Kalana knew that she was probably getting on the woman's nerves, but she didn't care. "Just take one bite," she said. "You need to eat at least a little bit."

"I don't want any. Get it away."

"Just one bite and I'll stop bugging you."

"This is humiliating," Anelia relented, opening her mouth. Kalana carefully put some chicken on the fork and put the fork gently into her mouth. She had to make sure the pieces were small so the woman didn't intentionally try to choke to death. "Can you let me out of these cuffs?"

Right now, Kalana was sitting in an air-conditioned cell in downtown Whispery Woods with the woman, who she now knew was named Anelia Hellcrest. It had been decided that it was best to move her here to this region, for her safety as well as others. Light filtered in from two large windows above the cell. It was a few hours before noon, and Kalana had been with her since early yesterday when she'd made the arrest, meaning slightly more than a day had passed since her capture. Since then, Kalana hadn't left her side, fearing her mom might resort to "advanced tactics" to get her to speak. Thankfully, Jascaila had volunteered to watch Pete for the time being, which meant Kalana could put her efforts on getting to know her prisoner.

At the moment, Anelia's hands were bound behind her on the chair she was sitting on, and Kalana, though tempted, knew she couldn't let her out.

"I can't," she said. "You know I can't. Umm, the first time we tried, you beat up an Elf. I've never seen a human do that before, by the way. At least not to one who was leveled. And then you broke out of the lower-level cuffs we put you in. I just really don't want you to get hurt."

Anelia was still pretty injured, as having been stripped of all her equipment and forcibly dressed in a medical gown, she no longer had enough constitution for passive HP Regeneration, meaning her face was still bruised, and she was banged up all over. Regardless, passive HP regeneration wouldn't have helped with her broken arm, wrist, or nose. Only time or a red stone would, and Kalana was fresh out of those or she'd have just given her one.

"Have you thought about talking to us?" Kalana asked her.

"Yep. And my answer is still no. I've got nothing to say."

"Please?"

Anelia laughed. "You know, I hate to say this, girlie, but you're growing on me."

"I am?"

"Yeah. You might've beaten the shit out of me, but you're so fucking cute I can't stand it. You're a real softie. Too good for this world, actually."

"Thanks," Kalana said somewhat awkwardly.

She actually smiled. "You're welcome."

Though Alex had tried his best, he hadn't been able to make any ground with the woman, and neither had Kalana, her mother, or anyone else who had tried. She just wasn't willing to talk, and this was a problem, because they really needed her to confess what she'd done in order to strongarm Vim into cooperating. Alex was actually coming by in a little bit to try again, and he seemed really optimistic this time, actually. He said he and her mom had discovered a "new way to get through to her." Since Alex was approving of it, it couldn't possibly be torture, but beyond that, Kalana had no idea what they were planning.

"How's your pain today?" she asked.

"It fucking hurts," Anelia stated bluntly.

"I'm really sorry. It hurts me too. I know that sounds crazy."

"Nope, I can tell," Anelia said. "I bet it hurt you more than me, haha."

"Actually, it kinda did. I didn't want to break your bones. I wish you didn't make me. But umm, if you'll let me help you, I can—"

"Don't need your help. Thanks for asking, though."

Regardless of the bad things she'd done, Kalana was totally fascinated by the woman. It was safe to say she'd never met anyone like Anelia before. And it was also safe to say that she was the toughest woman Kalana had ever met in her life. Nothing seemed to break her spirit. When she fought, she threw aside every single consideration regarding her health and safety. It was almost inspiring in a very strange sort of way. If only she wasn't fighting for such a bad man.

"Can you at least tell me one thing? I promise I won't report it, and you're not being recorded right now."

"You really think you can get me to answer your questions?"

"Mhm. Because this won't violate your honor-thingy."

"My 'honor thingy?'"

"Yeah, you know what I mean." Kalana scooted her metal chair closer to Anelia's in the small cell. "I just wanna know: do you actually like Vim Alazar? As in, do you think he's such a good leader that it's worth you being loyal to him? Or is it just about the money?"

"Fine, I'll answer that question," she said. "It's just the money. I think the guy's a fucking prick. Don't care for him at all."

"So then, how come you won't just turn on him?"

"My honor thingy," she replied cheekily. "I get paid not to break, and I'm proud of my work. But no, I don't like him. He's an ass."

"My mom likes him, believe it or not," Kalana said. "I dunno why."

"I do."

"You do?"

