The tension between Goblin Slayer and Xavniik remained thick, despite the silence that settled after their last exchange. The air seemed to pulse with unspoken words, the weight of High Elf Archer's breakdown still lingering heavily over them.

Xavniik, ever composed, leaned back in his chair and, after a moment, glanced at the gray-haired teen with a subtle raise of his eyebrow. "So," he began, his tone casual, "what are your coin reserves looking like?"

Goblin Slayer, still visibly shaken, took a moment to gather his thoughts. His voice was quieter than usual, strained, but steady enough. "I… I c-cleared out a pryramid… Pyramid of Nyusyree… W-With my second in command. Took what was valuable… And… We also raided the Muhati Marauders' camp."

The half-nodded nodded slowly, but his gaze remained intent— as if he were waiting for something more.

Goblin Slayer paused, his mind briefly replaying the battle, the intense heat of the desert, and the blood-stained sand. "We also killed a Blackwatch Executive… A dark-elf, who went by the name "Suliven"."

That name seemed to stir something in Xavniik. His expression shifted, one of visible surprise, but it quickly morphed into something more amused. His eyes lit up, and a dry chuckle escaped his lips. "Ah, "Moon Lord"…" he murmured, leaning forward slightly. "That's quite the claim, kid."

Goblin Slayer stiffened slightly, unsure whether he was being doubted. "I… I understand, but… What I say is true."

The half-elf raised a hand in a gesture of calm, his lips curling into a half-smirk. "No doubt it is. But still… You're telling me you killed Suliven? The same Suliven who wiped out entire platoons of soldiers sent to raid that fucking camp? Do you have any idea how many times the Royal Army has tried to take him down? And every time, Suliven came out on top— leaving them in scattered pieces!"

Goblin Slayer remained silent, though the tension in his posture spoke volumes.

Xavniik tapped a finger against the desk, lost for a moment in his memories. "That's another thing you oughta know— about the Royal Army. You see kid, they're… Reactionary, not proactive. Always forcing the solution when they have to, instead of preventing them— it's why the Sahara Outpost fell in the first place." He let out a sigh. "It's one of their greatest faults. Anything outside the immediate vicinity of Central County? They don't care about it, until it bites them in the ass."

Goblin Slayer, still processing the weight of Xavniik's words, narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Xavniik leaned back in his chair again, crossing his arms as he studied Goblin Slayer. "Emperor Uthur? The guy who fucked every native over? His interest was never really in all of Zemuria. When he and his fleet sailed from Great Victoria, it wasn't to conquer the enitre continent. Not at first, at least."

Goblin Slayer's brows furrowed beneath his helmet. "Then what was his goal?"

Xavniik's smirk returned, though this time, it was laced with something darker. "Securing the Avalon Sea," he said simply. "The rest of Zemuria? That's was just collateral to him."

Goblin Slayer was silent for a moment, digesting the information. "But why just the Avalon Sea?"

Xavniik let out a humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair as he looked toward the ceiling. "Because that's what empires do. They expand. They control. And they make sure their ships can reach anywhere in the world." His voice grew quieter, and his eyes darkened slightly. "Ol' Uthur would have been content with just building harbors along the shores of the Avalon Sea… But that was until the natives of Zemuria made their first fatal mistake: they came to the empire in peace."

Goblin Slayer tilted his head slightly. "What do you mean?"

Xavniik's smile turned sad, and his gaze seemed to drift off to some distant memory. "People back then thought they could form an alliance with the Pendragon Empire. Thought they could build something that would benefit everyone. So, the natives shared knowledge of the land, gave them insight into the resources, the people…" He paused, the sadness deepening in his voice as he gave a soft, bitter laugh. "Including my mother— that's how I got born into his life in the first place."

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Goblin Slayer sat still, his eyes fixed on Xavniik, watching the half-elf laugh softly to himself, a laugh that held no humor.

The air between them still hung heavy after the earlier exchange, but the teenager, still collecting himself, steered the conversation away from the weight of their previous talk. He tilted his head slightly and asked, "Why did you mother want to help the Royal Army?"

Goblin Slayer's words caught in his throat. The question was blunt, almost cold, but it had been lurking beneath the surface the entire time. Xavniik shrugged, his expression oddly calm.

"Like every other hopeful fool back then, she saw the Royal Army with their fancy guns and spell-slinging knights as potential allies. They all thought they'd help fight off the bad shit already plaguing the continent."

