Chapter 887 - No title
'He's following. Good.'
She had called him out here for a reason. It wasn't just for fun—though, of course, teasing him was always an enjoyable bonus. No, this was something she had been thinking about for a while now.
Astron remained silent as they walked, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. After a few moments, he finally spoke. "You still haven't told me where we're going."
Irina hummed, tilting her head slightly as she cast him a sideways glance. "If I told you, it wouldn't be any fun, now would it?"
Astron didn't respond right away, but she saw the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smirk, but something close. 'He's intrigued.'
Good.
As they walked, the cool night air brushing against them, Irina let the silence linger for a moment before speaking.
"So," she mused, tilting her head slightly. "How was your exercise?"
Astron raised an eyebrow. "Julia didn't tell you?"
Irina's smirk widened as she cast him a sideways glance. "She did. But I want to hear it from your side."
Astron regarded her for a beat, his expression unreadable, but Irina caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips. It was gone in an instant, but she knew it had been there.
He exhaled lightly. "It was… interesting."
Irina quirked a brow. "Interesting?"
Astron's gaze flicked ahead, his voice calm as he continued. "I didn't expect Julia to notice me as fast as she did."
Irina hummed, slipping her hands back into her pockets. "She does have good instincts. But you were still able to get past her, weren't you?"
Astron nodded slightly. "Eventually. But she reacted faster than I predicted. I made my move, expecting her to commit to a forward pursuit, but she caught on at the last second. Forced me to adjust."
Irina listened, her gaze locked onto him as he spoke. She could tell he was still analyzing it, breaking the engagement down piece by piece in his mind.
"She forced you to adjust?" Irina repeated, her smirk curling. "Now that's rare."
Astron glanced at her, his expression unreadable as he considered her words. "It was unexpected."
Irina didn't miss the way he said it—not with frustration, not with disappointment, but with something almost amused.
She let out a quiet chuckle. "Sounds like she gave you a harder time than you thought."
Astron gave a small nod, his gaze still forward, his tone even as he spoke. "I didn't expect things to go that way. I overestimated my ability to remain undetected and underestimated Julia's instincts. It was a miscalculation I should reflect on."
Irina raised an eyebrow. "You? Overconfident?"
Astron exhaled lightly. "It happens."
Irina scoffed. "Right. Must be rare, though."
He didn't confirm nor deny it, but after a brief pause, he added, "Still… Julia's reaction time was impressive. I doubt even Lucas or Lilia would have been able to sense me in time."
Irina hummed at that, rolling the thought over in her mind before glancing at him. "Me?"
Astron didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze settling on her. "Truth or convenient answer?"
Irina smirked. "You don't give convenient answers, and you also know I'll choose the truth."
A pause. Then—
"Yeah," Astron said. "I know."
Irina watched him for a second longer, her smirk lingering but something else flickering beneath it.
He hadn't answered yet.
For a brief moment, Irina simply watched him, her smirk lingering as she waited for his answer. But then—
He was gone.
Her hazel eyes widened in an instant. The space where he had stood just a second ago was empty, as if he had vanished into thin air. The cool night air remained undisturbed, the quiet hum of the city in the distance unchanged.
'What—?'
Her body tensed as she scanned the surroundings, instincts kicking in. Nothing. No presence, no mana fluctuations, no sign of movement.
'Impossible. Where—'
"Huffff…"
A warm breath ghosted against her ear.
"Hiek—!"
She flinched violently, jumping back in an instant, her heart slamming against her ribs. Her body twisted on instinct, her eyes snapping to—
Astron.
Standing behind her, unnervingly close, his sharp purple eyes glinting with something infuriatingly smug.
"YOU!"
Her voice came out half a yell, half a furious snarl as she pointed an accusatory finger at him, her cheeks burning. "How—when—?! You—!"
And then she saw it.
The faintest hint of a smile.
It wasn't his usual composed mask, nor the rare, barely-there smirk. No, this was different. It was subtle—so, so slight—but undeniably there. The corners of his lips curved upward, amusement flickering in his usually unreadable gaze.
He was actually smiling.
'No—NO! You can't win me with that smile this time!'
She clenched her fists, willing herself to stay angry, to hold onto the outrage of being caught off guard, of being completely and utterly fooled. But the warmth blooming in her chest was undeniable, and the heat in her cheeks refused to fade.
'Damn it! Stop looking like that!'
Astron tilted his head slightly, clearly waiting for her reaction, his quiet amusement lingering.
Irina exhaled sharply, trying to gather what little dignity she had left. "That—! That was cheating!" she accused, jabbing a finger at him.
Astron merely blinked. "Cheating?"
"YES. Disappearing right in front of me? Sneaking up on me like that? Completely unfair!"
His lips twitched. "It was a test. You did say you wanted to see if you could sense me."
Irina opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again—before shutting it with a sharp huff.
'Damn it. He got me.'
Astron watched her, still calm, still annoyingly composed, and yet… there was something different. He was watching her closely, like he was waiting for something.
'Oh no. You're waiting for me to admit it, aren't you?'
She gritted her teeth. No way. Not happening.
"…I was just distracted," she muttered instead, crossing her arms.
Astron raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"YES," she snapped, whipping her head away, refusing to look at his face any longer because if she did, she'd be the one to lose.
That smile.
'Ugh. This isn't fair.'
She huffed again, turning her back to him. "Whatever! I'll get you next time. Just you wait, Astron."
Silence. Then—
"Looking forward to it."
Irina paused for just a second before storming ahead, ignoring the way her heart did a stupid little flip at those words.
'Damn it. He's learning.'
Astron watched as Irina stormed ahead, her frustration radiating off her like heat waves from a wildfire.
It was always a sight to catch her off guard, even better to see her genuinely flustered. And if he had to be honest… it was something he found the most amusing recently.
Still, fair was fair.
"How about you?"
Irina stopped mid-step. "Hah?"
Astron walked up beside her again, his expression calm, but his eyes sharp with curiosity. "I told you about my fight. What about yours?"
Irina scoffed, shoving her hands into her pockets. "Tch. What do you think?"
"I don't assume," Astron replied easily. "Tell me."
Irina exhaled, clearly still irritated—but not at him. No, the way her jaw tightened, the way her golden eyes flickered with something else, told him exactly who she was still thinking about.
She huffed, tilting her head slightly. "Lucas."
Astron raised an eyebrow.
"He did to me what I just did to Julia," she admitted, her tone grudging. "No—worse."
Astron didn't say anything, waiting for her to continue.
Irina let out a sharp exhale. "I held the right wing. Fought off two attackers at the same time. Controlled the space perfectly. I had it handled. I was winning."
Astron nodded slightly. That sounded like her.
"And then," she said, voice growing sharper, "Lucas swoops in out of nowhere, snatches the artifact, smirks, and vanishes before I can even react."
Astron blinked. "I see." But his gaze appeared to be cold.
Irina caught the shift in Astron's expression instantly.
His gaze, normally unreadable, had turned cold. Calculating.
Her brows furrowed. "What?"
