'tsit's gaze out the window. In the clearing outside, a black-cloaked figure was waving toward them alongside a Cautus girl.

Theresa smiled and waved back, drawing cheers from the Sarkaz who had been watching her.

After those Sarkaz were dragged away by hands from the shadows, Theresa could not help but begin reminiscing.

Come to think of it, she had not been to Scar Market in a long time.

What had it become like now...?