The Hero’s Welcome and a Secret Whisper

The jubilant celebrations transitioned from the square outside the church to the grand hall on its first floor. Townspeople gathered around Edith, their voices rising in unison as they sang an ancient epic.

This epic recounted the tale of Atwood, a Northern hero who led his valiant subordinates in repelling a beast horde and ultimately slaying the Horned Beast chieftain. At this moment, it served as a fitting tribute to Edith’s selfless courage.

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The deepest fears of the people living in these ancient, shadowed lands always stemmed from the dense forest.

Those pairs of blood-red and deep-yellow eyes haunted their nightmares. No one knew when these brutal monsters would emerge from the woods again to encroach upon human territory. The towering brick walls and polished cannons had always served their initial purpose: to deter the beasts lurking within the deep forest.

Patience, gentleness, thoughtfulness, and kindness were no longer sufficient to describe this young woman. Bravery, too, deserved a prominent place among her virtues. She was the hero who had bravely spearheaded the fight against the beast horde.

In this moment, Edith was Kohl Town’s Atwood.

Amos, the town priest, did not unduly disturb the townsfolk’s high spirits. Although the church should have remained solemn, the Northern frontier towns were often so dreary and joyless that silence had become boring.

He simply stood by the pulpit, quietly observing the joyous scene, his expression as stern and traditional as ever.

Daphne carefully descended the steps, one foot after another, her skirt held delicately. As she heard the ancient epic resonate, grand and melodious, through the church hall from the voices of many townspeople, she couldn’t help but recall memories and feel deeply moved.

When the game first began, the Northlands had already fallen. The initial main quest for all characters born in the Old Continent was to thoroughly investigate the now-ruined Northlands.

This land, scorched by war, was now inhabited only by wandering Beastmen and Undead. After entering the first team dungeon, “Ancient Well Ruins,” new players faced the final boss: Miodix Blackhoof, the “Trampler”—a beast horde lord resurrected by vile necromancy.

Atwood, the former beast-slaying hero, had his battle-axe, Split Horn’s Edge, claimed as a weapon by the Undead Beast Horde Lord. The climactic battle was set to the thrilling, vocalized epic currently being sung.

This epic held countless memories for players: their first team dungeon, their first party wipe due to inexperience, their first piece of dungeon gear. It was the unique experience of an MMO, a surge of unparalleled accomplishment washing over them the moment the boss was finally vanquished.

Daphne stood by the steps, quietly gazing at the golden-haired girl who was surrounded by everyone. All the praise and cheers were for her—a tragic young woman who, cursed and hated, had gained the innate ability to see through the essence of Bloodkin, and was destined to face a fated death because of it.

Yet, after escaping the deep alleys of Lovisa, she had found her own meaning in life.

Daphne still remembered her first encounter with this girl six years ago, when she led the honor guard on a tour through the Ael territories, meeting her on a street in Lovisa.

At that time, Edith was timid and fearful, as if a mere touch might shatter her. Despair and terror filled her small eyes, yet Daphne could discern the lingering hope and desires within the girl’s heart.

‘Surely, something has changed because of her.’

Daphne refused to believe that all her efforts over the years had been futile and wasted. Her sacrifices had yielded results; this world was not always consumed by despair.

A wave of emotion made her want to cry.

But Bertram had never shed tears for such reasons in thirty years, so Daphne held back.

She could cry for any other reason, but never for something like this. This was the path she had chosen, her resolve to save a world teetering on the brink, her determination to mend irretrievable regrets.

No matter how difficult, she would never utter a single complaint.

‘Cherish the present, Daphne,’ she told herself again.

Turning to continue down the steps, she stumbled unaccustomed to her high heels, nearly falling. Fortunately, the handrail was nearby, and Daphne, in a moment of urgency, steadied herself by gripping it.

However, her stumble drew everyone’s attention, for the sound of her high heels was quite loud.

Daphne quickly composed herself, offering a slightly embarrassed smile to the people in the hall. “I’m sorry, I…”

Upon seeing Daphne, Edith, amidst the crowd, felt her azure eyes brighten considerably. She squeezed through the throng, lifted her skirt, and scurried to Daphne, immediately taking her hands.

“Congratulations on your triumphant return, Miss Edith,” Daphne said, maintaining her decorum in front of others.

“It was truly dangerous then; I thought I wouldn’t make it back,” Edith responded, understanding the unspoken message, her tone conveying longing. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Miss Ellenore.”

She opened her arms to Daphne, seemingly hoping for an embrace.

Daphne glanced sideways at everyone’s reactions, noticing that each person seemed to anticipate their relationship deepening. This expectation was akin to a firm belief that the little angel Edith could even soften the merciless, passionless Emerald of the Holy Mary religious domain—a sentiment much like, “Our idol is always the strongest.”

Out of resignation, Daphne had no choice but to accept, leaning in to give Edith a hug.

The faint scent of blood still clung to the girl. Her golden hair felt cool to the touch, but thankfully, her body was warm and soft. Her safety was the greatest news of all.

Seeing this, Pastor Amos announced to the townsfolk, “Chanter Edith has just endured a difficult battle, and now is the time for her to rest. The wounded receiving treatment here also require a quiet environment.”

Since the mayor would host a celebration feast in a few days, no one was in a hurry. After bidding farewell to Edith, they all gradually left the church.

Edith, still embracing Daphne, waved goodbye to everyone. Once most people had departed, she pulled Daphne tightly into her arms again.

“I missed you, my little darling. Say my name,” Edith whispered, deliberately turning her head to the side unseen by others, her warm tongue ambiguously licking Daphne’s sensitive earlobe.

“H-haah~… Sister Edith~…” Daphne, unable to resist the teasing, softened her tone.

The sound of Edith’s fierce attack continued, stealing her breath.

“So adorable. I love you the most.”

“G-guu~...” Someone was still looking their way, forcing Daphne to try and act normal, stifling her voice.

It seemed her secret escape had not been exposed. While enduring Edith’s playful torment, she secretly rejoiced at having dodged a bullet.

To her surprise, Edith then whispered in her ear, “I know you saved me, you know. And while I’m incredibly touched and grateful, my disobedient little darling still needs to be punished.”

“Eh?” Daphne’s mind froze for a moment.

Before she could react, Edith took her hand and led her towards the second floor. The golden-haired girl, dressed as an angel, wore a falsely gentle smile. “Let’s go back to the room, Miss Ellenore. I want to have a good talk with you about what happened.”