"Yeah. It's 'cause Vim is sick in the head and therefore doesn't fear her for some reason like he should. And your mom's probably not used to being around people who will talk shit right to her face."

"Wow, you're pretty observant."

"I get paid to be."

"Open up," Kalana said, feeding her another forkful of chicken. She complied, thankfully.

At some point yesterday evening, things between the two of them had changed, organically, too. She just sort of stopped being violent around Kalana. Everyone else? Yeah, she would thrash and fight. But she'd at least stopped being mean to Kalana, and Kalana wasn't sure why. She decided to finally ask her outright.

"How come you're not spitting in my face anymore? You still spit in everyone else's face."

Anelia made a deep, but brief chuckle. "I just can't do it," she said. "You really are such a sweet girl." There was a rare softness in her voice. "It makes me hate myself to be mean to you. I don't know if this is some kind of carefully calculated psyop or if it's your genuine personality, but it's hard for me to be angry with you."

Kalana scrunched up her lips, confused. "I dunno what a psyop is, but thank you, I guess. And I'll try to get you a red stone if I can. They're not as hard to get as they used to be. But shh, that's our secret, okay?"

"Sure thing, kid. They're never gonna let me out of here alive anyway, so anything you tell me is going with me to the grave."

Kalana firmly shook her head. "You're safe here. There's no way anybody's ever gonna kill you. You might go to jail for a while, but that would be the worst thing that can happen to you."

"How do you figure?" she asked. "Jails can't hold leveled people. The only punishment is exile to South Bastia or execution. And anyone with sense would take execution."

"Nah-uh. Not anymore. The Elves are building a jail not far from here that can hold leveled people. Just like in the old days."

"Oh, yippie. I get to be the first leveled person in hundreds of years to rot away in prison."

"Well…you did murder people. And I don't even wanna send you to jail anymore. I did at first, but now I just wish there was some way we didn't have to, but it's not up to me. If it was up to me, I would forgive you. But I don't think it works that way."

"Well, maybe it can," a male voice said, causing Kalana to look over her shoulder.

In strode Alex, wearing a clean, freshly pressed white coat along with slacks. His glasses were sleeker than his last pair, and he wore a pleasant smile on his face. He pulled up a chair and sat across from the two of them. Then he looked at Kalana, who was sitting directly beside Anelia.

"Are you two buddies now or something?" he asked.

Anelia made a "hmph" sound. "I guess. What's it to you, Oren?"

The man looked very confident today. From the expression on his face, he must've been certain that he was finally going to get what he wanted from her. Kalana still wasn't sure how, though, but as long as it didn't involve abuse or torture, she was fine with it. At any rate, Alex seemed content to just sit there across from them and relax for the moment. It was strange, and even Anelia seemed to recognize the strangeness of it.

"No questions for me today, science boy?"

"Oh, I have plenty," he said. "But I'm the wrong person to ask you them. I realize that now." He paused as the sound of footsteps clicked against the tiled flooring of the outside hallway. The metal, shuttered door opened up, and in walked her mother, dressed as elegant as always in a red, flowing, and backless dress. She looked totally out of place in this downtown peacekeeper station.

"Good morning, daughter," she said. "And good morning to you, Anelia Hellcrest."

With a twisted grin, Anelia lowered her head, and somewhat sardonically, she said, "Good morning, Your Majesty."

Taking a seat right next to Alex, her mother folded her hands on the desk and said, "Oh, it is a good morning indeed today, human. For the both of us."

"Oh? Is that right?"

"Yes." In a gesture that made Kalana extremely curious and worried, her mother, standing right back up only a moment after sitting down, strode her way around the table until she was behind Anelia. "Let me take those cuffs off you. You must be very, very uncomfortable."

She inserted the key into the lock, and they popped open. Anelia, looking bewildered, asked, "Aren't you worried I'm going to jump up and start fighting you? Because I'm about to."

"No, you won't do that. You wouldn't dare. It would make you look quite terrible."

"Look…terrible?"

"I have some good news for you, human. You have visitors."

"Visitors?" she asked, seeming genuinely intrigued. "The hell do you mean I have visitors?"

"Shall I bring them in? They've been begging me to see you with tears in their eyes. It broke my heart," she said coldly. "So, I've decided to grant their request for a visit."

Now, out of literally nowhere, Anelia began to look worried: very worried. Apprehension spread over her features. She looked more upset now than she had looked when trying to swallow the poison pills.

