[Location: Royal Castle - Student Dining Hall]
The bread roll hit the table with a sound like a rock striking wood.
"This," Rika Aizawa said, poking the roll with a spoon, "is a hate crime against carbohydrates."
"It's hardtack, Rika," Itsuki said, adjusting his cracked glasses while meticulously cutting a piece of ham. "It's designed for caloric density and shelf life, not for your delicate palate."
"My palate isn't delicate, Four-Eyes," Rika shot back, though she tore a piece off and ate it anyway. "I just miss convenience stores. I would kill a man for a spicy tuna onigiri right now. Literally. Kill him."
"We just killed a giant snake," Noa mumbled, her mouth full of potato stew. "Isn't that enough killing for one day?"
The cafeteria was warm, bathed in the soft afternoon light streaming through high stained-glass windows. It was a jarring contrast to the damp, blood-soaked darkness they had been in just two hours ago.
Ren sat at the head of the long wooden table, slouching. He felt... light. The [Divine Aura] had faded, leaving him exhausted but strangely clean. His mana channels were humming pleasantly.
"Pass the salt," Ren asked.
"Here," Sayaka slid the shaker over without looking up from her notebook. She was sketching the Basilisk's eye from memory. "The refraction index of the lens was fascinating. If I could replicate that in a crystal..."
"Please don't summon another laser beam today," Riku begged, rubbing his temples. He had dismantling tools spread out on the table next to his soup. "My ears are still ringing from the Goblin Nest."
"Speaking of ears," Rika leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Did you guys see Mei and Yui? They went straight to the baths. I think Mei was crying again."
"She had a rough time," Ren said softly. "We all did."
"But we won," Itsuki agreed. "Statistically improbable. But we won."
Suddenly, the double doors of the dining hall swung open. The chatter in the room died instantly.
Two figures walked in, flanked by Royal Guards.
Prince Valerius walked with a sharp, military precision, his navy uniform crisp and spotless. Beside him drifted Princess Elara, wearing a gown of pale blue silk that seemed to shimmer in the afternoon light.
The students scrambled to stand up, chairs scraping against the floor.
"At ease," Prince Valerius said, his voice cool and level. He adjusted his glasses, scanning the group—specifically nodding at Itsuki and Riku. "Efficiency appears to be a trait of your world. The report has reached us."
"The Howling Caverns are cleared," Princess Elara finished, her violet eyes locking onto Ren immediately. She clasped her hands together, beaming. "You slew the Ancient Basilisk."
"We stabbed it a lot," Rika muttered under her breath.
"That creature has plagued the mining operations for a decade," Valerius stated, ignoring Rika. "By eliminating the Zone Boss, you have destabilized the Dungeon Core. The monster spawn rate will drop to negligible levels. The Kingdom can now reclaim the mithril deposits."
"So... we did good?" Noa asked bluntly.
"You proved your utility," Valerius corrected, though it was the closest thing to a compliment he gave. "The Kingdom acknowledges this success."
"It means we get paid, right?" Noa pressed.
"Noa!" Itsuki hissed.
"It means," Princess Elara stepped forward, her voice soft and full of that overwhelming hope, "that the Kingdom owes you a debt of gratitude. My father wishes to celebrate this victory. Tonight, we hold a banquet."
"A banquet?" Rika's ears perked up.
"A formal gala," Elara smiled. "Music, dancing, and proper cuisine. Not... field rations." She glanced at the hardtack with a polite, apologetic wince. "Tailors have been dispatched to your quarters. Tonight, you shall dress as the Heroes you are."
"A party?" Rika's eyes lit up, the fatigue melting away. "With dresses? And actual pastries?"
"The finest in Altherion," Elara promised. She looked at Ren again. "It will be an honor to see our Savior properly celebrated."
Ren shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you, Princess. But... we just did what we had to do."
"Modesty becomes you," she whispered, her gaze lingering a second too long before Valerius cleared his throat.
"Additionally," the Prince added, checking a pocket watch. "The Guild has dispatched a reclamation team to harvest the resources you secured. The Azure Crystals, the Shadow Hyena Fangs, and the Goblin Iron. You need not worry about logistics. Focus on recovery."
"Understood," Ren bowed his head.
The Royals swept out of the room. Valerius marched; Elara floated. They left behind a trail of expensive perfume and sudden excitement.
"A party!" Rika grabbed Ayaka's arm as the healer walked in with Reiji and Toby. "Ayaka! We have to get ready! I need to scrub this dungeon smell off my skin!"
Reiji limped over to the table, looking pale but clean. He had been to the infirmary for a final check-up. Toby trailed behind him like a loyal puppy, holding a fresh bandage roll.
"What's the commotion?" Reiji asked, sitting down gingerly.
"Party tonight," Ren explained, pushing a bowl of stew toward him. "Eat up, Reiji. You look like a ghost."
"Thanks," Reiji sighed, taking the spoon. "I feel like one."
Ren looked around the table. He counted heads. Daigo, Toru, and Hinata were sleeping. The girls were bathing. Reiji was here.
"Where's Sora?" Ren asked.
The table went quiet. The clinking of spoons stopped.
"He was with you guys at the infirmary check-up, right?" Ren pressed, leaning forward. "Is he okay? Did the ribs set properly?"
Reiji paused, spoon hovering over his soup. He exchanged a nervous look with Toby.
"He's fine," Reiji said slowly. "The ribs are healed. Ayaka did a good job. But... he didn't come back with us."
"Where did he go?"
"He said he had 'business'," Reiji shrugged helplessly. "He said he needed to check on something. He... he seemed distant, Ren. I asked him to come eat with us, but he just waved me off."
