Chapter 33: The tea has cooled.

The road back felt far longer than the journey there.

After leaving the blood-soaked Sealing Chamber, the ancient ruins sank once more into absolute, deathly silence.

Only the heavy thud of Hill’s boots against the stone slabs echoed monotonously through the deep, hollow space.

“Hah… hah…”

Hill’s breathing came rough and labored.

Not because the girl on her back was heavy.

In fact, Phyllis felt as light as a handful of cotton.

She lay softly draped across Hill’s back, rising and falling gently with each step.

The true weight pressing down on Hill was mental exhaustion.

The golden chain of light still bound their hands.

It required the caster’s active release to break—and in Phyllis’s current state, she clearly lacked even the strength to lift her staff.

“Hill…”

The person on her back stirred faintly, seeming to sense Hill’s uneven breaths.

Phyllis lifted her face from the crook of Hill’s neck; her voice was so weak it hurt to hear.

“…Put me down. I can… walk by myself.”

“Don’t move around.”

Hill not only refused, she adjusted her grip backward, hoisting Phyllis more securely onto her back.

“With your mana overdrawn like that, you’d faint after two steps. Just stay put.”

“But… Hill must be tired too.”

Phyllis’s arms looped around Hill’s neck; her fingertips gently brushed the sweat on Hill’s cheek.

“You’re sweating so much… all because of protecting me…”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

Hill kept her eyes forward; though her expression was hidden, the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.

“Partners help each other. That’s how it’s supposed to be. Besides… that final flash of light you cast was what saved us.”

Phyllis did not argue further.

She obediently pressed her face back against Hill’s back.

Through the cool leather armor, she could clearly hear Hill’s strong, steady heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump…

What a beautiful rhythm.

A heartbeat that belonged only to her now.

The one who might have taken this heartbeat away had been left behind in the cold, dark depths.

Now, this heartbeat was entirely hers.

Phyllis closed her eyes, concealing the satisfied gleam of triumph in their depths.

Her legs were not truly so weak; though her mana was depleted, she could still have walked.

But she reveled in this forced dependence on Hill.

Physical burden would quietly transform in Hill’s subconscious into the sense of responsibility: “Phyllis cannot leave me.”

“Hill.”

“Mm?”

“If…”

Phyllis’s voice drifted softly in the empty corridor.

“If we couldn’t make it out… if we died here together… would Hill be afraid?”

Hill stopped walking.

Ahead lay the bizarre crystal corridor once more.

In the faint light, the shattered mirror surfaces still reflected twisted shadows.

“…No.”

Hill was silent for a moment before answering seriously.

“A warrior’s fate is to die on the battlefield. And besides… I’m not alone.”

“Not alone…”

Phyllis repeated the words; her lips brushed lightly against the back of Hill’s ear.

“Yes. If I’m with Hill… whether we live or become ghosts in this place, I’d still feel very happy.”

Hill felt her ears grow hot.

Those words were too heavy… and far too sweet.

For someone who had never been in love across two lifetimes, such a direct strike was overwhelmingly powerful.

“Don’t say ominous things like that.”

Hill quickened her pace, trying to hide her embarrassment.

“We survived, didn’t we? We’re going home. We’ll eat a huge meal and leave this damned swamp behind.”

“Mm.”

Phyllis agreed obediently.

From Hill’s back, she turned her head for one last glance at the profound darkness behind them.

Goodbye, Mr. Marius.

The feng shui here is excellent—perfect for the grave of a thief who tried to steal a deity.

…

When they stepped out through the ruin’s main gate, much of the outside fog had already dissipated.

The sky glowed with a strange purplish-red; the sun was sinking.

“Hey…!! Captain!!!”

A familiar shout rang out from the distance.

Hill snapped her head up.

Near a nearby mud pool, two bedraggled figures were waving frantically.

Elisa’s armor was caked in mud; her helmet was missing.

Nia looked even worse—like a drowned cat, frantically shaking water from her fur.

“Elisa! Nia!!”

Hill’s nose stung; overwhelming joy flooded her chest.

Carrying Phyllis, she hurried toward them.

“You’re alive! Thank goodness! Really, thank goodness!”

If her hands weren’t occupied, Hill would have given them both crushing hugs.

“Of course! A knight’s armor has buoyancy enchantments!”

Elisa laughed heartily and thumped her chest, though her eyes were red-rimmed.

“And below us was an underground river. It carried us to a downstream shallows.”

“Nia thought she was gonna die, nyaa… The water was so cold… The fish were so mean…”

Nia shivered and complained, but the moment she saw Hill, she tried to leap over for comfort.