Astron's voice was calm, but there was a distinct sharpness in it. "What happened exactly?"
Irina blinked. "I just told you. He stole the artifact and ran."
Astron shook his head slightly. "No. I mean—how?" His purple eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her. "Lucas isn't the type to fight stealthily. He's fast, but he's a swordsman. His movement is always direct, always with intent. How did he bypass your senses?"
Chapter 888 - No title (2)
"Lucas isn't the type to fight stealthily. He's fast, but he's a swordsman. His movement is always direct, always with intent. How did he bypass your senses?"
Irina's lips parted slightly before she closed them again, thinking.
Because that was the exact thing that had been bothering her too.
"Yeah," she muttered, crossing her arms, her expression tightening. "That's what I thought, too."
Astron remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
Irina exhaled through her nose, her frustration bubbling back up—not just at Lucas, but at herself for not figuring it out sooner.
"I don't know how he did it," she admitted. "But I do know that for a while, I couldn't tell he was there. And I should have been able to."
Astron's gaze flickered. "Go on."
Irina pressed her lips together briefly before speaking. "There was something off. When I was fighting the other two, my mana perception should have picked up any movements near me, especially someone as fast as Lucas. But I didn't notice him at all—until the very last second."
Astron's fingers twitched slightly at his side. "That's not normal."
Irina nodded. "Exactly. And then, right before he took the artifact, I saw something."
Astron remained silent, listening.
"It was faint, but… there was an illusion."
That got a reaction.
Astron's sharp gaze flicked to her. "An illusion?"
Irina's jaw tightened. "Yeah. It wasn't strong—I didn't even realize I was seeing it until it was too late. But for a second, the air shimmered, and then—he was there."
Astron's expression didn't change, but Irina could tell he was processing everything.
Because this changed things.
Lucas wasn't a magic user. He was a swordsman through and through, one of the most direct fighters in the academy.
So how the hell did he use an illusion to move undetected?
Irina scoffed, looking away briefly. "Tch. I don't know what he did, but it worked. I didn't even know he was coming until it was too late."
She clenched her fists slightly.
"And that," she muttered, "pisses me off the most."
Astron didn't respond right away. His sharp purple eyes remained fixed on Irina, but there was a flicker of thoughtfulness beneath the usual calm.
'He's thinking about it,' Irina noted.
But then, after a brief pause, he exhaled lightly and—just like that—the topic was dropped.
No conclusion. No further prodding.
'Huh. That's unlike him.'
She narrowed her eyes slightly but didn't question it. Instead, they continued walking in silence, the night air cool against her skin. She could feel his presence beside her, steady and composed, as always.
Minutes passed, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps filling the quiet between them. And then—
"As expected, you were trying to bring me to your grounds," Astron said suddenly, breaking the silence before she could.
Irina blinked. "What?"
Astron's sharp gaze flicked toward the grand building in front of them. His voice was calm, but there was a clear edge of certainty in it. "Your dorms."
Irina smirked, shoving her hands into her pockets. "Oh? So you figured it out?"
Astron tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning the area. "It wasn't hard."
They stood before the elite cadet dormitory section—an entire sector of the academy reserved only for the top ten ranked students. Unlike the standard dorms, which were communal, each of the top ten had their own private residence, complete with customized facilities.
And, of course, Irina Emberheart—rank two—had one of the best.
The grand structure before them was more like a private manor than a simple dormitory. Tall, sleek, and adorned with subtle mana-imbued carvings, the building exuded both elegance and power. The entrance was flanked by runic pillars, their soft glow pulsating in a steady rhythm, acknowledging her presence.
Irina turned toward him, her smirk widening. "Did you come here before?"
"I did not," Astron answered smoothly.
Her brow arched. "Then how did you know?"
His eyes didn't waver. "I know important places in the academy."
Irina let out a short laugh. "So you've scouted this place before?"
"Better to be familiar."
Irina shook her head, chuckling. "You are crazy."
Astron didn't flinch. "You must have known that by this point."
Irina grinned. "Yup, I did."
The air between them settled into something comfortable.
Astron's gaze lingered on the structure for a moment longer before turning back to her. "So?"
Irina tilted her head. "So what?"
"You brought me here for a reason." His voice was level, but his sharp gaze told her he wasn't going to let this be just another playful distraction.
Irina's smirk didn't fade, but her hazel eyes glimmered with something deeper.
"Yeah," she said, stepping forward and resting a hand on the runic pillar. The mana reacted instantly, recognizing her, allowing her access. The entrance unlocked with a soft chime.
"Come in, Astron."
She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes gleaming.
Then, she leaned casually against the doorway, her smirk unwavering. "You promised, Astron. So, you better come in and uphold your word."
Astron's sharp purple eyes flickered with something unreadable as he studied her for a moment. Then, with a slight shake of his head, he exhaled. "You do know it's pretty late, right?"
Irina raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Is there a problem?"
"..."
She crossed her arms, tilting her head. "It's not like it's the first time you're staying over for the night."
"That's true," Astron admitted, his tone as composed as ever.
And yet—
"But wait," he continued, his voice dipping slightly as his gaze locked onto her, "why did you assume that you would be here overnight?"
Irina blinked. "What?"
Astron took a single step forward, closing the space between them. His height and the subtle shift in his presence made it so that she had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze.
Then, with a voice calm and deliberate, he continued. "The way you keep shifting your weight slightly to your right foot."
Irina stilled.
"You only do that when you're excited," Astron stated matter-of-factly. "It's a small habit, but you can't stop yourself from doing it when you're looking forward to something."
Irina's smirk faltered—just a fraction—but Astron wasn't finished.
"You did the same thing back at Emberheart Estate," he continued, his voice unwavering. "When I agreed to stay the night, when you led me toward the estate's restricted training hall, and even when you pretended you weren't excited about it."
Irina inhaled sharply, her arms tightening across her chest. 'Damn it. He's noticing things again.'
Astron tilted his head ever so slightly. "So tell me, Irina—why exactly are you so excited right now?"
Silence.
Irina's golden eyes locked onto his, defiance flickering behind them. But deep down, she knew—he had her.
Irina didn't blink. Didn't shift. Didn't let her expression crack. Instead, she slowly—deliberately—raised her hand and pointed a single finger right at his lips.
"Shut up and follow me. You are now under my jurisdiction."
Astron stared at her, completely unbothered. "...What?"
Irina smirked, her finger still hovering in front of his mouth like some divine decree. "You are now in my land, so you will follow my words."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you the ruler of this place?"
"Yes, I am," she declared without hesitation. Then, folding her arms, she added smugly, "And you are now my subject."
Astron's lips twitched. "You are really delusional."
"Shut up and play along, will you?" Irina huffed, stepping past him toward the entrance, her confidence unwavering.
Astron exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. But then, after a brief pause—
"....Yeah... yeah... Ma'am."
Irina froze mid-step. Then, slowly, she turned her head back to him.
There it was. That faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. Not quite a smirk, not quite teasing, but something knowing.
And yet—he complied.