Turning her back to the woman, Kalana watched as her mom walked to the exit, opened it, and stuck just her right hand out. "They can come in now," she said. What followed were two very, very eager pairs of footsteps along with a woman's voice. And it was this voice that caused Anelia to immediately begin shuddering in her chair.

"Thank you so much, my beautiful, kind queen. Thank you! The Gods bless you and every Elf in the world. Your kindness is beyond anything a commoner like me deserves."

"Nonsense. Come now, human. I know you wish to be reunited."

Kalana became worried. What the heck was going on? Not even the reassuring look Alex was giving her was enough to calm the doubt she felt rising within herself. Especially as Anelia, the stonelike, super-tough hitwoman, began whimpering. Literally out of nowhere, she coughed, whimpered, and then looked away.

"Please don't hurt them. Please," she begged.

"Hurt who?" Kalana asked.

Anelia looked pleadingly at her. "This is a power play. Somehow, they've found the only two people I love, and your mother is going to parade them in front of me as if to say, 'This is what I can do to you if you don't cooperate.'"

Kalana gasped, but before she could say a word in protest, Alex spoke up first. "Actually, you're completely wrong," he said to her. "No one—and I mean no one—is threatening them. And I give you my word in the name of the Gods that I would never allow that. But you'll soon see what I mean."

And with that, a woman and her very young child entered the holding cell. The woman looked to be in her late 30s, and she was instantly recognizable as a rural farming woman, likely from Den of Ziragoth, as she was wearing the remembrance patch on her overalls. The moment she walked into the cell, she stopped abruptly short, put her hand over her mouth, and began to cry profusely.

"Baby, no," she said, her eyes staring directly at Anelia's broken nose and her arm in the cast. "I knew this was going to happen to you. Why did you go? Why?"

Anelia sobbed. "I'm sorry, Denisoa. I'm so sorry. I fucked up."

"Anelia, what happened?" the little boy asked. "Are you…uh, umm, Mommy, is Anelia in trouble?"

Rather than answer, the woman ran across the room and buried her face in Anelia's chest, bawling and whimpering. And Kalana's heart broke. Because she was the one who put Anelia in this state.

"Why did you do this, Anelia?" she said in between sobs. "I begged you. I told you not to do this anymore. Why? And they say you tried to"—she lowered her voice so that the boy couldn't hear—"swallow poison? For what? For some code? What about me? What about Adim? Baby why? That's what I don't understand. I just don't understand why you did this. Please, tell me."

"You know why," she said, whimpering. "The money. For both of you."

Kalana wiped her own eyes. This was an unexpected development to say the least. Now, she felt bad for arresting her at all.

"What did they tell you?" Anelia asked.

"Everything. They told me all of it."

A panicked look came over Anelia's face. "Adim?"

"No, of course not."

She looked at the boy. "I can't talk with him in here."

Fylwen smiled. "We have a lovely, revamped daycare just across the street. Why don't I have one of my people take him there while we speak?"

The woman, Denisoa, nodded, but not before Anelia bent down, scooped him up, spun him around, and hugged him tightly. "I'm gonna be fine, Adim," she said, though Kalana wasn't sure if she herself believed it. "Be a good boy."

"Are you coming home with us, Anelia?"

"Probably not, little champion. But maybe someday soon."

"I miss you though."

"I know you do." She kissed his forehead and put him down. Then Fylwen took his hand and led him into the hallway, where another Elf asked him if he wanted to have fun.

"Yes!"

Then, Fylwen shut the door, and now all of them took a seat at the table. "I trust you'll behave with her around?" her mother asked.

"Of course she will," Denisoa replied, speaking for Anelia. Then she began crying again. "You got hurt so bad. I never wanted to see you like this. You're lucky the princess was the one to bring you in." She met Kalana's eyes. "Thank you so much for not killing her," she said, practically choking on her own tears. "Thank you, Princess Kalana."

"I…I would never," Kalana said. "I'm so sorry I hurt her. I swear I didn't want to. I even—"

"—begged her not to make you," she finished, surprising Kalana. "The queen told me the whole story. I know exactly what happened." Then, to Anelia, she said, "Why? Why are you like this?"

Anelia shifted as though uncomfortable. "I don't surrender, Denisoa. And I don't quit."

"But the Elves are not our enemies. They are our friends! They saved us. They bring food and medicine to our town. Why are you opposing them?"

"I'm not," Anelia said, forcefully. "You don't seem to understand that I don't 'have' enemies or allies. I get paid, I do my job. None of this is personal."

"So tell them what they want to know!"

"I can't," she said.

