Chapter 327 - Achilles’ decision (1/2)
”Rosespire's here people, get your shit together,” yelled a broad looking man with a scar on the forehead. Walls now of a greenish moss color caused by rain felt as if the foliage of a tall tree on a rainy day. Dull and somber, a truck of many passengers had made the trip of a week and a few to the Hidros' heart.
”Lady,” said the same man, ”-you better head to the guild and report what has happened,” throwing a gaze of sympathy, he jumped aboard the truck to return from whence he came.
Inside the walls, life went on oblivious to the pain and suffering endured at the border.
Stood with a singular bag atop which rested a sword with a broken blade, Achilles stared the passersby emptily. 'I'm home,' she thought with ever so heavier memories.
”You there,” hailed a guard on horseback, ”-adventurer?”
Flashing her tag, the man gave a nod to then point at a bus. ”New transit for visiting adventurers,” said doubtfully, the horse neighed to sprint down the street.
”You coming?” asked the diver with a cap shadowing his gaze. Aboard, a peek through the windows revealed strong-willed individuals with less than inviting faces. At the back sat the worse, battle scars that would have shuddered a normal man. Coming to the bus, the fare displayed in ill.u.s.tration.
'Three coppers,' sighed, she climbed on board and sat at the first opened seat. The outside felt duller than the walls of moss. Despair, faced with utmost evil, her boon of invincibility had saved her life. Flashes of the day kept on haunting as if a jarring old wound.
Settled under a white blanket with medics at her side, the tent's opening flapped with the wind. Unconscious for two days, wakened to the sound of horse hooves, her eyes opened sharply.
”Achilles,” smiled the nurse with a medic bag with potions and scrolls behind. ”You're awake.”
”What about the others?” fatigued, rising her own head felt as if trying to breathe underwater. A desperate attempt to swim ending in naught but death. Courteously, the nurse slipped a hand under Achilles's pillow to then give a little push.
”You should really be more careful,” said the nurse faced with she who sat on the edge of the bed. The adventurer kept a gaze of want. Her thirst for knowing what had happened made the medic nervous.
*Recon party has made it back,* screamed a childish voice who ran to pass the information.
”Wait,” yelled the nurse as her patient stood.
”Sorry, I need answers,” sharp and direct, parting the entrance, light burst forth. The medical camp stood a few meters away from the briefing area. All who fought had their orders given by the Dungeon Master for it wasn't wise to go onto a death march. Head lowered and stood on a small wooden podium a few inches off the dirt floor, adventurers stopped and stared.
”Greetings comrades in arms,” a deep raspy voice echoed to grab all the focus, ”-it has been a few days since of the mysterious rumble that cut out connection with the Exploration team. We've tried hard and mighty to get back said connection. Sadly, after recovering one of the members; a recon party was sent forth. Battled all the way to floor 30, bodyless stains of blood are all that remain. Weapons, armor, and most importantly, the Guild Tags told but one thing, the team's extermination. Thanks to their courageous efforts, us of the Dungeon, can entrust their knowledge onto the new generations. Their deaths will not be in vain,” stood with a salute, ”-let's have a moment of silence to remember those who perished.” Stone cold, the one minutes felt like an hour, Achilles fell to her knees upon hearing the news. Hard was it to think of the what-ifs.
Later that day, the Dungeon Master paid a visit. The shock of losing someone she thought of as family had the world around crumbling. A singular thought went through the mind, the faces of the Lymsey sisters who faced the same heart-tearing sadness. In the middle of it all, the man who had called her forth from another dimension, Staxius. She longed for how he had hugged and comforted the girls; the Argonaut wanted to be consoled.
”Lady Achilles,” stood with hats taken off, ”-I'm sure you've heard of the news,” after which, a carton box was brought by an assistant. ”These were all the salvage team recovered,” weapons, pieces of armor, and guild-tags. ”In respect of those who died, we're returning this to thee.” Sat inside the dormitory, the door to her room closed.
”There's no need for being softhearted,” said Achilles with a forced smile, ”-the armor will be more useful to the living than dead. I've but one request, return what remains of Kyle; else known as Deadeyes.” The dimness from the lack of a window had an atmosphere on the edge of peril – any wrong move could have an adverse reaction.
”As you wish,” stern, ”-tis what remains,” a pistol, a lock-in which had the picture of a couple with the man's face hidden by smeared-blood, and the Guild-tag.
”I appreciate it,” she said with emptied eyes.
”I know this to be sudden,” coughed the vice-leader, ”-what are thy plans?”
”Plans,” she stared to then face the floor, ”-I've lost my way as a warrior. I failed my friends when they needed it most, that monster isn't Boss-class; tis a demon,” elbows to her legs, her eyes closed in solitude.
”There's another thing,” just as the vice-leader was to speak, ”-wait,” interjected the Dungeon Leader. ”A truck is leaving later today. Rest is a must if thou wish to rise from the ashes again. Despair not, Achilles of Kniq, the one who bears the mantle of a hero, we'll wait for thy return.” Startled to be cut off, the vice-leader frowned with the Dungeon leader glaring.
The bus came to a screech; ”-adventuring guild,” voiced the driver. One hand through the bag, Achilles got off with a neutral face. Chatter and smiles of young warriors spanned till the entrance. Excited by gear, a new quest, or boasting about new skills. Common behavior for those fresh of heart.
”Please, this way, there's plenty to go around,” smiled Melisa as they dealt with the daily overflow of quests request.
”STAND IN LINE OR NONE SHALL BE QUESTING,” as eager as ever, Diane's strong personality had the men cower to make a line. Displayed across the screens were the request to protecting caravans, the extermination of bandits, or kill-quests.
*Boof* heavy bag dropped onto an empty table; Achilles took a seat with an empty wallet.
”How may I be of service?” came one of the waiters.
”A coffee,” she reached for her bank-card, ”-bring the one that is most bitter,” with a tap, the waiter bowed out of her vision. 'This place never changes,' tightly grabbed, her left hand-held multiple guild-tags.