"He probably feels awkward," Riku muttered, not looking up from his gear. "Think about it. We're the 'Heroes' getting a Royal Banquet. He's the 'Defect' from the Outer Barracks. He probably thinks he doesn't belong at the high table."
"That's bullshit," Ren frowned, slamming his hand on the table. "He killed the Hobgoblin. He led the distraction. He saved us. He belongs here more than anyone."
"Sit down, Ren," Itsuki said gently. "If you drag him here, it'll just be pity. Let him decompress. He's... different now. He processes things differently."
Ren hesitated. He looked at the empty seat.
"Okay," Ren sat down slowly, his appetite gone. "But I'm saving him a plate. And if he's not back by sunset, I'm finding him."
[Location: The Howling Caverns - Level 3]
Sora wasn't resting. And he definitely wasn't worrying about a party.
He was walking through the aftermath.
The tunnels were swarming with Guild workers—scavengers hired by the Kingdom. They wore heavy leather aprons and gas masks, carrying saws and crates.
ZZZZZT.
A worker was sawing the tusk off the dead Gnoll Warlord. Another group was mining the glowing Azure Crystals from the Spider Cave walls.
"Careful with those fangs!" a foreman yelled. "They're worth ten gold a pop! Don't chip them!"
Sora walked past them. He was wearing a Guild worker's mask he had swiped from a supply cart. Nobody stopped him. They assumed he was just another laborer hauling debris.
He walked past the Basilisk room, where a team of mages was dismantling the massive snake for scales and organs.
He kept going. Deeper.
To the Left Tunnel.
The smell was still there. Rot. Musk. But now it was mixed with the smell of death. The Goblin Nest was silent. The horde had been decimated by the Basilisk.
Sora stepped over goblin corpses. He walked until he reached the breach—the hole the Hobgoblin had plugged. The body had been pulled out, leaving the way open.
He stepped through.
The "Breeding Room" was quiet.
Most of the Guild workers had refused to come in here. They were standing outside, vomiting or arguing.
"I ain't touching that," one man was saying. "That's... that's cursed, man. Burn it. Just burn it all."
Sora walked past them and entered the room.
The white slime was drying up, turning into a flaky crust. The torches had burned low.
But the women were still there.
The cells were still locked. The Guild hadn't figured out how to open the bone mechanisms yet, or maybe they were just too disgusted to try.
Sora walked to the first cage.
The Elf woman was still awake. She was slumped against the bars, her breathing shallow. Her stomach was massive, pulsing with unnatural movement. The "brood" inside was restless.
She looked up as Sora approached.
She didn't recognize him at first with the mask. Sora reached up and pulled it down.
Her eyes widened slightly. She remembered the grey armor. She remembered the boy who had told his friends to leave her.
Sora stood there, gripping the handle of his machete. His knuckles were white.
"I came back," Sora whispered.
The Elf stared at him. She tried to speak, but her throat was dry. She licked her cracked lips.
"Help..." she rasped.
"I can't save you," Sora said, his voice hollow. "The healers say the infestation is systemic. If we try to remove them... the toxins release. You die in agony."
He had overheard the Royal Medics talking outside. They had written these women off as "casualties." They were waiting for permission to euthanize them.
But bureaucracy was slow. And pain was fast.
The Elf looked at her stomach. She looked at the white slime binding her legs.
She looked back at Sora. Her eyes clarified. The madness receded for a second, replaced by a terrible, lucid understanding.
She reached through the bars. Her hand was skeletal, covered in filth. She grabbed Sora's grey sleeve.
"Not... save," she whispered.
She looked at his machete.
"Kill," she pleaded. "Please. Before... they... come out."
Sora froze.
He had killed monsters in the Deadlands. He had killed Goblins. He had killed wolves. But that was survival. That was "him or them."
This wasn't a fight. This was a request.
He looked at the other cages. The human woman. The beastkin girl. They were all looking at him now. Silent. Begging.
They didn't want to go home. They knew there was no going home from this. They just wanted it to end.
Sora closed his eyes. He took a deep, shaky breath. The smell of the room filled his lungs—the smell of a nightmare that the "Heroes" upstairs celebrating with cake would never understand.
"Okay," Sora whispered.
He opened his eyes. They were dark. Empty.
"I'm sorry," he said.
He reached through the bars. He placed his hand gently on the Elf's forehead. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, a single tear cutting through the dirt.
"Thank you," she mouthed.
Sora raised the machete. He didn't hack. He didn't slash. He placed the tip carefully, precisely, against her heart.
"Sleep," Sora said.
SHUNK.
One clean thrust.
The Elf gasped—a soft, releasing sound. Her grip on his sleeve tightened for a second, then relaxed. Her head fell forward. The pulsing in her stomach stopped.
She was gone.
Sora pulled the blade out. It was stained red. Not black goblin blood. Red, human blood.
He moved to the next cage.
And the next.
And the next.
It took him ten minutes. Ten minutes of silence, broken only by the soft sounds of gratitude and the wet slide of steel.
When he walked out of the Breeding Room, he pulled his mask back up.
The Guild workers were still arguing outside.
"Hey! You!" the foreman yelled at Sora. "Did you check the back? Any loot?"
Sora stopped. He looked at his hands. They were trembling, just a little. He clenched them into fists until the shaking stopped.
"No," Sora said, his voice flat and dead. "Nothing in there. Just garbage."
He walked past them, heading for the exit, leaving the dark behind him.
Upstairs, the music was starting. The champagne was pouring. The Heroes were laughing.
Down here, Sora Amano wiped the blood of the innocent off his blade, and walked alone into the shadows.