"Baby, please."

"Don't you understand that my reputation would be destroyed?"

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"What does that matter? You promised me this would be the last job."

"Well, I lied," Anelia growled. "I don't know who I am without my job. It's my entire sense of identity. Shit, Denisoa, don't you realize that by now? This is what I do. You always knew that."

"It doesn't have to be. Please just cooperate. Tell them it was the Royal Roses behind all this and not you. They might charge you for murder. Please tell her, Lord Oren."

He responded immediately almost as though he was hoping he'd be invited to speak on such a topic. "Given the fact that there was an active ceasefire at the time and that you aren't officially part of any guild military, your actions probably will be charged as homicide. Specifically, first-degree murder. Do you know what that is?"

"Nope. Never cared about the law."

"Well, let me explain. It's murder with the intent to kill. It means you not only murdered five people, but you did so in a way that was premeditated. The penalty is life. Naturally, accommodations will have to be made since you can't be stored in a regular human dungeon. But yes. That's the most likely outcome."

Kalana, overwhelmed by what she was hearing, couldn't help herself from blurting you, "You can't! Mom, you can't do that."

Her mother glared at her. "You're the one who insisted we bring her to justice, daughter."

"Okay, but…but now I don't know anymore. I feel bad. Isn't there some way you can show her mercy?"

"Actually, yes," her mother said.

Kalana wondered if she was being played, because the way her and Alex were replying to things that were said—it was like she and Anelia were both being led down a track of sorts. They probably were.

Her mother placed her hand on top of Denisoa's hand. "Sweetheart, if you can convince your partner to cooperate, I would personally sentence her myself. She would be sentenced to manual labor—doing what she was already doing on her off-time."

"What she was already doing?" Kalana asked.

Her mother nodded. "From the information we gathered, and from Denisoa's testimony with us earlier, it seems Anelia has been spending most of her free time helping to rebuild Den of Ziragoth. That is good, useful work. Moral work. I'd like her to continue it, officially. The townspeople love her, and she is welcome there. It is in the best interest of the town as well as the Whispery Woods region to have Anelia serve out her sentence in such a capacity. But I cannot do that if she will not cooperate."

Kalana leaned over and whispered in her ear. "You should do it."

She looked at Kalana and then she shook her head. "This is why I said you're cute. You realize they're playing both of us, right?"

"Yeah, but does it matter?"

"I guess not," she said with a sigh.

"What's more important to you?" Alex asked. "Denisoa and the boy, or your reputation as a ruthless contract killer?"

"Denisoa and Adim," she replied immediately, causing Denisoa to exhale with a whoosh as though she was fearful the answer might be anything else.

"Please cooperate," the woman begged Anelia. "You've already damaged my heart. Don't break it. All they want is for you to…" her words trailed off, and then both her eyebrows rose. "Your Majesty," she said. "I personally witnessed the Royal Roses calling Anelia over the Comm. Would my testimony help?"

"Actually, yes. It would be of great use to us, and I would very much appreciate it if you'd let us record it. But it, alone, would not be sufficient. We need Anelia as well."

Denisoa turned to look at Anelia once more. "Do you want me to beg you? Is that it? Do you want me to plead with you to choose me and Adim? To choose having a family? Because if you don't do this, Anelia, I…" She began to cry, and Alex handed her a tissue, which she used to wipe her eyes. "If you don't do this, I never want to see you again. I won't visit you in prison. I won't ever talk to you again! Please. If you love me, please."

Anelia lifted her hand and banged it against the table, causing the table to collapse, Kalana to chirp, Denisoa to jump, and Alex and her mother to not even so much as flinch or react in any way. If anything, they looked pleased.

"If I do this," she said, "the Royal Roses will put a contract on me."

"It won't matter," her mother said. "You'll be living in the Whispery Woods. They wouldn't dare."

"But if we leave it, then—"

"You can't leave. You're imprisoned. Without shackles, of course. But I mean that. You will live your life here. You are free to travel to any corner of this region, but you can never step outside of it, or you will be hunted down aggressively. Luckily for you, Whispery Woods is very large, and so your cell will be enormous."

"I don't get it, though," Kalana said. "Why does it matter if she leaves? Is it just for the sake of punishment?"

"No," Alex answered. "It's to make sure she doesn't run off and go back to bounty hunting. It's in everyone's best interest if Anelia doesn't return to that profession. Let's not forget, she almost killed Zach once."

"Wait, what?" Kalana asked, looking at her. "I thought you told me you saved his life."