'That's right. Follow your ruler, peasant,' she thought smugly, walking forward with her head high.
This was her domain. And tonight, Astron was playing by her rules.
Chapter 889 - No title (3)
Irina strode ahead with a confident air, the grand doors of her dorm unlocking at her mere presence. As they stepped inside, the entryway was illuminated by soft mana lights, casting a warm glow over the polished floors and elegantly structured space.
She made a sweeping gesture with her hand. "Welcome to my humble abode," she said, smirking as she turned toward Astron. "Two floors, a grand garden, private facilities—everything one needs to live comfortably."
Astron's sharp gaze scanned the area, taking in the high ceilings, the seamless blend of elegance and function, and the sheer space that separated this place from the standard dorms. "Lavish," he commented simply.
Irina snorted. "You haven't even seen the best parts yet."
She led him through the first floor, pointing out the fully stocked kitchen—not that she used it much—then the lounge, lined with bookshelves and mana-enhanced furniture designed for relaxation. At the back, wide glass doors led to her personal garden, a sprawling area with glowing flora, a small pond, and carefully arranged pathways.
Astron's gaze lingered on it for a moment before she pulled him toward the stairs. "Second floor has my personal quarters, study, and a few other rooms I may or may not use," she said, waving a hand. "But what's even more impressive is the compound outside."
She gestured toward the massive window overlooking the elite dorms. Beyond the buildings, in the very center of the compound, lay the personal training grounds for the top ten cadets—vast, state-of-the-art, and enchanted to accommodate extreme combat conditions.
Astron's eyes flickered toward the grounds, analyzing, calculating.
Irina grinned. "Now this is something that might interest you."
He glanced at her, waiting.
She leaned against the railing, arms crossed. "All this? It's the kind of privilege that comes with being in the top ten. You could be enjoying all of this too, you know." She tilted her head. "So? How about showing some strength?"
Astron's gaze remained unreadable as he turned his eyes back to the compound. Then, calmly, he countered, "These types of things are luxuries that are not needed for a Hunter."
Irina blinked. "Hah?"
Astron continued, his tone even. "A Hunter does not need a grand house or personal training grounds. Survival does not come from privilege, nor does strength." His sharp gaze met hers. "And more importantly, revealing one's capabilities comes at a greater cost than the rewards it offers."
Irina frowned slightly, processing his words. "What do you lose exactly?"
Silence.
Astron looked at her, his expression calm, yet something unreadable lurked behind those sharp purple eyes.
"You can't tell me, right?" she pressed, watching him closely.
"I can tell you," he admitted after a moment. "But it would be difficult to explain in a way that makes sense to you." A pause. "Rather, you will see the reasons soon."
Irina exhaled, rubbing her temple. "Sigh... You really are secretive."
"....You also had known that from the start?"
Irina scoffed, shaking her head. "Damn, I had…" Then, smirking slightly, she added, "Wish I had chosen better, though."
Astron's lips twitched. "But you didn't."
She clicked her tongue, glancing at him. "Tch. No, I didn't."
For a moment, they stood there, the glow of the mana lights casting long shadows over the space, the air thick with an unspoken challenge between them.
And yet, despite everything—Irina couldn't help but feel a little satisfied.
Even if he wouldn't admit it, she knew Astron was analyzing everything. Watching. Thinking.
Irina watched him carefully, the way his sharp eyes scanned everything—not just with curiosity, but with something deeper. Calculation. Assessment. Even here, in a place built for comfort, Astron was breaking it all down, seeing what mattered, what didn't.
'Maybe he'll find something here,' she thought. 'Maybe he'll start connecting things differently.'
But despite that hope, something heavier lurked beneath her thoughts.
A fear she still couldn't shake.
Even now, standing in the glow of her own domain, the memory clawed at the edges of her mind—the scene that had burned itself into her soul.
The spear piercing his body.
His lifeless eyes.
His form twisting, warping, signs of demonic corruption spreading like a cursed flame.
The moment when she knew—he had sold himself to demons.
Irina's fingers curled into fists at her sides. Damn it. Even now, it wouldn't leave her. No matter how much time passed, no matter how much she tried to bury it under everything else, that image stayed.
She could still hear the words from back then, a haunting echo buried deep inside her:
--"Even after trying to achieve my revenge in the pursuit of the very beings that made my life hell, I learned the enemy I deemed had never been the ones I sought."
--"It was then I realized it's not the weak's fault for being trampled, nor the strong's fault for using their power. It's this world's fault for giving power to the wrong people."
Those words—his words—still unsettled her.
'That's why…'
She looked at him now, standing there calmly, his expression unreadable, as if none of this affected him.
'That's why I have to keep an eye on you. No matter what.'
Taking a breath, she pushed the thoughts down, burying them for now. Instead, she straightened up, placing her hands on her hips.
"Now, come here and sit," she ordered.
Astron blinked, turning his gaze back to her. "What?"
Irina gestured to the floor. "Sit. Right here."
He studied her for a second longer before exhaling lightly and complying, lowering himself onto the ground with his usual composed movements.
Astron had barely settled onto the floor when Irina grabbed his sleeve and tugged him upward.
"Not there," she said, her smirk returning. "Here."
She gestured to the long, cushioned couch that stretched across the lounge. It was sleek, lined with mana-infused fabric that adjusted for comfort. Without waiting for his response, she nudged him toward it.
Astron sighed but complied, sitting down as she did the same beside him.
Then, after a brief pause, Irina turned toward him, eyes glinting with mischief. "You… do you play games?"
Astron blinked, his sharp gaze shifting to her. "Games?"
"Yes."
"I don't."
Irina smirked, already knowing the answer. "I knew it." She leaned back, resting her arm against the back of the couch. "You probably find them a waste of time, huh?"
Astron remained quiet for a second before exhaling. "…Well. They are a waste of time."
"Heh."
Irina let out a small chuckle, her fingers twitching slightly. Without another word, she raised her hand, and the air before them shimmered. A pulse of mana connected to the runic structure embedded just beneath the lounge area.
Then—click.
Right in front of them, a sleek, arcane console activated. Its interface, a smooth black panel lined with glowing golden inscriptions, pulsed as it scanned them. The mana screen in front of them flickered to life, adjusting instantly to their seating positions.
Astron's sharp purple eyes flicked toward it, taking in the sudden change. "Hmm?"
"What, hmm?" Irina smirked, grabbing a pair of floating controllers as they materialized before them. She handed one to him, fingers barely suppressing her excitement. "Today, we're playing games."
Astron stared at her, then at the controller in his hand, then back at the screen. "…This was your plan?"
Irina leaned forward, a glint of challenge in her eyes. "You're the one who thinks it's useless, right? Let's put that theory to the test."
For once, Astron didn't immediately refuse. Instead, he looked down at the device in his hand, assessing it.
Irina's smirk widened.
'Got him.'
Chapter 890 - No title (4)
Irina smirked on the outside, but deep inside, she was already hating this.
Why?
Because this game—this cursed, rage-inducing game—had been a stain on her pride ever since she had touched it.
