Chapter 472: Expectations (1/2)

Ilea enjoyed the company of the Langstons for the remainder of the evening.

Dale joined her on a short walk through the city afterwards.

“You have a lovely family, Dale,” Ilea said after a minute of comfortable silence.

“Thank you. They definitely liked you,” he said. “Maybe I should have introduced you earlier.”

“Might have been awkward,” Ilea said. “Now we at least had some things to talk about.”

“How you saved the whole city?” Dale mused and laughed.

“For example.”

“Ilea, you have dozens of stories worth talking about,” Dale said and nodded to a guard patrol walking past.

The city was on high alert, most of the guards and hunters still working.

A few of them glanced at Ilea but the others either didn’t care or didn’t make the connection.

“Not quite as relatable,” she said.

“I suppose. I hope you didn’t leave too much of an impression on the two,” he said. “I’d prefer if they had a peaceful life.”

“I wouldn’t call my life the opposite. It’s dangerous, yes, but I enjoy it.”

“Safe might be the better word,” the man said with a smile.

Ilea nodded. “Hmm. It can feel suffocating too and boring. To some.”

Dale stopped and looked up. The sky was dark, clouds moving far above. It would rain soon.

“I won’t stop them if that is truly what they want. It just worries me. With everything out there. They’re just kids,” he said.

Ilea smiled. “Now you know how I feel about you.”

The captain snorted. “Just because I’m not at level three hundred.”

“Would help,” she said.

Dale showed her the back of his hand. “I’ve got this. Summons a powerful beast. I got it from a traveling witch.”

Ilea nodded. “Hmm, that sounds suspicious. Are you sure it’s not a curse?”

“I’m not sure. But I have a good feeling about this one,” Dale said and continued walking.

They checked on a few groups of mages and guards, cleaning up through the night or stabilizing buildings that might have otherwise collapsed.

The damage to the city was quite low, considering the expected result of that siege.

Ilea said her goodbyes to Dale an hour later, letting the man return to his deserved rest.

She herself patrolled the walls in her black armor, keeping an eye out for soldiers and beasts alike. None of the guards complained.

Soft rain started to fall shortly after, washing away the remaining blood from the battlefield. The event would live on in the memories of the people living here, in history books and government reports. To the monsters lurking in the dark, it meant nothing.

They would continue to prowl the night, looking for prey. A few did show up, scouring the fields in the search of injured beings or a half eaten carcass. They all gave up after a while.

Ilea watched after a group of four legged hound like creatures, slowly walking back into the thicket.

The guards around her gulped but she didn’t know if it was because of the monsters out there or the one standing amongst them.

Those who had seen her fight approached her quite different than the citizens who had merely heard about it. The guards respected or feared her. For many of the people who had called out to her that day, she assumed it was still hard to believe.

A normal looking healer. Sure, her level was high but to a level thirty farmer, what did that mean? They didn’t understand the difference between a level one hundred adventurer and a Shadow. Not truly.

The name carried weight, fear. They didn’t know about the dangers involved in reaching level three hundred, the unlimited potential every human carried within them in this strange magic touched world.

“Tea?” a man asked, joining them on top of the wall. He was clad in armor, part of the hunters. In his hands he carried a tray with a few mugs and a pot, steam rising lazily as raindrops trailed down the dark ceramic form.

He noticed Ilea then but other than his eyes opening a little further, he showed no visible reaction.

“Gladly, thanks,” she said and stepped over, pouring herself a cup.

“I’ll take some too,” one of the others said.

They stood in silence for a little while, looking into the night together as they sipped on their tea. A combination of herbs with a note of citrus. It would help a little with staying vigilant and awake.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” one of the guards asked.

Ilea looked over, still clad in her armor. She took a sip of tea, the ash parting at her mouth to allow for the motion. “I hope they don’t.”

“They didn’t seem to be an issue for you. No offense meant,” the woman to her left said.

Ilea sighed.

She turned and continued to patrol the walls, making sure the city was safe well into the night.

Ilea left when the first signs of dawn seeped into the horizon, only a few gray clouds hanging above.

A short stop at the Vultures let her mark Walter after a short discussion. He had a way to comprehend parts of the spell, content to have a way to call for her. Weavy hadn’t returned yet and word of the battle would likely reach them in the coming days.

Hours passed as Ilea rushed back to meet her appointment in the arena. Thoughts of the soldiers she had killed were on her mind. There had been better ways to deal with the situation, and worse. She accepted her decisions but allowed herself to think of them. Perhaps to honor them, or to make a part of her calm down, a part that still clung to the idea that murder was a heinous crime, no matter the circumstances.

That part did not know war, the split second decisions that would cost the lives of hundreds of thinking, living beings. It did not comprehend the power she now wielded, the weapon she had become.

It demanded a satisfying conclusion to a complicated conflict, structured and with a redeeming end for both the hero and the villain.

There had however not been heroes or villains. Only people, all striving to defend what was theirs or to take what they deemed as such.

Maybe it had been a mistake to let Lord Harken live. The deaths were in a major part on him and his decisions. She didn’t know if he would accept Alistair’s demands, didn’t know if he would adhere to the rules placed upon him in the coming years. Or if her decision would lead to thousands more deaths.

Ilea knew that questions and decisions like these were exactly the kinds she had tried to avoid in the first place. However, as long as a shred of morality and care remained in her, she thought it impossible to escape them entirely.

She had become a monster years ago. Had fought and killed to stay alive and to gain more power, most of all for the sheer joy of it. The line between a monster that destroyed and one that protected was thin but once more, she decided to strive for the latter.

The marks would help her be free, only to be called upon in emergencies. Hopefully without being involved in petty politics or manipulated as a piece on someone’s board of conquest.

She was looking forward to breakfast, and the simple joy of having magic crash into her magically empowered body.

_________________________

Nathan finally came to a stop, groaning as he checked around himself. Luke was moaning in pain somewhere to his right and Celeste was still rolling down the steep decline according to the shouts.

He rolled to the side once more, the pain in his thigh confirming that he hadn’t gotten out of this unscathed.

“I need light,” Lorelei said in her calm voice.

Of course, he thought before a small flame came to life above his open palm. It flickered when Celeste landed, the girl chuckling to herself before she winced.

She had managed to land on her feet and in a crouch but the height had taken its toll.

“Status?” Nathan asked as he walked over to Lorelei, his hand pressed to his thigh as he felt wet blood flowing from an open wound.

“He cut his cheek and hit his head,” Lorelei said.

Nathan moved his pack and crouched, wincing as the pain flowed through him. The temptation to deactivate the pain was there but he knew how dangerous that would be. He might just collapse due to blood loss or an infection without even realizing it.

Celeste stepped up, ripping a rag in two before she grabbed the bottle of alcohol Nathan held out to her.

He pointed to his own thigh and Luke, touching his own cheek.

The girl nodded and soaked the rags before handing one to Lorelai.

Nathan grit his teeth through the sharp pain of the liquid cleansing his wound. He let the girl apply a bandage with enough pressure to stop most of the bleeding.

He forced more mana into the flame to provide a better view, glancing at Lorelai who took care of Luke. The man would be fine in a few minutes, if the hit to his head hadn’t been too much to handle.

Everyone was quiet, listening, watching. Lorelai worked.

No monster had shown up so far but it would only be a matter of time.

He checked the message he had received halfway down the slope.

‘ding’ ‘You have entered the Hidden Gulch dungeon’