Goblin Slayer, eyes narrowing, asked, "Did the Royal Army help?"

Xavniik let out a bitter, half-hearted chuckle. "They helped themselves," he muttered, before waving a dismissive hand. "But we're getting off track." He leaned forward, more focused now. "Your funding— do you even know exactly what you're working with?"

Goblin Slayer paused, then nodded. "I've got an experienced business owner who's offered to be my appeaser. They're going to help me establish multiple branches across the frontier."

Xavniik nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds like you're on your way to success then," he said, though his voice carried a subtle edge. "But what about the manpower to make that happen? Visions, no matter how innovative they might be, are all useless as shit, if you don't have the means to execute them."

Goblin Slayer thought for a moment. "I've got the entire population of Delrivkat to help. Logistics, scouting, medical care, architecture, general labor. Everything."

That answer visibly impressed Xavniik. A grin crept onto his face as he turned his head toward the smiling blond woman, Veronica, who sat nearby. Their eyes met briefly, and then the half-elf chuckled before turning back to the teen. "How the hell did you pull that off with Storm Lord preventing anyone from getting near Delrivkat?!"

Goblin Slayer's voice was steady as he answered. "Storm Lord's name is Remi Kasugai. They're the one who got Delrivkat to help me."

Xavniik's eyes bulged, and his jaw practically dropped in disbelief. "Wait… Storm Lord did that?!" He leaned forward in his chair, grinning with astonished amusement. "You're telling me you befriended Storm Lord? The most selfish, psychotic, piece-of-shit, in all of Zemuria?!"

Goblin Slayer frowned slightly, the insult to his friend hitting a nerve, but after a moment of reflection, he realized that what Xavniik had said wasn't entirely untrue. "Yeah… But they're more than just those things; they're my best friend."

Xavniik raised an eyebrow, leaning in with a sly smile. "Your second-in-command— the one you mentioned earlier— was that Storm Lord too!?"

Goblin Slayer hesitated before nodding. "Yes."

Xavniik then threw his hands up excitedly, clapping his palms together with a grin. "Wooo!" He clapped again, pointing finger guns at the confused teenager. "The Empire's REALLY gonna love you when they find that out!"

Goblin Slayer's frown deepened. "Was that supposed to be genuine, or are you being sarcastic?"

Xavniik chuckled at his expense, shaking his head. "Of course, I was being sarcastic! The Empire's been blaming Storm Lord for them being unable to use Delrivkat as a base of operations! All the bad shit that happens to those who can't defend themselves on the Muhati Route? According to the current General of the Royal Army, Storm Lord's to blame— not that's entirely true, though. It's just easier to blame Storm Lord than it is to admit incompetence in the higher chain of command."

Goblin Slayer dwelled on that for a moment before asking, "Is that why the Sahara Outpost fell? Because of Suliven?"

Xavniik scoffed, shaking his head. "Nah. Suliven never targeted the Sahara Outpost. It was too fortified, even for him and his army of marauders and goblins."

The teen's eyes narrowed, as his wandering thoughts drifted to the large metallic dragon. "Then… Could it have been Albion?"

Xavniik nodded lazily. "That's what the reports are saying, yeah."

Goblin Slayer remained silent, processing everything. After a few moments, he asked, "D… Do you think Albion's going to target my guild?"

Xavniik leaned back, his expression growing more serious. "Probably. Especially after you killed one of their executives. But with Storm Lord protecting wherever your base is, they might be able to buy you some time. It won't guarantee anyone's survival, but it'll give you a few extra minutes to make peace with yourselves."

Goblin Slayer frowned again. "Was that supposed to be sarcastic too?"

Xavniik's face flattened. "No. I was being serious."

The room fell into a brief, tense pause before the half-elf smirked— letting out a quiet laugh. "It is what it is…! It's inevitable that you'll have run-ins with Blackwatch, and even the Royal Army, sooner or later." After a beat, Xavniik then raised an eyebrow at Goblin Slayer. "With that being said, I'll ask again. Do you really still think running your own guild during an active war on domestic terrorism is a good idea? All things considered?"

Goblin Slayer tensed up, but after a moment, he nodded. "It… It has to be done— goblins aren't going to stop because of them, and neither will I."

Xavniik nodded too, looking genuinely impressed. "Even if that means you'll be responsible for the deaths of those who serve under you?"