She hadn't even wanted to start playing at first. But then, Julia—that smug, taunting menace—had introduced her to it.
"It's fun, Irina! It's all about strategy and mechanics! You'd like it!"
That was how it had begun.
And she had fallen.
Hard.
Not because she actually enjoyed it—no, no, no—it was because, at some point, she realized something horrifying:
She was stuck in silver.
Meanwhile, Julia? That traitor was sitting comfortably in platinum, looking down on her like some high-ranking noble watching a peasant struggle in the dirt.
"Oh? You're still silver, Irina? That's kind of embarrassing, don't you think?"
Every. Single. Time.
No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many sleepless nights she spent queuing up, something always went wrong.
Some griefer would run it down mid.
Some idiot would lock in her role and int her lane.
Some useless carry would get fed, only to do nothing when it actually mattered.
And support? What support? She might as well be playing alone!
And every single match, her rank remained the same.
Silver.
Freaking. Silver.
Meanwhile, Julia just floated through her games like some divine being untouched by mortal struggles, laughing at her pain, reminding her over and over again how she had already climbed past this "low rank."
And Irina? She was suffering.
She knew she should have quit long ago, but no. Every time Julia teased her, she felt that rage, that need to prove herself, and the cycle repeated.
Queue up. Get griefed. Get mad. Queue again. Get griefed harder. Lose more rank. Rage quit. Repeat.
And now, here she was. Sitting next to Astron, holding a controller, staring at this screen.
'Why did I think this was a good idea?'
She could already feel it coming.
The tilt. The frustration. The rage.
And worst of all?
Astron was about to witness her suffering firsthand.
Irina exhaled sharply, gripping the controller a little tighter.
Yeah. This was one of the reasons she had dragged Astron here.
Because if things stayed like this—if she kept getting stuck in this silver hell, if Julia kept laughing at her misery, if her rank refused to move one damn inch—she was going to die from frustration.
And after today? Losing to Lucas like that? She needed something to feel better about.
She hated losing. She hated it more than anything. And yet, she had lost today. Badly.
That wasn't something she could just shake off.
But more than that…
She stole a glance at Astron from the corner of her eye.
The main reason she had brought him here wasn't just about the game.
It was because she wanted to spend time with him.
It was becoming harder and harder to do that.
Astron was always busy—training, scouting, analyzing everything like a machine. And she wasn't much better, always caught up in her own relentless cycle of missions, responsibilities, and ambition.
Days, even weeks, passed where they barely had a moment to themselves.
And that?
That wasn't good.
She didn't like it.
Didn't like the feeling of them growing distant, of time slipping through her fingers.
Didn't like how things felt different lately.
So, fine. If she had to use this stupid game as an excuse to keep him here for a little longer, then so be it.
If she had to suffer through one more ranked match, if she had to deal with griefers, useless teammates, and lane trolls—then fine.
At least he'd be here.
At least she wouldn't be dealing with all of it alone.
"Alright," she muttered, shaking off her thoughts as she rolled her shoulders. "Let's get this over with."
Astron raised an eyebrow. "You're making it sound like a battlefield."
She clicked her tongue. "Oh, trust me. It is."
He didn't argue. Instead, he simply adjusted his grip on the controller, his sharp purple eyes scanning the screen as if assessing the battlefield.
Irina smirked slightly.
'Good. If I have to suffer, I might as well drag him down with me.'
As the game loaded, the screen flickered with the familiar logo and background music—one that Irina had heard way too many times but still sent a pang of frustration straight to her chest.
Astron, as expected, was watching the whole thing with quiet calculation.
Then, without looking away from the screen, he asked, "Why did you suddenly decide to do this?"
Irina didn't even hesitate. "This game, you mean?"
"Yes."
She leaned back into the couch, twirling the controller in her hands before answering. "Since I lost to Lucas in a way that reminded me of you, I got annoyed." Her hazel eyes flicked to his. "And I need something to channel my annoyance, don't I?"
Astron exhaled lightly. "…Is that it?"
"What else?" she shot back. Then, before he could analyze her any further, she added, "Is it wrong for me to want to spend time with you?"
Silence.
Astron turned his head toward her, meeting her gaze directly. His sharp purple eyes studied her for a moment, unreadable as always, as if he was peeling back the layers of her reasoning.
Then, without argument, he shook his head. "No, it is not wrong."
Irina blinked.
And then—she smirked.
"Good," she said, lips curling as she leaned forward. "Then stop with the questions and boot up the damn game."
Astron let out a quiet sigh but didn't refuse, gripping the controller as the matchmaking queue began.
Irina grinned, stretching her fingers.
As the game loaded into the lobby, Irina shot a sideways glance at Astron, already anticipating what was about to happen.
He had never played before. He had no idea what he was doing.
Which meant…
She could teach him.
A rare, almost nostalgic feeling crept up on her at that thought. It had been a while since she had taught him something—since the time in the library when she had drilled the basics of magic into his head.
Back then, he had absorbed everything like a damn sponge, taking in her explanations, processing them, and then using them like he had known it all along.
It had been frustrating. But… also fun.
And for some reason, she yearned for that feeling again.
'Heh. Guess I'll have to make sure he sucks at this, then.'
As the game transitioned to character selection, she smirked. "Alright, rookie. Pick your champion."
Astron stared at the screen, silent. The sheer number of options was probably processing in his mind—he was likely already categorizing them by effectiveness, skill ceilings, and whatever else his over-analytical brain did.
Irina wasn't having that.
She reached over and quickly scrolled through the roster before selecting a random champion for him.
"There. That's yours."
Astron glanced at her, unimpressed. "I assume you picked something weak on purpose?"
She smirked. "Maybe."
His lips twitched slightly, but he didn't argue. Instead, he simply adjusted his grip on the controller as the countdown began.
Irina leaned back, a familiar competitive fire lighting up inside her.
'Alright, Astron. Let's see how bad you are.'
If he dared to be good at this game right away—she was going to lose her mind.
Chapter 891 - Game night
The game loaded in, and Astron's character appeared at the starting platform. A sleek, cloaked figure with glowing ethereal arrows hovered slightly above the ground—one of the ranged carries, a high-damage but fragile champion.
Astron examined the screen, fingers adjusting on the controller as he took in the interface. His purple eyes flicked over the abilities, scanning the stats like they were battle data.
Meanwhile, Irina was already grinning.
'Oh, this is perfect.'
Since she usually played support, she might as well teach him the carry role.
That way, they could duo together.
And sure, maybe it was a bit ridiculous, but she had been envisioning this exact scenario for a while now.
Not that she'd ever say that out loud.
The idea of playing together, of carrying the game as a duo, had crossed her mind more times than she wanted to admit.
Of course, there was also the fact that carry was the hardest role for a beginner.
Glass cannon. Squishy. Completely reliant on positioning.
One wrong move? Dead.
So, naturally, it was perfectly suited for Astron to suffer.
"Alright, listen up," Irina said, resting an elbow on the armrest while looking at him. "You're the carry, which means you're weak as hell but hit like a truck. Your job? Stay alive and kill."