"I did both," she admitted. "The first time I met him, I tried to kill him. The second time, I saved his life."

Kalana laughed of all things. "He's been through so much that umm, I don't even think there's room for me to get angry over that. It sounds like it worked out okay, so I'm not upset. But I agree with my mom and Alex. You shouldn't leave Whispery Woods."

Anelia gritted her teeth a moment as though deep in an angry form of thought. Finally, she said, "I guess with the money I've earned, I can still eventually buy a property in the upscale town of—"

"Oh, no, that money is gone," her mother said, to which Anelia's eyes widened.

"What?"

"It's going to be used as restitution for the victims' families. Did you seriously think you would be permitted to keep gold that you earned through assassination?"

Now, Anelia raised her hand as if to bang it again against the table, but then she dropped it as if remembering it was already destroyed. "I need that money. I need it for Denisoa and Adim."

"Why? Does she not already have a beautiful home in Den of Ziragoth?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Is she unhappy there? Are you unhappy there?"

"No, Queen Vayra, but—"

"So, what is the issue here?"

"I don't know either," Denisoa said. "I've tried telling her over and over I don't even want to move. I'm happy where I am. I only want her. She doesn't listen."

"Yes, well, now she has no choice." Fylwen stood up from her chair. "You're going to tell us everything, and then you're going to live in Den of Ziragoth with your lovely girlfriend, and you will refrain from shooting anyone else. You will summon Bank and Storage, empty it in front of an Elvish officer, and the weapons and armor we've seized from you will not be returned. That is what happens now. That, or you spend your life in a dungeon. Your choice."

"You win," Anelia said, her shoulders slumping. "You win."

"Yes. I do."

Kalana thanked her mother. Then Denisoa thanked her as well, practically kneeling on the floor in the process and going way overboard. "My son's going to tell everyone back home that he met the queen and the princess," she said. "They're never going to hear the end of it."

Fylwen smiled at her. "I'm sure I'll get to meet him once more before you return. Now, I'm sorry to rush out of here, but I've a million things to do today. And as for you," she said, speaking to Anelia. "You should worship the ground this human woman walks on. She saved your life and your future. And do apologize to my daughter as well. You've no idea what you put her through in having to subdue you. She will be distraught for weeks over this."

"No, it's okay," Kalana said.

"It's not," Denisoa agreed. "I'm so sorry for what my Anelia did. She is a proud fool. I just…" She started to tear up. "I'm just so happy she's still alive."

Kalana shook the woman's hand. Then she left Alex to record Anelia's testimony. Walking down the hall with her mother, she said, "All that work to get a confession we can never use, huh?"

"Of course we're going to use it."

Kalana stopped, and her mother stopped beside her. "Wait, what? I thought Alex said we're just gonna use it to strongarm him into backing off."

"And bury the evidence? Kalana, that is a human thing to do. We do not behave that way. No, the public will know what he has done. Should it be any other way?"

"Well, no," Kalana said—and she meant it, too. "But Alex thinks we're just gonna use it to scare him."

"The young man can think what he wants. We have a duty to be honest with the public. The humans on this planet have spent their entire lives being lied to by other humans. They will learn that the Elves do not operate in shadow. Vim Alazar illegally hired a bounty hunter to murder humans in a safe zone. We cannot hide this. If we do, we are as bad as they are. We are done with lies."

Kalana knew Alex would be mad, but she just couldn't disagree. "You're right."

Vim was in big trouble.

*******

"Holy shit, I can't take it anymore," Rian said.

It was only day 2 of their excursion, and already, the monotony was starting to get to people—Zach included. He finally understood why Donovan was so insistent on keeping enough free space between them all. He was getting sick and tired of being in the confines of this hallway, where nothing ever changed.

"Here we go again," Lienne moaned.

Having only just eaten a quick lunch, Zach resumed the jog with the others. To his left was Inn Room 465689, and to his right was 465690. Those were…pretty big numbers. And they just kept getting bigger and bigger. But everything else stayed exactly the same, including the floral pattern on the carpeted flooring, the polished, bulbous handles of every door—even the occasional blink of keycard readers. It was always just more of the same.

"Kiddo, you want a bottle of water?" Donovan called to him.

"I'm all right," Zach called back.

The adventurers had completely gotten over his furious warning to them yesterday, chalking it up to being an emotional moment caused by fear for Jimmy's life and a stalwart defense of Tyson. But it was actually much more than that, too. Because they weren't just in some typical form of denial. It was more than simply a refusal to accept that Zach was no longer a true member of their community—at least not in the way he was before. No, they had unintentionally been led into a complete misunderstanding, one that had given just about every single person here the wrong idea. Even Olivir and Kolona.