Goblin Slayer paused, the question hitting harder than he expected. He finally spoke, voice firm. "… No one's going to die on my watch. I won't allow it."

Hearing this, Xanviik immediately threw his head back in laughter— the sound echoing through the room. "Holy SHIT! Haha, ah! You know, I thought the same thing when I first became a knight, and I had to start leading poor fuckers to their deaths!" He exclaimed with bitter sweetness behind his voice, the joy slipping from his grin. "Ahhh…! For what it's worth though, I personally hope you achieve that impossible feat— really, I am."

Goblin Slayer's expression didn't falter. "I've faced the impossible nearly my whole life. Keeping my guild members alive will be no different."

For once, Xavniik seemed genuinely proud of him, though he didn't say anything. Instead, he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a stack of blank letters. As he began to write, he spoke casually. "Here's what I'm going to do for you."

Goblin Slayer watched, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "What?"

Xavniik continued writing, his voice calm. "I'm writing you some letters of recommendation to the Adventurers' Guild. They'll provide you with fresh recruits and administrative help. Get things started right."

Goblin Slayer blinked, taken aback. "That would be… Helpful. Thank you."

Xavniik waved it off without looking up. "Sure thing."

The room fell silent again, save for the sound of the half-elf's pen scratching across the paper. After a few moments, he paused, before glancing up. "… What's the name of your guild?"

Goblin Slayer fell silent, the weight of the question sinking in. He thought about what message he wanted to send to the people of the frontier— those not fortunate enough to live within the safety of Central County's walls. His voice, when he finally spoke, was hollow, but resolute. ""United Front"… My guild's name is "United Front"."

Xavniik nodded in approval. "United. That's the way Zemuria needs to be."

Goblin Slayer's mind drifted to what it would be like to finally step foot in his fortress, surrounded by his new allies.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden memory. "Actually… Would you mind writing another letter? A recommendation to a professor. Someone who's smart enough to teach a little girl. A woman professor, specifically."

Xavniik paused, pen hovering over the paper. He raised an eyebrow, then turned to Veronica, who was grinning excitedly at him. He smirked and asked, "Want to do it?"

Veronica's response was immediate. "YES!" She screamed, jumping up and down in excitement, before doing a little victory dance.

And as she celebrated, Xavniik turned back to Goblin Slayer with a grin. "There's your professor, Ashta."

The gray haired teenager looked between the two— stunned by how sudden it all was. "R… Really?"

Xavniik went back to his writing, still grinning. "No one's smarter in all of Zemuria than her. If she'd been born to the right family, she would have been Head of the Mages' University by now."

Goblin Slayer blinked, still processing the whirlwind of information. He sank back into his seat, while quietly muttering, "Thank you…"

The hotel suite was quiet a stark contrast to the unspoken weight hanging in the air. Dwarf Shaman sprawled out in a large papasan chair, with his legs stretched across the cushion, and his exhaustion palpable. His back rested against a pillow, and his eyes were half-closed as he stared at the ceiling. "I… I-I never knew…" His voice trailed off into a whisper, unfinished, before he sighed deeply— dragging his hands down his face. The heavy knowledge of what High Elf Archer had lived through sat with him like an immovable weight.

On the couch nearby, Veronica sat cross-legged— her energy buzzing in contrast to the somber mood. Her flamboyant green coat sprawled around her, complementing the crisp white blouse she wore, buttoned neatly, and black leggings that clung to her legs like second skin. Her apron was discarded, leaving her looking more like an eccentric scholar than a café worker.

With one elbow propped on the armrest, the other holding Goblin Slayer's atlas booklet, her fingers tapping rhythmically against its pages as her eyes flitted over the maps.

Lizard Priest sat beside her, awkwardly tapping his fingers on his knees. He cleared his throat to break the silence. "So… Y-You said earlier that you were part of the Adventurers' Guild in your youth?"

Veronica's eyes brightened as she lowered the booklet slightly— offering him a grin that was wide and mischievous. "Sure was! "Arc Mage", at your service!" She gave an exaggerated flourish with her free hand, laughing softly. "Though, to be honest, I wasn't never one for typical quests. I never cared about rewards. You see, I was in it for the research. I used to tag along with reputable adventurers, followed them into dangerous places, and gathered data." Her raised hand made quick, fluttering motions as she spoke— like she was drawing the adventure in the air.