Astron nodded slightly, still scanning the stats. "I see."
Irina smirked. "No, you don't see. You think you do, but you don't. You're going to die instantly if you overstep even once."
He glanced at her. "So don't overstep."
"Pfft. Easier said than done." She clicked her tongue. "You have to be precise. Read movement. Time your attacks. Know when to fight and when to run."
Astron nodded as if he understood.
'Hah. You're so confident now. Let's see how long that lasts.'
Irina exhaled through her nose, still smirking as she navigated through the menus. "Alright, before we even think about throwing you into a real match, you're doing the tutorial."
Astron tilted his head slightly. "Mandatory?"
"Obviously." She clicked through the setup process. "You can't just make an account and start playing right away. You need to hit level three before you can even queue against bots."
Astron's sharp eyes flicked toward the top-right corner of the screen, where the system had automatically linked his ManaNet account to the game. A brand-new username popped up beside a level one indicator.
"Creating an account is easy," Irina explained. "It syncs with the ManaNet database, so it basically does all the work for you. But you can't just jump in." She grinned. "They make sure people at least pretend to learn before throwing themselves into ranked hell."
She selected "Tutorial Mode", and in an instant, the screen changed to a pristine training field, glowing runes carved into the stone floor as enemy dummies stood waiting.
Astron's chosen champion spawned at the center of the training grounds, bow drawn, glowing arrows hovering at his fingertips.
A text box appeared on the screen.
"Welcome to the Beginner's Training! Here, you will learn the fundamentals of controlling your champion, attacking enemies, and surviving in battle!"
Irina chuckled, leaning into the couch. "Alright, rookie. Let's see if you can even handle the basics."
Astron didn't respond immediately. Instead, he rolled his shoulders slightly—just a tiny movement, but one Irina had seen before.
He was already preparing himself.
Her smirk deepened.
'Oh, this is going to be fun.'
The moment Astron's champion appeared on the training field, the system prompted him with basic movement instructions.
"Move your champion by tilting the left stick."
Astron, with all his usual precision, tilted the joystick—only for his champion to stagger forward awkwardly, wobbling like a newborn deer before stopping abruptly.
Irina barely held in a laugh.
'Oh no. Oh, this is even better than I imagined.'
Astron tilted the stick again, and this time, the character zigzagged across the training field in a way that made it look like he was either incredibly drunk or deeply confused about where his feet were supposed to land.
"…This movement is inefficient," he muttered, adjusting his grip on the controller.
"Pfft—!" Irina definitely heard that tiny note of frustration.
"Well, yeah," she teased, resting her chin on her hand. "Unlike actual combat, you're only using your hands here. No real footwork, no full-body movement—just you, the controller, and your bad motor skills."
Astron narrowed his eyes at the screen, clearly analyzing the problem. He attempted another movement input, but his champion jerked forward and then stopped again, as if debating whether to obey his command or simply collapse.
Irina let out a short snicker.
'This is amazing. I should've recorded this.'
"Alright, alright," she said, stifling another laugh. "You're moving like an old man who forgot how to walk."
The moment Irina finished teasing him, Astron fell into absolute silence.
She blinked.
No retort. No questioning. No sarcastic remark.
Just... complete focus.
His grip on the controller adjusted slightly, his sharp purple eyes scanning the screen as if it were a real battlefield.
'Huh?'
Irina had seen this look before—the same kind of intense analysis he used during combat, like he was breaking down every single movement and response in real time.
And then, it happened.
Little by little, his movements stabilized.
The awkward staggering? Gone.
The weird start-stop hesitation? Vanished.
By the time the second wave of minions arrived—barely forty seconds into the game—Astron's champion was already moving and aiming properly.
'No way.'
Irina squinted at the screen.
His character was still new-level clunky, sure, but he had already figured out how to position himself properly, track enemy movement, and shoot his arrows with decent accuracy.
"Oi," she muttered, eyeing him suspiciously. "You better not be secretly good at this."
Astron didn't even look at her. His fingers moved smoothly over the controller, guiding his champion as if testing out the input timing.
'What the hell? No way. This is not normal.'
She had seen people struggle for HOURS with these mechanics. Even Julia, who was naturally good at games, had taken way longer to adjust to controls.
But this guy?
Forty seconds.
And he was already grasping the basics.
Irina clicked her tongue and crossed her arms.
"Alright," she muttered, shaking off her surprise. "Next part. Last hitting gives you gold. That goes for minions, monsters, and enemy champions too."
Astron's eyes flicked toward the gold counter in the HUD. Without a word, he adjusted his position slightly—just a fraction.
And then, as the minions lined up…
He started last-hitting them.
Irina's eye twitched.
'Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me.'
Irina leaned in slightly, watching closely.
Astron had zero experience in gaming. He had never played before.
So there was no way—absolutely no way—he was going to land his last hits properly on the first try.
Right?
The first minion came into last-hit range.
Astron's champion fired too early. The shot whiffed, and the minion died to another source.
'Ha! Knew it.'
The second minion? Another miss.
The third? Same thing.
'As expected.' Irina smirked, leaning back slightly.
But then—
The fourth minion.
Click!
The arrow landed cleanly, securing the gold.
Irina's smirk froze slightly.
'Oh? Lucky shot, maybe?'
She kept watching.
The fifth minion came. He mistimed it—barely.
The sixth? Hit.
And then the seventh—
He got the cannon minion.
Irina's hands froze mid-motion.
Her brain short-circuited for a second.
He had missed the first three, sure, but then he had landed three out of the next four.
And one of them was the cannon minion?!
'Hold on, hold on, hold on. That was just luck. That had to be luck. Right?'
Even she struggled to consistently secure cannon minions sometimes. The health bar was tricky to predict, the timing was always slightly off, and yet—
Astron had just done it perfectly on his first attempt.
She turned her head slowly, looking at him with suspicion.
"You..." She squinted. "You sure you've never played before?"
Astron, still focused on the game, didn't react immediately. Then, without looking at her, he said calmly—
"I haven't."
Irina's eye twitched.
'Liar.'
But no—no, she knew he wasn't lying.
That was the problem.
He had never played before.
And yet, somehow, his instincts were already catching up to the game's mechanics.
'This is ridiculous. What kind of monster just picks this up like that?'
Irina took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes at the screen.
'Alright, fine. If you're going to get good this fast—I'll make sure you struggle first.'
Chapter 892 - Game night (2)
As the tutorial progressed, the game introduced more mechanics—ones that were crucial for actual gameplay.
"Skills have cooldowns. Managing them efficiently is the key to winning fights."
Astron tested his champion's abilities, pressing each button methodically as if committing them to muscle memory. The cooldown timers popped up, and Irina could see him already calculating the gaps between each use.
'Okay, that's normal. Everyone learns that part fast…'
But the next section?
"Every champion has a passive ability. Pay attention to how it works—it can turn the tide of battle."
Astron read the description.
Then, he activated his next skill immediately in sync with his passive effect, landing a perfect chain of attacks on the practice dummy.