She froze mid-jump.

Because she saw the person on Hill’s back.

Phyllis peeked over Hill’s shoulder.

Her face was pale; her gaze looked exhausted.

But when her eyes met Nia’s and Elisa’s, those azure pupils narrowed—just for an instant.

Nia’s animal instincts screamed.

That look was dangerous.

It seemed to say…

Tch. What tough luck.

“Thank goodness… everyone is safe…”

Phyllis instantly replaced it with an expression of relieved gentleness; her voice was weak but tender.

“I was so worried… If something had happened to you two, Hill would have been heartbroken…”

“Miss Phyllis! Are you injured?”

Elisa asked with concern.

“Just mana exhaustion.”

Hill explained, her expression dimming slightly.

“But… Mr. Marius…”

The air froze.

Everyone looked toward the empty doorway behind Hill and Phyllis.

“The scholar… didn’t make it out?”

Elisa’s smile stiffened.

“We encountered the guardian… He did his best.”

Hill bowed her head.

“He covered our escape.”

A long silence followed.

“…It’s not the captain’s fault.”

Elisa stepped forward and patted Hill’s arm, voice heavy.

“This is adventuring. A client’s death means mission failure, but as long as we’re alive, we can bring back his belongings and report what happened.”

“Yeah, nyaa… Surviving a place like that is already lucky.”

Nia added quietly.

No one doubted it.

In labyrinths full of surprises, death was commonplace.

Even if that death had come from a meticulously orchestrated “unfortunate rescue.”

…

On the return carriage.

The mood was subdued.

Because Nia and Elisa were both chilled to the bone, Phyllis made an exception and allowed them to squeeze into the spacious, luxurious carriage interior to warm up.

But the seating arrangement had changed.

The best window-side single seat—the one Marius had occupied—was now empty.

On the small table still sat the half-finished cup of red tea he had never drunk.

The tea had gone completely cold; an unpleasant film of residue floated on the surface.

Hill sat opposite, staring at the empty cup; her emotions were complicated.

“Hill, don’t look.”

Phyllis—still seated beside her—reached out and picked up the cup.

“Anything that’s gone cold should just be poured away.”

She opened the window and casually tossed the cold tea out into the desolate wilderness.

The reddish-brown liquid scattered in the wind, gone in an instant.

Then Phyllis closed the window and drew the curtains tightly, shutting out the bleak scenery outside.

The carriage’s magical lamps glowed to life; warm amber light once again filled the small space.

“Everyone must be cold and hungry, right?”

From her seemingly bottomless spatial bag, Phyllis produced pre-prepared snacks and clean towels.

Though her movements were still somewhat sluggish, she took care of everyone.

“Here, Elisa—some jerky. Nia—this fish is for you.”

“Hill…”

She took out a warm towel and gently wiped away the remaining sweat—or perhaps monster blood splatter—from Hill’s face.

“You must be exhausted. When we get home, sleep well, okay?”

Phyllis’s fingertips brushed the corner of Hill’s eye, where faint fatigue lingered.

“Mm.”

Hill allowed herself to be fussed over, leaning back against the soft seat.

The carriage was warm.

Though one person was missing, it didn’t seem like anything truly important had been lost.

As long as everyone was here—as long as Phyllis was by her side.

“By the way…”

Elisa asked while chewing jerky.

“Even though the mission failed, won’t the penalty fee be huge? The money we earned…”

“No need to worry.”

Phyllis spoke calmly, handing Hill a fresh cup of hot tea.

“When Mr. Marius signed the contract, there was a special clause: in case of death due to force majeure, the surviving members are exempt from liability and retain 50% of the reward as compensation.”

“Really?!”

Elisa’s and Nia’s eyes widened.

“That’s fifty gold coins!”

“Yes.”

Phyllis smiled; her gaze was calm as still water.

“So don’t think too much about it.”

Phyllis leaned against Hill.

“Sleep, Hill.”

She whispered softly into Hill’s ear.

“I’ll wake you when we’re home.”

Hill’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

In the cradle-like rocking of the carriage, under the influence of the possibly “slightly enhanced” hot tea, she slipped once more into sleep.

Phyllis stared fixedly at her sleeping face.

In this world, only the things you want to understand need to exist.

All the complicated, dangerous truths that might take you away from me…

Just like that cold tea—pour them away.

The carriage rolled over gravel, heading toward the brightly lit city of Ordis.

Night fell.

In that moment, the door of the cage was silently, permanently welded shut.