Lizard Priest tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Research? What kind of research were you after?"

Veronica's grin widened, and she straightened up, clearly thrilled to explain. "Oh, you know… History, culture, the deeper stuff. The stuff that most adventurers don't even notice. Zemuria is a treasure trove of forgotten knowledge— lost civilizations, ancient customs— and I wanted to catalog all of it!"

Lizard Priest nodded thoughtfully. "So, you're still conducting research, I assume?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Veronica's hands moved rapidly now, almost as if she couldn't keep up with her own excitement. "The research never ends! I've been compiling everything I've learned into what I hope will become textbooks someday. You know, spread the knowledge across all four corners of the map! Zemuria's cultures, its forgotten tribes, its magical heritage— there's so much that people need to know!"

Lizard Priest leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "If you're working on textbooks, why are you… Well, working at a coffee shop?"

Veronica chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Ah, Mythical Morning isn't just any coffee shop, my friend." She placed the atlas down on her lap, with one hand gesturing theatrically as if presenting something grand. "It's owned by one of the most influential people in all of Zemuria! It's a hub of power, really. People come in, exchange information, ideas, rumors— it's a network. And trust me, in a world where knowledge is power, being at the center of that web can be a game-changer."

Lizard Priest raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. "You really think working there will get your research out? Why not go directly to a publishing house?"

Veronica's expression soured slightly, with her lips twisting into a sardonic smile. "Oh, I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. But it's not that simple." She flicked her wrist dismissively. "The Empire has a stranglehold on what gets published. Censorship's a big problem. If it doesn't fit their narrative, it doesn't see the light of day."

"Censorship?" Lizard Priest tilted his head. "What exactly is the Empire trying to suppress?"

Veronica snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically as if the answer was obvious. "What ISN'T the Empire trying to suppress?!" She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The Emperor controls the narrative, shapes history as he sees fit. If something challenges that— something inconvenient like the truth— well, it gets buried. Did you know that Arthur II doesn't even live in Zemuria?!"

Lizard Priest blinked. "He doesn't?"

"Nope— never stepped foot on its soil," Veronica said, popping the 'p' with exaggerated emphasis, looking pleased to drop this particular bit of information. "He's all the way in Canterlot, across the Victorian Channel, lounging in luxury with his rich friends while Zemuria rots."

Lizard Priest frowned, the gears in his head turning. "So, if Arthur II is in Canterlot, then who's living in that big castle in the center of Crossbell?"

Veronica laughed, almost as if the question itself were ridiculous. "Ah, that would be his son. Arthur Pendragon III. Or, as he likes to call himself, the "Knight of Diamonds"." Her hands mimicked air quotes as she said the title, her tone laced with mockery.

"The Knight of Diamonds?" Lizard Priest echoed, confusion etched across his face.

"Yep! Can you believe that?" Veronica laughed again, this time more openly. "The rich just love their little titles and names, don't they? Basically had everything handed to him since day one— even joined the Adventurers' Guild for shits and giggles! Starting out with daddy's fancy magic sword and everything he could ever ask for, of course!"

Lizard Priest nodded slowly, with his brow furrowing. "And you think that's why your research hasn't been published? Because of him?"

"Not him specifically, no." Veronica leaned back, crossing her arms. "It's the whole damn system. They control the flow of information. My work doesn't fit the Empire's idea of a nice, clean history, so it's been… Delayed. Let's put it that way."

Lizard Priest tapped his chin thoughtfully, glancing over at Dwarf Shaman, who still sat silently in his chair, his eyes closed, seemingly drifting in and out of the conversation. "It seems like a lot to go through. Why not just move somewhere else, where the Empire doesn't have control?"

Veronica shrugged, her hands rising in a gesture of resignation. "I could. But where would I go? Besides, I'm not one to run away from a challenge. If the Empire doesn't want my research published, it makes me all the more determined to see it happen."

Lizard Priest smiled faintly, impressed by her resolve. "That's admirable. But doesn't it get exhausting?"

Veronica let out a short laugh, and waved a hand dismissively. "Of course it does! But hey, if it were easy, everyone would be doing it, right?" She tilted her head at him, with her eyes narrowing slightly as if she were sizing him up. "What about you, though? You're not just a priest. There has to be more to you than that."

Lizard Priest blinked— momentarily taken aback by the shift in conversation. "Me?"