Irina's grip on the controller tightened.
'Okay, hold up. How the hell did he just understand that instantly?'
The tutorial moved forward, spawning an enemy champion in front of him.
The game provided a brief rundown:
"Enemy champions have unique abilities. Learn how they work, or risk being caught off guard."
Astron, of course, had no clue what this enemy could do.
So when it launched a spell straight at him—
BAM.
The attack landed clean, chunking half of his health bar.
Irina grinned.
"Ha! See? Even you can't—"
BAM.
The next skill hit him too.
'Pfft—!'
Astron didn't react, merely adjusting his position. But Irina could see it now.
That sharp focus.
That calculation.
The next time the enemy tried to cast—
Astron moved.
He dodged the ability entirely by side-stepping at the exact moment the skill animation began.
Irina's grin faltered.
'Oh, you've gotta be kidding me.'
A few seconds later—
He killed the enemy champion.
Cleanly. Efficiently.
Irina narrowed her eyes. "Alright. That was just one fight. The tutorial literally made that enemy easier for you."
But then—
Astron pushed forward, taking down the turret.
And then—
He repeated the process.
Three times.
Systematically destroying everything in his path.
By the time he reached the enemy base, Irina had gone from mildly amused to mildly horrified.
Astron blasted through the enemy Nexus in a flawless finish, the victory screen appearing before them.
"Congratulations! You have completed the tutorial!"
Irina just stared at the screen.
Astron set the controller down with a quiet, satisfied exhale.
Irina turned to him slowly.
"...What the hell was that?"
Astron raised an eyebrow. "The tutorial?"
She pointed at the screen. "That was not normal! Nobody picks it up that fast!"
Astron tilted his head slightly. "It was straightforward. The mechanics are structured, and the enemy patterns were predictable."
Irina groaned, burying her face in her hands.
'Oh, no. He's gonna be one of those players, isn't he?'
Astron glanced at her. "Is there an issue?"
She lifted her head, squinting at him. "We're queuing into bots next, and if you don't suffer at least once, I am going to make sure you do."
Astron's lips twitch—just barely.
"...Understood."
Irina huffed.
'This is NOT how this was supposed to go.'
Irina quickly navigated to the friend request section, preparing to add Astron to her list. But before she could, the system prompted him to set up an in-game alias.
Astron glanced at the screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.
And then—
'Hehe…'
An idea popped into Irina's mind. A mischievous, evil, absolutely perfect idea.
'He can't be trusted with naming himself. I need to handle this. Personally.'
With a smirk, she turned toward him. "Hey, can you grab the snacks?"
Astron blinked, his fingers pausing. "Snacks?"
"Yep." She waved her hand dismissively. "They're on the—uh, near the kitchen. Top shelf. Also, there are some drinks there as well."
Astron didn't move right away. Instead, his sharp purple eyes locked onto her, analyzing.
Irina sweated internally.
'He didn't notice, right? He totally didn't notice.'
Astron didn't say a word.
Then, after a long pause—
"...Okay."
Irina exhaled silently. Victory.
"They're on the…" Astron started.
"Yep, they're there," she quickly cut in. "Oh! And make sure to check behind the—uh, whatever's in the way."
Astron's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
Irina's heartbeat sped up.
'He didn't see through that, right? RIGHT?!'
A few more seconds of tense silence.
And then—
Astron turned and left the room.
The second he was gone—
Irina moved. FAST.
She slammed the keyboard, pulling up the username input.
'Alright, what should I name him?'
She had one shot at this before he came back.
Irina's fingers flew over the keyboard, her smirk widening as she typed.
She didn't even have to think too hard about it.
If he was going to be her duo partner, then his name should reflect that, right?
Her in-game name was [InfernoQueen].
So naturally…
[InfernoKnight]
She hit confirm with a smug little grin.
'Perfect.'
A name that made it very, very clear that he was hers.
Whether Astron liked it or not, the moment he stepped into her gaming world, he belonged to her. And now? The entire server would know it.
She leaned back, arms crossed, reveling in her absolute genius.
'He's going to be so confused. Heh.'
But then—
A sound.
Footsteps.
Astron returned, way faster than she expected.
Irina froze.
Her amber eyes darted to the screen—where the username change confirmation still flashed bold and clear.
And then—
She turned to Astron.
He was already looking at the screen.
His sharp purple eyes took in the name. The words. The meaning.
Irina felt a drop of sweat slide down her back.
'Oh no. He saw it immediately.'
For a moment, Astron didn't say anything.
Astron stared at the screen.
[InfernoKnight.]
His fingers hovered over the controller, his sharp purple eyes flicking between the name and Irina, who was now frozen like a criminal caught mid-heist. Her smugness had evaporated in an instant, replaced with barely contained panic.
Astron blinked.
'So that's what she was up to.'
Truthfully, he had known she was planning something the moment she had asked him to fetch the snacks. It wasn't hard to tell. Her voice had carried that deliberate nonchalance, the kind she used when she thought she was being clever. And while anyone else might have fallen for it, Astron had long since learned how to read between the lines of Irina's antics.
If he had wanted to, he could have caught her in the act immediately. He could have been back in a fraction of a second, effortlessly exposing her little scheme. Or, better yet, he could have monitored her from afar—his senses were more than capable of tracking her movements without even trying.
But…
He didn't.
Instead, he let her have her moment.
Because as much as he enjoyed outmaneuvering her, as much as he found satisfaction in winning their little battles of wit… he also liked this side of her. The side that schemed and plotted, that grinned with mischievous delight, that reveled in pranks just for the sake of seeing his reaction.
She was easy to read, but that didn't mean he disliked it. If anything, he found himself entertained by how much effort she put into messing with him.
And now, watching her squirm as realization dawned on her that he had caught everything—
Yes. This was satisfying.
Astron tilted his head slightly. His expression remained unreadable, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his gaze.
"You were… quick," Irina blurted out, breaking the silence.
Astron said nothing.
Irina shifted in her seat, her eyes darting anywhere but at him. "That was—uh—fast! Did you even check behind the—uh, whatever I told you to?"
Astron still didn't respond.
Because he was waiting.
Waiting for her to break.
And she did.
Irina groaned, throwing her hands up in dramatic surrender. "Alright, fine! I did it! I renamed you! But listen, before you say anything—just think about how cool it sounds, okay?"
Astron exhaled softly, his gaze returning to the screen. "InfernoKnight," he repeated, voice calm.
"Exactly!" Irina said, leaning forward, desperate to defend her decision. "It fits! You can't just go around using some boring name like 'A-01' or whatever. You need something with style!"
Astron remained quiet, letting her dig herself deeper.
Irina pressed on. "And come on, it matches mine! InfernoQueen and InfernoKnight? That's perfect duo synergy!"
At this, Astron glanced at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Duo synergy?"
Irina coughed. "I mean—uh—yes! Of course! Think about it—when people see our names, they'll immediately know we're a team. They'll fear us!"
He let her words settle.
And then—
"You just wanted to mark me as yours."
Irina choked.
