Chương 60: Phobia

The group made their way toward the Jupiter residence. As they approached, Noah noticed someone standing outside. Alaric. He stood alone beneath the shade of the manor, holding the small pendant that contained a photograph of his wife and son. Tears glistened faintly in his deep red eyes as his thumb brushed across the image.

"Judgment Day is approaching," he murmured. His voice was so quiet that Noah almost missed it.

"I hope she'll spare her." Noah slowed. Before he could ask what Alaric meant, the man looked up. His eyes landed on Cyrus. Alaric quickly wiped away his tears and snapped the pendant shut.

"Cyrus?" For a moment, genuine surprise crossed his face. Then he smiled.

"Is that really you?" Cyrus's expression softened.

"It's been ages," Alaric said, stepping forward.

"It's good to see you." Cyrus closed the distance between them and pulled his cousin into a hug. Alaric froze for only a fraction of a second. Then he returned it. The warmth in his face looked real. For once, Noah saw none of the strange purple light in Alaric's eyes. No disgust. No hidden malice. Only a man embracing family he had not seen in a century. Cyrus pulled back, still gripping Alaric's shoulders.

"How have you been after all this time?" Alaric gave a faint shrug.

"Could be better." His smile weakened slightly.

"Could be worse." He adjusted his glasses.

"I've mainly been working as a therapist." Cyrus raised an eyebrow.

"A therapist?"

"Someone has to keep the students at the Heroes Academy from losing their minds."

"That sounds impossible."

"It is." Alaric chuckled. Then his gaze dropped toward the pendant in his hand.

"I also have a beautiful wife and son." His voice cracked slightly on the word wife. Noah noticed. So did Cyrus. Alaric pretended it had not happened. He opened the pendant and held it out. Inside was a photograph of a smiling woman standing beside Alaric, with a young boy held between them. Cyrus studied the image.

"She looks familiar." His brows furrowed.

"I can't place where I've seen her before." Alaric's smile returned.

"My wife happens to be the leader of a famous idol group." Cyrus blinked.

"An idol?"

"They're very popular in the capital city," Alaric said, sounding almost proud.

"Their songs are played everywhere." He looked down at the photograph again.

"They're actually going to be hosting a concert before the tournament begins." Noah watched him carefully. The tenderness in Alaric's expression seemed genuine. But the words Noah had heard moments earlier lingered in his mind. Judgment Day is approaching. I hope she'll spare her. Noah glanced at the photograph. Alaric's wife smiled back at him from within the pendant. And for some reason, Noah felt as though he was looking at someone whose fate had already been decided. Cyrus looked away from the photograph.

Then he took a breath.

"Hey." Alaric glanced at him.

"I was wondering if you would like to come back to Helheim." Alaric's smile faded slightly. Cyrus continued before he could answer. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"I know things might be difficult between us after what happened between our parents." His fingers tightened at his sides.

"But we're still family." For a moment, Alaric said nothing. Then he closed the pendant.

"Don't worry." His voice remained gentle.

"I don't hold any hatred toward you." Cyrus looked relieved, but Alaric's expression stayed distant.

"Your father was manipulated by Nihil," Alaric said.

"Mine was manipulated by Lux." Noah stiffened at the name. Alaric stared down at the pendant in his hand.

"It was nothing more than a sick killing game between gods." His voice turned bitter.

"And when the game ended, all that remained were corpses and orphans." Cyrus lowered his gaze.

"I suppose that's one way to describe it."

"It's the only way I've ever understood it." Alaric pushed his glasses up.

"But I can't return to Helheim." Cyrus looked back at him.

"Not yet," Alaric added. His smile returned, though it looked tired now.

"There are still many things I need to do first." Cyrus studied him for a moment. Then he nodded.

"Alright." He placed one hand on Alaric's shoulder.

"That makes sense." Alaric looked at him.

"Just remember that there will always be a home waiting for you." Cyrus smiled.