"Yeah, you!" Veronica leaned in, her curiosity genuine. "What's your story? You've got that… Calm, wise vibe, but there's definitely something going on under the surface. I can tell."

Lizard Priest hesitated for a moment, then smiled softly. "I've spent a long time in service to my people— focusing on promoting balance, enriching wisdom, and spiritual guidance. But… You're not wrong. There's more. I've had to fight to protect my flock— we lizards are targeted by pouches, who wish to sell our tanned hides for the sake of profit…"

"… There's a side to me that has to engage with violence, even though it's not what I prefer," Lizard Priest admitted quietly, while tilting his head down solemnly. "Ironically, the Adventurers' Guild is to blame for the near extermination of dragons in Zemuria. Gone are all our guardians and sages, and in their absence we must strive to preserve our future— as bleak as it may be."

Veronica's eyes lit up with interest. "Ooh, so you're a warrior-priest type! Love that! Fighting for balance and justice with a moral compass."

Lizard Priest chuckled softly. "You could say that. It's not easy, though. Sometimes the lines do get blurry… It's… Difficult to smile at someone, knowing that they'd murder you if you weren't associated with their organization."

Veronica nodded, her hands folding neatly in her lap, unusually calm. "Yeah, I can imagine. The world's not black and white, even if most people want it to be. It's all shades of gray." She smiled, softer this time, and added, "You know, I think we're more alike than we thought."

Lizard Priest raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"We both want to change things. You, through action. Me, through knowledge. But at the core, we're fighting for the same thing— a better world."

Lizard Priest smiled, a quiet understanding passing between them. "Maybe you're right."

Veronica grinned broadly, her usual energy returning as she stood up, stretching her arms dramatically. "Well, in that case, I'll make sure to save you a signed copy of my first textbook!"

Lizard Priest laughed— feeling the tension in the room begin to lift. "I'll hold you to that, friend."

Dwarf Shaman, who had been silent for most of the conversation, groaned softly from his chair. "Aye, can we please get some ale before all this talking makes my head explode…?!"

The closed room was dimly lit— shrouded in a quiet tension that made the air feel heavy. The flickering light from a paper lantern overhead cast soft, wavering shadows across the traditional Tekkadan-style bedroom. The tatami mats underfoot, the sliding paper doors, and the sparse but warm furnishings gave the space a sense of peacefulness— cozy, but unbearably tense. The cool air from the analog air conditioner hummed low— filling the silence that hung thick between them.

Goblin Slayer sat at the edge of the queen-sized bed, while still dressed in his formal clothes, with his back turned to High Elf Archer. She laid under the covers— her back to him as well, and the white blanket clutched tightly in her trembling fingers. Her long ears twitched, betraying the quiet storm of thoughts behind her silence. They were both frozen in place— trapped in the quiet weight of everything unspoken between them.

For what felt like an eternity, neither of them moved, neither spoke. The silence stretched, suffocating. Then, finally, High Elf Archer broke it, her voice soft but cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Y… You don't need to do this."

Her words were quiet, almost resigned, as if she already knew what was coming. But they struck the teen hard. He shifted slightly— not fully turning toward her, but just enough for his head to tilt. His gaze lingered on his own shoulder, with the weight of her words sinking in.

He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat painful— his chest tightening as the memories clawed their way up. He tried to breathe, but the air felt thin, with his heart pounding loud in his ears. His breath came out shaky, and it was enough to catch High Elf Archer's attention.

Slowly, cautiously, she turned around under the covers, her sharp eyes locking onto his stiff back.

"I… I-I've never told anyone this," Goblin Slayer whispered, his voice low, strained. It felt as if the words were dragging themselves out of himaa heavy and reluctant. He stopped, his breath catching again, another tremor running through his chest. He wiped at his eyes with a quick, shaky hand, but it did nothing to stop the tears from welling.

"My father was... He was a priest," he continued, his voice trembling slightly. "And my mother... She was a pharmacist." His words faltered, voice cracking as he fought to steady himself. "I don't remember the city where we lived... I-I just know it was near Crossbell. We were happy, I think— it's… Hard to remember… I don't remember much about them… Before they… D-Died," Goblin Slayer uttered out painfully, with the walls he had erected in his mind beginning to break by the passing second. "I… I was only four when it happened, and Vivi was eight."

The mention of the name made High Elf Archer pause. She watched his back, her heart starting to beat faster. "Vivi?" She asked softly, uncertain. "Who... Who's Vivi?"

