CHAPTER 119: CHAPTER 119

"Thank you, Cassius," Satou said. "You’ve done well."

Cassius straightened, and Satou could see relief in his usually stoic expression. "I am glad you survived, my lord. The power you now emanate is... considerable. I believe your fight with Richard Clay will be very interesting indeed."

More people came forward—goblins who’d served under him, orcs from the Iron Fang tribe, Each one wanted to see him, to confirm he was really back, to welcome their chief home.

But Satou noticed one particular person pushing through the crowd, her distinctive administrator’s bearing making people step aside instinctively.

Lyra.

She stopped about ten feet away, her eyes scanning Satou’s transformed appearance. He could see her mind working, cataloging the changes—the scales, the eyes, the way he stood differently now, with coiled power that hadn’t been there before.

For a moment, neither spoke. The crowd around them seemed to sense something significant was happening and began to disperse slightly, giving them space.

Then Lyra walked forward, her steps measured and deliberate. She stopped directly in front of Satou, tilted her head back to meet his glowing eyes, and said in a perfectly calm administrator’s voice:

"You’re late. The fight is in three hours, which means we have very little time for proper debriefing."

Satou blinked. Of all the reactions he’d expected, professional efficiency hadn’t been it.

Then Lyra’s composure cracked. Her hand came up and smacked his chest—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make her point.

"You idiot!" Her voice broke slightly. "You absolute idiot! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Seven days! Seven days of not knowing if you were alive or dead! Of wondering if you’d ever come back! Of trying to keep everything running while feeling like half of me was missing!"

Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and suddenly she was pressed against his chest, her arms wrapping around him as if to confirm he was real.

"You came back," she whispered. "You actually came back. You’re so stupid for risking yourself like that, but you came back."

Satou wrapped his arms around her, careful of his new claws, and held her close. "I promised I would. I always keep my promises."

"Your skin feels different," Lyra mumbled against his chest. "Harder. Like armor. And you’re warmer than before. And you smell like... I don’t even know. Like thunderstorms and deep earth and something I can’t identify."

"Dragon essence," Satou explained quietly. "And void energy. I’m not exactly what I was before."

"I don’t care," Lyra said fiercely, pulling back to look up at him. "Scales, glowing eyes, whatever—I don’t care. You’re still you. You’re still the person who took me and made me believe in building something better. You’re still the person I—"

She stopped, suddenly aware they had an audience. Many people had dispersed, but some remained, watching the reunion with interest.

"Everyone," Satou called out, his deeper voice carrying easily across the courtyard. "Thank you for the welcome. I need to speak with my advisors about the upcoming fight and settlement matters. Please return to your duties. We’ll have a proper celebration after I return from the Arena of Fallen Stars. Victorious."

The confidence in his last word wasn’t bravado. He believed it now. He’d beaten the Dungeon of Eternal Nightmares. Richard Clay was just another challenge to overcome.

The crowd began to truly disperse now, people heading back to their homes and workstations. Urgak nodded to Satou and left to coordinate security. Cassius bowed and vanished into shadows, returning to his patrol duties.

Kelvin hesitated, clearly wanting to stay, but Lyra gave him a meaningful look. The young hobgoblin sighed dramatically but grinned. "Fine, fine. I can see when I’m not wanted. But big brother, you better tell me everything later! I want to hear about every floor of that dungeon!"

"I promise," Satou said. "Later."’

Kelvin ran off, leaving Satou and Lyra relatively alone in the courtyard. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the settlement. In three hours, Satou would face Richard Clay. But right now, he had time for this.

"Where’s Jessica?" Satou asked, suddenly realizing the healing specialist hadn’t appeared to greet him. "I expected her to be here."

Lyra’s expression shifted—something complicated crossing her features. Concern mixed with understanding mixed with something that might have been exasperation.

"She didn’t come," Lyra said quietly. "When the scout announced you were back, I saw her. She was in the healing hall, and she heard the announcement. But she didn’t come out."

"Why not?" Satou’s brow furrowed with concern.

"Satou..." Lyra took his hand, leading him toward the administrative building. "What did you do to Jessica before you left?"

The question was gentle but pointed. Lyra had noticed something, and she wanted answers.

They entered the building, and Lyra closed the door behind them, giving them complete privacy. She gestured for Satou to sit in one of the chairs, and she took the one across from him—the same setup they’d used for countless administrative meetings. But this wasn’t an administrative meeting.

"Tell me everything," Lyra said. "What happened with Jessica?"

Satou took a deep breath and told her. Everything. How Jessica had been acting strangely. How she’d realized she had feelings for him that went beyond sibling affection. How he’d gently but firmly told her he couldn’t return those feelings. How she’d been crying when he’d left her to go inform Lyra about the upcoming fight.

As he spoke, Lyra’s expression went through several changes. Surprise that Jessica had feelings for Satou. Understanding of why that would be complicated. Sympathy for Jessica’s situation. And finally, something that looked like fond exasperation.

When Satou finished, Lyra was quiet for a long moment, her fingers steepled in front of her face in what Satou recognized as her "deep thought" pose.

Then she lowered her hands and looked at him with an expression he’d never seen before—exasperated affection mixed with disbelief.

"You dummy," she said.

Satou blinked. In all the time he’d known Lyra, through all their interactions, all their meetings, all their intimate moments—she had never called anyone names. She was always professional, always composed, always choosing her words with precision.