"Cynthia and I would both be happy to welcome you." Something flickered across Alaric's face. Pain. Longing. Perhaps even guilt. Then he smiled back.

"Thank you." The two cousins continued talking for a long time. They spoke about Helheim. About Cynthia. About Alaric's wife and son. About memories from a childhood neither of them could fully remember anymore. Alaric seemed genuinely happy. His laughter came easily. His smile remained warm. For several hours, he looked like nothing more than a man reunited with the family he had lost. But later that night— Alaric wandered alone through the streets of Lævateinn. The festival crowds had thinned.

Music still echoed from distant taverns, but the streets around him were nearly empty. His eyes were no longer red. They had turned completely purple. Alaric reached into his coat and removed a clown mask. He stared at it for a moment. Then placed it over his face. His body began to change. His shoulders narrowed. His frame became slimmer. His features softened beneath the mask as his form grew more feminine. Green hair lengthened down his back.

Even his presence shifted, becoming lighter and stranger, as if Alaric Sanguine had been peeled away to reveal someone else beneath him. She entered the Masked Pig. The noise inside died immediately. Lupin stopped pouring a drink. Illusionist went silent. Artificer straightened. Inari's hand left his glass. Then every Crow in the room dropped to one knee. Every one of them. Even Lupin. Only Adam remained standing. The figure in the clown mask walked into the center of the bar.

Purple eyes gleamed through the narrow openings. The Crows bowed their heads. Lupin remained on one knee, though the tension in his body was obvious.

"I didn't think you would be in this city, ma'am." His usual easy confidence had vanished.

"This mission was going well. There shouldn't be any need for the third-in-command to be here." Phobia tilted her head. The third-in-command of The Crows. The only figure within the organization who stood above the Seven Wings, aside from The Doctor and Owl. Codename— Phobia.

"Don't worry." Her voice was playful, but no one in the room relaxed.

"I have no interest in interfering with your mission." She strolled toward the bar, her movements almost graceful.

"I was merely curious to see how things were progressing." Lupin slowly raised his head. Phobia's purple eyes glimmered beneath the mask.

"My other self has decided to participate in the tournament." Adam's gaze sharpened slightly from the edge of the room. Phobia chuckled.

"And since he may very well win, I'll ensure the sword reaches you." Her head turned toward the kneeling Wings.

"I'm positive he could easily defeat all of you, at least." Silence followed. Inari remained still. Lupin forced out a quiet laugh.

"If you face Charlie, try to make him surrender." His voice had regained some composure.

"Our plans require him to face the Hero in the final round." Phobia tapped one finger against the side of her mask.

"I'll try." Then she laughed softly.

"I also heard Magician is in town." The atmosphere shifted again.

"He isn't competing, though," Phobia continued.

"If hhe did, the tournament would become a bloodbath." Lupin's expression stiffened.

"That brat merely wants to gamble for a while." The Wing of Greed. Considered the strongest of the Seven Wings. Codename— Magician. Lupin gave a nervous smile.

"I see." He slowly rose to his feet.

"Then I'll try not to piss him off."

"A wise decision." Phobia took a seat at the bar. Her feminine form rested comfortably against the stool as if she had not just made an entire room of monsters kneel.

"Pour me a drink." Lupin moved behind the counter immediately. Phobia raised one hand.

"A toast to our future victory." Lupin poured the liquor and slid the glass toward her. Then he lifted his own.

"A toast to our future victory." The others slowly raised their drinks. Even Adam lifted a glass, though he did not drink. Phobia held hers beneath the dim light of the Masked Pig. Purple eyes stared through the clown mask.

"To Everfall." The Crows repeated the name.

"To Everfall." Phobia's smile could be heard in her voice.

"And to the end of this era's Hero." The glasses struck together. Outside, Lævateinn prepared to celebrate the beginning of its tournament. Inside the Masked Pig, The Crows prepared for war.