Goblin Slayer's breath hitched sharply, and his entire body seemed to stiffen. His hands clenched into fists in his lap, his knuckles turning white as the question hit him like a blow. His breathing became uneven, with his chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. He fought against it, fought to keep himself composed— but the cracks were starting to show.

"V… Vivi..." He whispered, the name spilling from him like a confession— full of pain he could no longer hide. "She was... She was my older sister."

High Elf Archer's eyes widened slightly, the weight of his words sinking into her. She sat up slowly, with the covers rustling around her as her mind raced to piece together the fragments of the story he was unraveling. Her gaze stayed fixed on the back of his head, waiting for him to continue.

Goblin Slayer swallowed again— the lump in his throat impossible to ignore now. His voice dropped even lower, barely a whisper. "Our parents... They died in a house fire. One that..." He trailed off, his breath shaky, his hands trembling. "One that I… That I caused…"

His voice broke, and a bitter, joyless smile tugged at the corners of his lips— a smile filled with the weight of his guilt. "I… I remember playing with the knobs on the gas stove. My parents had just had it installed. It was shiny... sleek. I... I couldn't help myself." His voice cracked, and he let out a bitter laugh that held no humor. "I remember… I remember them telling me not to play with it, but… I did anyway— even waited until everyone was asleep to do it."

A heavy silence followed, his breathing labored as he struggled to push the words out. High Elf Archer said nothing— her chest tightening as she listened, the weight of his pain pressing down on her.

"I… I don't know how it happened, but… S-Something… Something caught fire," Goblin Slayer continued, with his voice hollow, distant. "There was smoke… So, so much smoke…" He stopped to wipe his eyes again, but it didn't help. The tears kept falling. "Vivi... She pulled me out of the house… S-She saved me…"

High Elf Archer felt her throat tighten— her heart breaking for him as he fought to get the words out. "Big sisters..." She whispered, her voice soft, trembling. "Big sisters, always look after their little brothers."

Goblin Slayer let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly, but his expression remained pained, and distant. "After that… We went into foster care," he said, his voice growing more strained, as if each word took more and more effort to say. He paused, the silence stretching uncomfortably long. "The man who fostered us... He... He used to do things to Vivi… Horrible things."

High Elf Archer's breath caught in her throat, with her stomach turning as the realization hit her. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she just watched him— her chest aching.

"He... He hurt her… Hurt her head," Goblin Slayer whispered, his voice breaking as he choked on the words. "And I… I couldn't do anything to save her…" His hands trembled in his lap, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were bone-white.

High Elf Archer swallowed hard— her heart breaking for him. She wanted to reach out, to hold him, but she couldn't move. She could only listen.

"C… C-Child services finally took her claims seriously," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "They locked him up. But Vivi... She was terrified of being hurt again— she didn't want us to be kept in foster care. So she... She paid a man to take us to the frontier— a man with three daughters. She was ten. I was six. She thought we could trust him…"

His voice grew more distant, and more haunted as he spoke. "We ended up in a village called "Riverwood", but… We didn't know how to build a house… We didn't know how to grow food— we were just children…" He trailed off again, his breath shaky as he fought to keep speaking. "So... in exchange for work... And sex... Vivi convinced the man to help us."

The room felt suffocating, with the air thick with the weight of his words. High Elf Archer's heart pounded in her chest— her throat tight with unshed tears. She wanted to stop him, to tell him he didn't have to keep going, but she couldn't. She couldn't do anything but listen.

"She... She became sick— sick in the head," Goblin Slayer whispered, his voice trembling. "I knew that she always resented me for the fire… But after having to give her body again, and again... She… She couldn't bear the pain inside…" His voice cracked— his breathing uneven. "One night, during dinner... She... She snapped. She attacked me— beat me, and screamed how much she hated me… How it was all my fault."

His breath hitched, and he let out another hollow, broken laugh. "S… She wasn't wrong… I was the one to blame."

High Elf Archer's eyes were wide— her heart aching as she watched him crumble. She wanted to reach out, to touch him, but her hand froze halfway, trembling. She let it fall back to her side.

"She… She'd always apologize afterward..." Goblin Slayer's voice broke again, and this time he didn't try to hold back the tears. They fell freely, streaming down his face as he spoke. "She would cry, and cry, and cry… S-She always said she didn't mean it— that what she said wasn't true." His voice trembled, his body shaking. "But I knew she did… I knew she hated me."