Chapter 893 - Game night (3)
"You just wanted to mark me as yours."
Irina choked.
Astron watched as she flailed for a response, her face rapidly heating up. "Wha—?! I—?! That is NOT—! I mean—!"
"Your name is InfernoQueen," Astron continued, his tone as even as ever. "You deliberately chose a name that complements yours. The implication is clear."
Irina's eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route. "L-Look, don't get the wrong idea! It's just branding! Branding, okay?! You need a strong, coordinated brand when playing online!"
Astron let the silence stretch just a little longer.
Then, finally, he gave her an out.
"I see," he said, feigning contemplation. "So, this is purely for strategic reasons?"
"YES." Irina nodded so fast she might have given herself whiplash. "Totally. 100%. Absolutely no other reason whatsoever."
"Hmm."
Astron leaned back slightly, fingers tapping idly against his controller. His eyes returned to the screen, where the name was now permanently set in place.
He didn't mind it.
Not at all.
And judging by Irina's reaction, neither did she—though she would never admit it.
"Alright," he said simply.
Irina blinked. "Huh?"
"I'll keep it."
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "Wait, really?"
He gave her a sidelong glance, his voice carrying just the faintest trace of amusement. "You put effort into it, didn't you?"
Irina looked at him, her amber eyes searching his expression as if trying to figure out whether he was being serious. And when she saw that he was—
Her lips curled into a slow, triumphant smirk.
"Heh. That's right, I did," she said, leaning back with satisfaction. "And don't you forget it."
Astron simply nodded, rolling his shoulders as he prepared for the next match.
"Alright, InfernoKnight," Irina teased, her voice dripping with playful smugness. "Time to test if you can live up to the name."
Astron stared at the name again.
[InfernoKnight.]
His sharp purple eyes flicked toward Irina, who was still basking in the glow of her self-proclaimed victory. She had that smug little smirk, the one that meant she thought she had won their exchange.
But Astron had one last card to play.
He tilted his head slightly, voice calm as ever. "It's an odd choice."
Irina blinked. "What?"
"A knight being the carry," Astron elaborated, tapping his fingers idly against his controller. "Shouldn't it be the other way around? The queen is the one who commands, while the knight protects. Wouldn't it make more sense for me to be the support and you the carry?"
Irina stiffened.
For a split second, her eyes darted to the side—clearly trying to come up with some kind of rebuttal.
Astron waited.
Then, just as he expected—
She flailed.
"T-That's—!" Irina's voice caught in her throat before she huffed, crossing her arms. "It's not like everything has to be logical! Just—just enjoy it!"
Astron's lips twitched ever so slightly. "So logic doesn't matter now?"
"Not in this case!" she snapped, her face slightly flushed. "Names are about style! You don't need to overanalyze every little thing!"
He hummed, as if considering her words. "I see. So 'InfernoQueen' can be the carry, and 'InfernoKnight' can be… what, her personal vanguard?"
Irina straightened in her seat, her confidence returning. "Exactly! See? You get it now."
Astron exhaled softly, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah, yeah…" he muttered, adjusting his grip on the controller. Then, almost too quietly to be caught—
"…My queen."
Irina froze.
Her entire body went rigid, her amber eyes widening in alarm.
Astron didn't look at her. He didn't need to. He could feel the way the atmosphere shifted the moment those words left his mouth.
There was a moment of pure, stunned silence.
Then—
"Wha—?!" Irina nearly fell off the couch. "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!"
Astron finally turned to face her, expression unreadable. "What?"
"D-Did you just—did you just call me—?!"
Irina froze, her entire system shutting down for a full two seconds.
Then—
Her brain exploded.
'WHAT. DID. HE. JUST. SAY?!'
She whipped her head toward Astron, her eyes blazing. "Did you just—did you just call me—?!"
Astron, stoic as ever, merely tilted his head slightly, expression completely unreadable.
"What?" he said, his voice perfectly neutral.
Irina's eye twitched.
'Oh. OH. THIS GUY.'
The way he sat there, pretending like nothing happened, like he hadn't just DESTROYED her brain with those two words—she knew he was doing this on purpose.
Just like last time.
But this time, she caught something—a tiny, nearly imperceptible twitch at the corner of his lips.
He was enjoying this.
'HE DID IT AGAIN. HE DID IT ON PURPOSE AGAIN.'
"Oh, you—!"
Before she could think, before she could even stop herself, she lunged.
Astron's eyes widened slightly as she toppled him over, pushing him down onto the couch.
His back hit the cushions, and before he could react, Irina was above him, pinning him in place.
Her hands were planted on either side of his neck, effectively caging him in.
"You're messing with me," she accused, glaring down at him.
Astron blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
For once, he hadn't expected this.
He stared up at her, his sharp purple eyes searching hers as if processing the situation.
Irina, breathing heavily from her sudden movement, realized something.
They were close.
Too close.
His breath was warm against her skin, and the second she felt it, her entire face went red.
"...."
She instantly flinched back, scrambling off him like she had been burned.
'I REALLY DIDN'T WANT TO DO THIS, THIS TIME!'
She sat back, pressing a hand to her burning face, unable to even look at him.
'Why do I keep ending up in situations like this?!'
Astron, meanwhile, slowly sat up, still eerily calm.
Still watching her.
Still not saying anything.
And somehow—that made it worse.
Irina groaned internally.
Irina snatched the nearest snack bag from the pile Astron had brought, ripping it open with unnecessary force.
And then—she stuffed her mouth.
She didn't care what it was. Didn't care about the taste. Didn't care if it was too salty, too sweet, too crunchy—
She just needed something to do before her brain self-destructed.
With her cheeks puffed like a chipmunk, she aggressively focused on the screen.
"Lewt'ws qwueuwe uwp," she mumbled, barely coherent as crumbs scattered onto her lap.
Astron, now back to his usual composed self, let out a quiet sound.
"Okay."
And with that, he joined the lobby.
Irina reached for the controller, ready to slam the queue button, ready to bury this entire moment in the depths of bot lane farming—
But then—
Something blocked her view.
A shadow loomed over her, cutting off the screen.
She blinked.
And then—
"Here."
Astron's voice was calm as ever, but there was something else behind it. Something gentle.
She turned her head—
And there he was, extending a drink toward her.
"You're going to get drowned," he added simply.
Irina froze.
Not because of the drink.
Not because he was right—because she was on the verge of choking on dry snacks like an idiot.
But because of his eyes.
They weren't teasing.
They weren't smug.
They were just… soft.
Like he found her ridiculous. But didn't mind it.
Like he was used to dealing with her like this.
Like he was—
'Don't think about it.'
She grabbed the drink instantly, looking away so fast she probably gave herself whiplash.
"Twank ywou," she mumbled, still chewing, her face slightly red.
Astron said nothing.
Just watched her.
And somehow, even though it embarrassed her—
It made her happy, too.
Chapter 894 - Game night (4)
As the match loaded in, Irina's competitive instincts flared up.
'Alright. No more weird moments. No more distractions. It's game time.'
She cracked her fingers, eyes locked on the screen as their champions spawned in the base.
