Chương 60: Aftermath

I slowly poked my head out from behind my protective boulder, which had successfully transitioned from its original earthy brown to a lovely, freshly charred shade of apocalyptic black. I sniffed the air, realizing the suffocating stench of rotting village sludge had been completely replaced by the crisp, unmistakable aroma of heavily roasted garden pests. Squinting through the rising plumes of dark smoke, I checked out the epicenter of June's little magical temper tantrum.

To put it gently, the immediate area had been aggressively deleted. There were no twitchy insect wings left, no pulsing violet face flowers, and absolutely zero signs of the four Creepers who had been trying to turn Dimitri into chew toys. The ground was just a giant, smoking circle of black soot, looking exactly like a barren barbecue pit after a very successful cookout.

"Has the curtain fallen on this terrible trial, and do the hearts of my magnificent comrades still beat with the sweet rhythm of life?" Dimitri's thick Russian accent boomed out from nearby, vibrating with an overwhelming amount of pure, unadulterated kindness. I watched as our burly, iron-pot wearing savior stepped out from behind a massive, towering rock formation a few yards away.

He looked entirely unscathed, which was a statistical miracle considering he had just been acting as a literal meat shield for a miniature sun. He carefully set June down, and she immediately began violently dusting off her Faded Linen Tunic with an expression that suggested the smoke was personally insulting her ancestors. Right behind them, Aiko shuffled into view, her tiny frame still shaking like a blender full of marbles as she nervously checked her bladed gauntlets for any non-existent damage.

They had somehow made it through the entire thermonuclear event without a single scratch.

"Yeah, I am still technically among the living, much to my own personal surprise," I called out, giving my Padded Gambit Jacket a quick inspection to ensure I wasn't secretly on fire.

"My soul nearly took a permanent vacation, but we are good. How about you over there, Fiona?" A soft rustling sound caught my attention from the edge of the clearing. Fiona slowly peeked her head out from behind the trunk of a massive, ancient tree that was currently glowing with a few lazy, crackling embers. Her forest-green mantle was dusted with a fine layer of fresh soot, but she looked completely bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

She stepped out into the clearing, her dew-strider moccasins crunching on the burnt earth as she stared directly at the blackened, smoking crater in the center of the village square. Her eyes went completely wide with a pure, childlike sense of absolute amazement, utterly fascinated by the sheer destructive majesty of the elemental fire.

She turned her gaze toward the rest of our traumatized traveling circus, a giant, soot-stained grin spreading across her face as she enthusiastically raised a single thumb straight up into the air to let us know she was perfectly fine. I took a slow, panoramic look around the smoking ruins of the village square, completely baffled by the local physics of this place.

The sheer volume of thermonuclear energy June had just dropped on our heads should have realistically turned the entire Whispering Weald into a massive, uncontrolled bonfire visible from outer space. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"I am honestly completely shocked that we didn't just accidentally trigger a massive, region-wide forest fire," I remarked, scratching the side of my head beneath my squint-guard bandana.

"An explosive payload that ridiculously overpowered should have definitely burned down this entire corner of the world." Dimitri stepped forward, his massive frame radiating an immense amount of pure, unadulterated kindness as he adjusted his dented iron pot helmet. He looked out over the smoking borders of the thicket, his face softening into the expression of a proud father looking at a particularly durable playground.

"Ah, my brilliant young friend, perhaps the magnificent creators of Eteria have woven a secret thread of protection into the very fabric of this earth," Dimitri rumbled, his thick Russian accent warming the chilly, ash-filled air.

"They ensure that this beautiful world remains steadfast, refusing to allow the glorious, necessary calamities of our righteous battles to permanently destroy its natural splendor!"

"Well, that is great for the trees, I guess," I replied, gesturing with a thumb toward the immediate vicinity of our barbecue party.

"But the actual real estate completely lost the lottery. The houses have been entirely deleted from the map, and the poor villagers sprawled out in the square just received a completely free, highly aggressive cremation service." June let out a sharp, delicate sniff, crossing her arms over her Faded Linen Tunic as she looked down her nose at the scorched, barren earth where the purple sludge used to be.

Her thick, hyper-aristocratic British accent was practically dripping with her usual heavy layers of royal condescension and narcissistic grandeur.

"Oh, do please stop your tedious, small-minded whining, Arthur," June huffed, tossing her head back with a thoroughly dramatic flair.

"I highly doubt the former residents of this rather dreary establishment will be filing any formal complaints regarding their lack of housing or their sudden lack of a proper funeral service. They are already thoroughly and irrevocably deceased, after all." The sheer, unapologetic coldness of her words hit my ears like a bucket of ice water.

A wave of irritation surged through my gut, and I immediately opened my mouth, fully prepared to launch into a spectacular, high-volume lecture about how she was an absolute, heartless monster who lacked even a single drop of basic human empathy. But the words completely died right in the back of my throat the very instant my eyes locked onto her face. Behind the flawless, arrogant mask of high-society superiority she always wore like a shield, her eyes were telling a completely different story.

They were wide, trembling slightly, and swimming with a deep, heavy current of genuine, profound sadness as she stared at the ashes of the town. Seeing that quiet, hidden grief fracturing her royal persona completely threw me off guard, making me swallow my angry retort and keep my judgmental opinions strictly to myself. I shifted my gaze away from our resident tragic duchess and looked over at Aiko, who was still standing near the mini-crater she had so casually manufactured with her oversized iron relic.

"Well, that was absolutely not a terrible performance for your very first genuine dance with death, right, Aiko-chan?" I said, giving her a massive, encouraging grin as I patted the side of my blunderbuss.

"You did an absolutely stellar job out there. Seriously, you hit that thing so incredibly hard that my jaw literally detached itself from my skull and fell right into the mud." The compliment seemed to hit her system like a bolt of electricity. Aiko immediately winced, her entire face flushing a spectacular, brilliant shade of tomato red that stood out vividly against the soot-stained ruins of the village square.

She raised a heavily bound hand, her grimy leather brawler wraps scraping softly against her messy dark hair as she nervously scratched the back of her head, completely overwhelmed by the sudden spotlight.

"A-Arthur-san," Aiko whispered, her voice dropping down to a hyper-delicate, low-volume squeak that I could barely hear over the crackling embers of the burnt trees. She stared down at her own heavy boots, her entire frame trembling as she twisted her hands together.

"I... th-thank you... ever so m-much. Aiko-san was... I was s-so incredibly t-terrified... b-but... thank you." She slowly tilted her head up, peeking through her messy bangs to look straight at me. As she did, she offered a soft, radiantly sweet smile that completely scrambled my internal circuitry. It was the exact kind of legendary, heart-melting expression that you only ever see on a high-budget romance anime during the absolute emotional climax of the season.

In fact, it was so ridiculously perfect that a massive wave of intense imposter syndrome immediately washed over my brain, making me genuinely doubt the structural integrity of reality. I mean, let us look at the facts here. There was an incredibly cute, high-tier-greatsword-wielding girl looking at a complete, standard-issue nobody like me with absolute adoration.

It was a statistical impossibility that felt so entirely out of my league, I was fully prepared to look behind myself to see if she was accidentally smiling at a much more heroic-looking rock.