His hands rose to cover his face, his body shaking with quiet sobs. High Elf Archer could barely breathe, her own chest tight with the weight of his grief.

"I... I preferred it that way— getting hurt by her was easier than the alternative," the teen whispered— his voice barely audible. "Because when she wasn't hurting me... S… S-She was hurting herself…"

The room fell into a heavy silence, thick with the weight of everything he had said. High Elf Archer sat frozen, her heart shattered, her mind racing to process it all.

"Despite it all… S-She still tried so hard to make me happy," he whispered— his voice raw with emotion. "She'd save up her coins to buy coffee beans, w-whenever a merchant came through… S-She tried— she always tried..." His voice trailed off, the tears flowing freely down his cheeks now.

"And t-then..." He choked on the words— his breath hitching as he forced himself to continue. "And then, when I was eleven... R-Riverwood, it… It was raided by g-goblins…" He paused, his body trembling. "Imp goblins… They... They destroyed everything… D-Defiled it all."

High Elf Archer's breath caught— her heart pounding in her chest as the horror of what was coming settled in.

"She hid me under the floorboards," he whispered— his voice barely audible. "I… I-I watched her... I watched her slit her own throat before they could get to her— s-she didn't even flinch when it happened…. His body shook, and he buried his face in his hands. "And then... T-They tore her apart…! For hours…! I just…! I just watched it all happen— too weak to do anything about it, just like that fucking fire…!"

High Elf Archer's heart shattered as she stared at him, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't speak. She couldn't move.

"S.. She killed herself to escape," he sobbed quietly— his voice raw with pain. "S-She killed herself…! B-Because of me…!"

The words hung in the air— heavy and unbearable.

Before Goblin Slayer could say anything more, High Elf Archer moved without thinking. She threw her arms around him, pulling him close— burying her face in his shoulder. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she held him— her body shaking with quiet sobs.

"I-It wasn't your fault," she whispered, her voice breaking. "N-None of that w-was your fault…!"

Goblin Slayer didn't respond. He just sat there, trembling in her arms— his face buried in his hands, as the weight of everything he had been carrying for so long had finally unraveled.

For a long time, they sat like that, High Elf Archer holding him in the quiet darkness— their shared grief the only sound in the room.

The room was still, their sobs fading into the soft hum of the analog air conditioner. The quiet was thick with shared misery— heavy and inescapable. High Elf Archer's arms stayed wrapped around Goblin Slayer, with her face pressed against his back— feeling the trembling of his body as he cried. It was as though, in that moment, the weight of years of silence, years of bottled pain, had finally broken free.

For what felt like hours, neither of them spoke. High Elf Archer's tears continued to fall, soaking into his shirt as she held him— feeling his pain like a dagger in her own heart.

She had known loss— seen the worst the world had to offer— but that connection between them in that moment was something deeper, more intimate. It wasn't the kind of grief she could fight with arrows or magic. It was a festering wound that had been hidden for too long.

Finally, Goblin Slayer's sobs began to slow— his breathing gradually evening out. He let out a long, shaky breath, and his body sagged, exhausted. The silence that followed felt different— less oppressive, but still thick with emotion.

High Elf Archer, her voice soft and raw, whispered into his shoulder. "I had no idea..." Her words trailed off, lost in the weight of everything he had shared. She didn't know how to make it better— there was no comfort she could offer that would erase the horrors he had lived through. But she wanted him to know he wasn't alone.

Goblin Slayer, his voice still ragged from crying, let out a soft, bitter chuckle. "I… I originally didn't come here to bore you with that," he muttered, his words barely audible. He wiped at his eyes again, but the tears hadn't stopped completely. "I wanted to know that… That you aren't alone— that I can be there for you."

High Elf Archer smiled weakly through her own tears— her fingers tightening slightly around his shoulders. "I think you've done more than that," she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. "It's been so long since that god-awful day; for all this time, I thought that the sands of time, they… They would just smooth it all out— that the pain would go away on it's own…"

They stayed like that for a while longer, neither of them moving, both of them lost in the rawness of the moment. High Elf Archer slowly loosened her grip, pulling back just enough to wipe her eyes. She looked at Goblin Slayer's back, his armor-clad form so familiar, but now, after everything he had revealed, she saw something different. The weight he carried was so much heavier than she had ever realized.