Astron's ranged carry stood beside her support champion, the two of them ready to head to bottom lane.
Irina immediately shifted into teacher mode.
"Alright, listen up," she said, gripping the controller. "We're heading bot lane. That's your main spot as the carry."
Astron nodded, following her movements. "Understood."
She smirked. "Now, your job early on? Stay safe. You're weak as hell right now—glass cannon types like you don't do much damage early, so it's usually better not to fight."
Astron hummed thoughtfully.
Then, after a moment, he asked—
"But, if the enemy is playing by the same rules, aren't they also weak too?"
Irina's brain short-circuited.
'…Wait.'
She paused.
She had been playing this game for months. Had played hundreds of matches.
And never once had she actually thought about it like that.
'Holy crap. He's right.'
If both carries were weak early, then why was she so used to being passive?
Why not push the advantage first?
Irina stared at the screen.
For the first time ever, she was thinking about the game instead of just playing it on autopilot.
And it was annoying.
'Damn it! This is a game! If I wanted to think, I'd go study! What the hell is this?!'
She glared at Astron.
He, of course, was still watching the screen with calm curiosity, completely unaware of the existential crisis he had just given her.
Irina groaned, rubbing her temple.
"Okay, you know what?" she muttered, clicking her tongue. "Let's not overthink things. Just follow my lead and don't die."
Astron tilted his head slightly, his purple eyes shifting toward Irina as he absorbed her frustrated reaction.
Then, with his usual unreadable tone, he said, "Why does it feel like you are the kidnapper giving a child candy?"
Irina jerked.
Her head snapped toward him, baffled. "What are you saying?!"
Astron remained calm, adjusting his controller grip. "What? Your expression sure looks like that."
Irina's eyebrow twitched. "I am not kidnapping anyone."
"It's an analogy," Astron replied smoothly.
"Yeah! But it's an analogy that is irrelevant!"
He hummed in that infuriatingly calm way of his. "Maybe because you can't refute it?"
Irina gasped dramatically.
She slammed a hand against her chest as if personally wounded by the accusation. "Bastard! Insufferable knight!"
Astron didn't react.
He simply let the silence stretch for a moment before calmly saying—
"..."
And that somehow made her even angrier.
"STOP DOING THAT!" she shouted.
"Doing what?" he asked, as if genuinely confused.
"THAT! Just not reacting! It makes me feel like I lost even when I should've won!"
Astron's lips twitched ever so slightly.
"…Noted."
Irina exhaled sharply, glaring at the screen to stop herself from launching another counterattack.
"Alright, InfernoKnight," she muttered, stretching her fingers dramatically. "Time to show me you can actually play."
Astron nodded. "Understood."
The match began, and as soon as they stepped into lane, Irina was already nitpicking.
"Too far forward," she muttered as Astron's champion stepped slightly past the minion wave. "You're going to get hit if you stand there."
Astron adjusted his position immediately, his character shifting just slightly behind her.
Irina nodded approvingly, but a second later, she clicked her tongue. "Now you're too far back! You're missing gold!"
Astron didn't react, simply moving forward again, this time carefully threading the space between safety and efficiency.
'Tch. He actually listens fast.'
As the laning phase continued, Irina kept nitpicking, pointing out his movement issues, his timing on last hits, his reaction speed—everything.
But despite all of that—
They were winning.
Of course, the enemies were just bots, and Irina was already level 50—far past the threshold needed to play ranked. So victory was basically guaranteed.
Still, Astron was getting better.
Faster than she expected.
Faster than she had when she first started.
Sure, he still moved too much, repositioning like he was still thinking in real combat rather than staying steady to maximize his attacks. He misused some of his skills, missed a few crucial last hits.
But every single mistake was something he immediately corrected.
Irina narrowed her eyes slightly.
'This guy… is actually improving mid-game.'
Most people took days, weeks even, to refine their mechanics.
But Astron?
He was figuring it out in real time.
Irina pursed her lips, trying not to let that bother her.
'Nope. Not thinking about it. Not thinking about how he's already better than I was at this stage. No way.'
Instead, she focused back on the real goal.
Winning.
With one final push, they smashed through the enemy base, taking down the Nexus without losing a single bot tower.
The victory screen flashed.
Irina leaned back, exhaling sharply.
"Well," she muttered, setting her controller down. "That's that."
Astron tilted his head slightly. "It was easier than I expected."
Irina clicked her tongue at his casual remark. "Don't get cocky, InfernoKnight. That was just bots. Real players will stomp you if you don't play properly."
Astron simply nodded, calm as ever.
But Irina squinted at him.
He wasn't satisfied.
He wasn't acting like someone who just won their first match.
He was acting like…
Like he was already looking ahead.
'Oh no. No, no, no. Don't tell me—'
Astron turned toward her.
"Let's queue again," he said.
Irina's eye twitched.
'Damn it. He's actually enjoying this now.'
*******
Harin Anderson staggered back, his body slamming against the damp, soot-covered wall of the alley. His breath came in ragged gasps, every inhale a struggle as blood seeped from a deep gash in his side, soaking through his tattered coat. His legs trembled, barely able to support his weight, but he refused to kneel.
Not to them.
The flickering lamplight above cast long, distorted shadows across the narrow alleyway, illuminating the figures surrounding him. They moved with unnatural grace, their bodies hidden beneath black coats that seemed to ripple, as if the very fabric of their garments was alive.
Harin coughed, spitting crimson onto the cold pavement. His head tilted up, bloodshot eyes glaring at his attackers. Even in this dire moment, his will remained unbroken.
"You..." His voice was hoarse, but there was still fire in it. "...Demonic bastards!"
A cruel chuckle echoed in the alley.
One of the assailants stepped forward—a tall man with sharp, inhuman features, his irises glowing a dull, eerie red. His presence was suffocating, his very aura exuding a pressure that made the air feel thick and heavy, like a vice clamping around the lungs.
"Heh..." The man's voice was silky, almost amused. "Mister Anderson... You have been warned countless times, but you still decided to go against our wills."
Another figure emerged from the darkness, their fingers twitching unnaturally, as if itching to carve deeper wounds into Harin's flesh. The alley walls pulsed with unseen symbols—marks of a ritual in progress, designed to ensure that no soul beyond this place would hear his cries.
Harin clenched his fists. His mind raced, searching for any possible escape. But his body screamed in protest. His ribs ached, at least two of them cracked. His left arm was sluggish, his muscles numb from where a dagger had found its mark earlier in the fight.
But none of that mattered.
He had fought for too long, had suffered too much, to let the Azure Crest Guild fall here. He had lost too many comrades to these wretched contractors.
And Emily—his daughter—was still out there.
A slow, deliberate clapping sound filled the space. Another of the demon contractors, this one a woman with violet, pupil-less eyes, smiled mockingly. "You really thought you could resist forever?" she mused, tilting her head. "That a mere human guild could stand against us?"
Harin exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening. His nails dug into his own palm, the pain snapping his thoughts into focus.
'I will need to use that.'