At first, things had been frosty between Zach and the others. For about half a day, they had stopped regarding him as one of their own, and there had been a strange, surreal, and very sad feeling that couldn't be ignored.

But then two things had happened back-to-back, and everything sort of reverted.

First, Rian had tripped over his own foot, and Zach, jogging behind him, had subsequently tripped over Rian. This had caused the two of them to go rolling into Rono and Dirvin, who reacted with anger and hostility. Somehow, this led to a very brief, two-on-two fistfight, which Donovan and Zephyr had to break up. Yet, inexplicably, it was that very fistfight that had caused the other adventurers to react like this was all just business as usual. And a lot of it had to do with the argument that followed.

"There the boys go again," Zephyr had remarked, laughing.

"Seriously?" Donovan had asked. "Zach's back at it with those two? Again?"

"Rono and Dirvin start it!" Fluffles had yelled. "Fluffles witness everything."

"Not true," Dirvin said. "Zach and the fat boy did some kind of weird rolling attack on us."

"We tripped, you moron," Rian retorted. "Also, we won that fight. You got your asses kicked."

"Bullshit. I clocked Zach so hard I worried I might kill him."

"I didn't even feel it," Zach said. "And if you want to go for round two, me and Rian ready."

"That's right," Rian said, nodding.

This led to Zach, Rian, Rono, Dirvin, and Fluffles all yelling at one another in the hallway while Donovan and Zephyr had to physically come in and break them up. But it was the familiarity of this kind of silly adventurer-on-adventurer feud…the feeling of sameness that caused the tension between Zach and the others to lessen. Before long, everyone was laughing and chatting about the incident. It definitely made things feel like they did before the ordeal with Jimmy and Tyson.

But really, it was what happened right afterwards that changed things. It was what happened next that had caused something almost akin to a reset.

Yesterday, just before they set up their sleeping bags and about an hour after the hallway fight, something happened right as everyone seemed to be quieting down for some rest. It was at this point that Tyson Revel had stood up, cleared his throat, and yelled for everyone's attention. And when he did, he said something so incredible yet puzzling that, at the time, Zach had wondered—and honestly, still wondered—if Tyson even understood the ramifications of what he had done. It was something so unexpected that it had managed to completely change the dynamic between himself, Zach, and everyone else.

"Adventurers," Tyson had said aloud, causing them all to look—and glare—at him. Initially, they had looked at him as though offended by the fact he even had the audacity to speak to them. But that was only until he actually started speaking.

"I just want to say that you are all right about me," he'd begun. "Everything you said about me is true, and I cannot deny a single word of it. I am a piece of shit. Because I was raised to be: by the political guilds, which are the biggest pieces of shit of all. But what so many of you fail to understand is that all I've ever wanted in my life was to party and have sex. Just like all of you!"

"What's that now?" Zach vividly recalled Donovan muttering.

"I'm not even really in command of my guild," Tyson continued. "My rank is fake. I'm just a puppet my uncle uses so he can blame me for his own mistakes. But I hate politics. Truly! And right now, with my father dead, I am the first-in-command of the People of Virtue. But I don't want to be. I never wanted to be. So here in this hallway, you are all going to be the first to hear what will soon become public all across the world. Effective immediately, I announce my resignation from the People of Virtue. This is no joke. You are all the first to hear this. I, Tyson Revel, forfeit all my titles and estates, and I am, from this day forward, exclusively an adventurer. I burn all ties with the political guilds, now and forever. And I swear an oath to the Gods that I mean every word of this with sincerity and honesty. I am an adventurer and nothing more."

Upon hearing this, there had been several long seconds of shock, followed by a sudden roar of approval so loud it had caused the hallway to shake. The adventurers had erupted with such loudness that Zach, who listened to all of this while stunned, wouldn't be surprised if the adventurers way back on the first floor of Angelica's managed to hear it.

Miraculously, just like that, Tyson became welcome. That was all it had taken. Whatever hatred or malice they had towards the man, it evaporated like water droplets under a blazing sun. He'd even held up a metal pin containing his family crest and then crushed it between his fingers. But that was only the start of the weirdness. Things became even crazier.