"B-But it never… I-It never did," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Seeing you in the same pain as I've felt, it… It gave me introspection— all I want to do is hold you… To comfort you, to make that pain go away… Our pain, go away…"

Goblin Slayer stayed silent for a moment, his head hanging low, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I was rescued by an old rhea— he told me everyday that I was worthless… That I deserved my fate, and so did Vivi," he explained— his voice barely a whisper. "I… I've been hurt by others my entire life… I wanted to be the one who was hurting others for a change— killing goblins, it… It makes me feel like righting my wrongs— atoning for the hell I made Vivi go through."

"But… It doesn't work, does it?" High Elf Archer said softly, her heart aching for him.

He shook slightly— his breath catching again as the tears continued to fall. "N-No… No, it doesn't," he whispered. "I know it's killing me— all of it is, but… V-Vivi, she's a part of that— she's everything to me…! And if I let go of that pain, then… T-Then I'd have to let go of her…!"

High Elf Archer felt a fresh wave of tears rise in her throat, but she swallowed them down, her hand reaching out to rest gently on his shoulder. "N-No, no more," she whispered. "She loved you; she wouldn't want this for you…! No more holding onto her— not like this…!"

The teen turned his head slightly, his gaze still not meeting hers, but there was a subtle shift in his posture. A quiet, almost imperceptible release of tension, as though the weight of his grief had been lifted just enough for him to breathe.

"I..." He hesitated, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know how…"

"Y-You don't have to know how— not right away," High Elf Archer said softly. "Just... Starting by letting those who care about you in— no more holding it all in… Even if it seems impossible, you just have to move on— you have to let go of her, even if that takes time…"

Another silence settled over them, but this time, it felt less painful, more like a quiet understanding. Slowly, Goblin Slayer raised his hand to wipe away the remaining tears from his face. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"T… Thank you," he said quietly, his voice soft but sincere.

High Elf Archer smiled through her tears, a sad but gentle expression on her face. "You don't need to thank me," she whispered. "Just... Live your life— don't let the little boy who she loved die."

Goblin Slayer didn't respond right away, but there was a small, almost imperceptible nod of agreement. He turned his head slightly— just enough to catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. For the first time in what felt like forever, his expression softened, the hard mask of stoicism slipping just a little.

They sat in silence for a long while after that, the cool air of the room soothing their worn-out bodies, the tension slowly melting away into a quiet peace.

The trauma still lingered, the weight of Goblin Slayer's past still pressing down on them both, but for the first time, there was a sense that it was no longer tearing them apart.

High Elf Archer gently released her hold on him while leaning back against the headboard— wiping the last of her tears away. Her voice, though soft, carried a hint of determination. "So... W-What now?"

The teenager took another deep breath, finally turning his head to look at her, his crimson eyes meeting hers with a tired but genuine gaze. He let out a small, almost embarrassed chuckle. "I was… Once told that misfortune is like a web that entangles everyone— the brave, or foolish alike," the teen reminisced with a cathartic tone in his voice.

"They said that despair is different— that it's the realization that one's struggles were never a contest, but a foregone conclusion," Goblin Slayer relayed, while High Elf Archer raised a bewildered brow at him— her face being a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

"Wow, that's… Quite the cryptic thing to tell someone," she mused with a small chuckle. "W-Where is this even going anyway, hehe?"

Matching her energy by smirking back at her, Goblin Slayer let out a small laugh under his breath. "Heh, haha…! I-I'm getting there," he said playfully in his usual soft spoken voice. "Anyway… They told me that suffering was inevitable, and despite our fates, we continue on," the teen said, his voice dropping ever so slightly, along with the corners of his pale lips.

"They asked me why we persist then… And when I was asked that question, I thought I knew the answer, but… I now know the answer to that existential conundrum," Goblin Slayer admitted, with a strange sense of relief following suit— his smile returning, while his crimson eyes lit up with mischievous amusement. "You see, the answer to that question lies within the Fashion District…!"

A soft smile of glee broke through High Elf Archer's tears— her eyes lighting up just a little. "O-Overpriced clothes?" She teased lightly, her voice still shaky but carrying a bit of warmth.

"They're why we were put here on this Earth," Goblin Slayer replied jokingly— his voice a little stronger now. He glanced toward the window, the fading light of the sunset casting soft orange hues through the blinds.