The next morning, which was earlier today, as Zach had woken up, he had been completely dumbfounded to see Zephyr standing across from Tyson and teaching him the very basics of how to use a sword. The clang of metal on metal resounded in the hallway as Zephyr had patiently and carefully instructed Tyson on the most basic fundamentals while Donovan had observed and offered input.

"You've got a lot of work to do, but you're going to go far with that passive," Zephyr had said to Tyson, who'd nodded. "But you really do have your work cut out for you. And you have to be willing to work hard."

"I will!" he'd shouted. "I swear it!"

And it was here the misunderstanding began to really spread. This was the point where everyone, Jimmy included, had gotten the wrong idea about Zach. And Zach knew that, someday, it was only going to make everything harder and more upsetting for everyone involved.

"It's no wonder the kiddo fought so hard for this guy," Donovan had said. "That fuckin' passive. I can't even believe it. It's amazing."

"I was so worried, too," Maric had said. "I thought Zach had just, I don't know, lost his way, or maybe Alex had corrupted him. But no. He saw something in Tyson we all missed, and he was willing to do anything to make sure we saw it, too."

"He scared me," Alixa had added. "I thought that was rage in him. But it was just passion."

"Exactly," Zephyr agreed. "And you know what else? I'd have acted the same way, too, if I found a political guild member like Tyson and saw in him what Zach and Jimmy saw."

"My passive is really that good?" Tyson had asked.

"Gods, you have no idea," Donovan had replied. "It's the best I've ever seen. No wonder Jimmy and Zach were fighting so hard in your defense. Of course…" He'd grunted. "They could have just been honest with us. Zach could've just told us privately in advance that he was trying to lead you away from the political guilds and needed you to feel welcome."

Tyson, who clearly had no idea that what they were saying was incorrect, had nodded at them. "Yes, in fact, all he's talked about since my uncle signed me over to him was getting me more involved in dungeons. I suppose he knew that deep down all I wanted was to be free. He was just waiting for me to burst out of my shell."

"You don't think he's serious about that whole Royal Roses thing, do you?" Zephyr asked him.

"Of course not," Tyson said. Though he spoke genuinely, he, like the others, had the complete wrong idea. "Zach doesn't seem to care much for the political guilds either. I believe he was simply angry. He told me I have great potential. He'd asked you several times to back off, and when you didn't, he said whatever he felt he had to say."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," Jimmy had said, nodding along to each of Tyson's words. He was also just as clueless as Tyson regarding Zach's motivations, but also like Tyson, it was for understandable reasons. "I wasn't really lucid when this was happening, but based on everything ya'll are saying, it sounds like Zach just got caught up in emotion. To be honest, I'm the one who convinced Zach to take Tyson in. He didn't want nothing to do with it at first, but when I made Tyson show him his passive, that's when Zach decided to get him involved with all of you. And I guess if you guys were being dicks about it, he must've snapped."

"Well, he should've told us," Donovan had said. "The kiddo caused a huge stir. Both of you should've said something. What's your excuse, Jimmy?"

Jimmy had laughed. "I don't know, man. I wasn't in the right state of mind. If my head had been clear, I would've said something before it escalated to that point. But let me just say this right now. Zach don't give a fuck about the political guilds. All he ever does is bitch about them."

Once again, Jimmy was saying things that were true, but with conclusions that were totally false. And as Zach had pretended to be asleep, it had actually become painful to him, because now he knew a "clean break" from the adventuring community would be that much more difficult. This was especially true as he witnessed Donovan putting his arm around Tyson's back.

"We're gonna get you into fighting shape, don't you worry. With that passive…I'm telling ya, I've never seen anything like it."

"It's pretty sweet, right?" Jimmy had asked. "I bet we can basically take down any raid boss as long as he gets enough stacks."

This had then led to a bunch of excited conversations and hypotheticals as dozens of adventures began thinking up or even revisiting scenarios in which Tyson's passive would be useful.

"Can you imagine if we'd had him around for the Ziragoth raid?" Zephyr had asked. "We could've had him fight one of the Ziragoth adds until he got enough stacks, then sent him after the dragon."

"Good thinking, but I'd modify that a bit," Jimmy said.

"How so?"

"Well, what you'd need to do is line the adds up, right? Because remember, the dude only gets twenty seconds before the shit resets, and he—"

"Fifteen seconds," Zephyr corrected.

"Sorry, what?"

"Fifteen seconds, Jimmy. Not twenty. His stacks reset in fifteen seconds after not hitting anything."

"I thought it was twenty."

"Tyson, pull up the ability." There had been a pause. "See? I was right." This caused the adventurers to taunt Jimmy for being wrong. "Did somebody slip you a drink when we weren't looking?" The adventurers had all shared a laugh at the quip.

"Yeah, yeah," Jimmy had said. "My point is, eventually, in your hypothetical, you forget he's gonna start two- or three-shotting the Ziragoth adds, and it's gonna happen before he's got enough to take on the dragon. So uh, you need to make sure there's a chain of them so he can get enough stacks but also still get to the dragon with enough time left to hit it. Otherwise, he'd build up this huge number of stacks and then lose them right away, which would just turn out to be a waste of time."

"Right," Donovan had said. "Zeph, he's right about that. That's what we would've had to do." With that, he'd looked at Tyson, and he gave the man a pat on the back, which made him croak. "You seriously need to learn how to fight, though. That's your biggest problem right now. You're weak without your stacks, but it's made worse 'cause you don't know how to fight well enough to gain them without getting yourself killed. We need to teach you how to be strong: even when you're weak."

"But I've been weak my entire life, Sir Donovan," he'd said. "I worry there's nothing that can ever change that."

"Oh, we'll change that all right," Donovan had said with a laugh. "And if you ever call me Sir Donovan again, I'm putting you through one of these doors."

"I apologize!"

"And if you ever say the words 'I apologize' again, I'm putting you through two doors."

Zach, who had still been pretending to be asleep while eavesdropping, had begun to wonder: had whatever Tyson seen on his phone two days influenced his decision to do this? Quite clearly, he'd wanted this all along and had only been brave enough to declare it now. But why? What changed? Or did it even matter at all? To be honest, if Tyson could only get over his extreme cowardice, he actually did mesh better with adventurers than he did with his own kin. Unfortunately, Zach, who now felt more like Mr. Oren, realized he couldn't allow Tyson to sever his connection to his guild. Because for the sake of uniting all of Galterra around defeating the World Eater, Tyson's position would be important.

So many uncomfortable conversations are in my future, he thought.

"My uncle will kill me when he finds out what I've done," Tyson had said. "That's not a turn of phrase, either. He will kill me."

"Nah he won't," Donovan had said. "If you're committed to the life of adventuring, that prick can't touch you. We won't let him. I'll make sure you'll never have to see his face again for the rest of your life if you don't want to."

"Believe me, I don't want to. The only thing I've ever wanted was to be anyone other than myself."

"Well out here, in the adventuring world, you can be anybody you want to be."

"Is it okay if I wish to never get involved in a single political guild event ever again?" he'd asked. "I don't even want to attend the commemorative balls."

Donovan had actually snorted and looked like he was going to fall over. "Not only is that okay, it's what we demand. If only Zach could share your attitude!"

"Oh, Sir Calador definitely does," Tyson had said wrongly and confidently. But then he said something that was true, which made his wrong claim seem correct. "Sir Calador also wants to be free. I've personally heard him despair over the way Lord Oren pushes him to do things he doesn't wish to do. He is in the same position I am: an adventurer pressured into things he doesn't wish to be a part of."

This, naturally, had resulted in a slew of trash talk against Mr. Oren, who had become the political guild member the adventurers hated above all others. Especially after he had slit Donovan's throat. That had really solidified him as the "worst of the worst" in their eyes. Honestly, there was nothing in the world that could repair his relationship with them now. They hated him so fiercely that it actually made Zach sad and feel regret on his behalf. Mr. Oren was now to the adventurers what Peter IV was to the political guilds.

How long until I'm looked at that way? Zach wondered.

The conversation had continued on for some time, but the emerging picture had become crystal clear: because of Tyson's antics, the adventurers had now had the completely wrong idea about Zach and where he stood. Yesterday, Zach was a traitor to the adventurers who had threatened their lives in order to protect an outsider from the political guilds. Today, Zach was an adventurer who had found a wayward fellow adventurer and had only been protecting him from the harshness of the others. Not only was this easy to believe, but it was made easier by the fact that it was what everyone wanted to believe. But Zach knew it wouldn't stay this way—it couldn't stay this way. Be it a month from now or even a year, the time would eventually come where they would have to confront the truth that Zach was no longer a member of their community. The world just didn't allow for it. He just couldn't be what they wanted him to be. He couldn't turn his back on the world in the way that they did. Their survival depended on staying out of political guild affairs. But the world's survival depended on Zach's involvement. That was the way of it.

But...for now, at least, things could still be fun. Though it would come at a heavy cost later.

And it certainly wouldn't last forever.