The reunion was not a moment of joyous relief, but a tense, silent merging of two separate, weary currents. Eric's team, though battered and travel-worn, carried themselves with an air of disciplined success. Their gear was well-maintained, their gazes sharp. They were a cohesive unit. My team, by contrast, was a collection of frayed, volatile nerves held together by my will alone. The air around us was thick with the toxic residue of jealousy, blackmail, and unspoken secrets.
Masha's intelligent eyes, sharp as shards of glass, were the first to truly see the discord. Her gaze swept over us, lingering on Erica's tear-streaked face, the smug, proprietary smirk on Lana's lips, and the profound, calculated exhaustion I wore like a cloak. She didn't speak, but I could see the gears turning in her mind, the questions forming, the suspicion taking root.
"Report," I said, my voice cutting through the heavy silence, asserting a sense of order over the emotional chaos.
Eric stepped forward, his massive shield slung over his back. He was the picture of a stoic, reliable commander. "Objectives secured," he stated, his voice a low rumble. "We encountered heavy resistance at each location, but the team performed admirably."
He gestured to Masha, who unslung a heavy pack. "The Grimoire of Hoarfrost was guarded by a conclave of Cryo-Specters, ghostly elementals that were immune to physical attacks. Masha was the only one who could harm them. It was a prolonged battle of attrition that drained her reserves completely."
Masha carefully pulled a book from the pack. It was bound in white, frost-covered leather, a single, pale blue crystal embedded in its cover. Even from a distance, I could feel a palpable cold emanating from it. She clutched it to her chest, a silent acknowledgment of the hard-won prize.
"The Reinforced Mage Cloak," Eric continued, "was located in a ruin protected by a series of magical wards and pressure-plate traps. Jin's discipline and Rina's intuition were key. They navigated the maze while Kael used his copied Lightning Bolt to overload the magical conduits, disabling the traps one by one. It was a trial of precision, not power." Jin produced the cloak—a simple, dark grey garment that shimmered with a faint, silvery light, seeming to absorb the ambient magic in the air.
"Finally," Eric said, a rare grin touching his lips, "the Buckler of Sparks." He nodded toward his own arm, where a new, small, round shield was strapped. It was made of a dark, polished bronze, with intricate silver wiring inlaid across its surface. "It was held by a creature called a Blitz-Striker. A four-armed, ape-like beast that attacked with blinding speed. Its entire strategy was to overwhelm and stun its opponent with a flurry of rapid blows." He tapped the buckler. "It was the perfect opponent to test this. Every time it struck, the buckler released a jolt of electricity. The faster it attacked me, the more it stunned itself. It effectively beat itself to death against my shield."
They had succeeded, just as I knew they would. They had faced their own trials and emerged stronger, their teamwork solidified, their new artifacts a testament to their strength. They were a perfect counterpoint to the dysfunctional, emotionally compromised mess my own team had become.
A moment of silence passed as they finished their report. Then Rina, her gentle eyes scanning our group, her healer's instinct sensing the missing piece, asked the question that hung in the air like a guillotine.
"That's wonderful," she said, her smile soft but tinged with concern. "But… where's Edgar?"
The world seemed to stop. The air grew still. The faces of my team—Talia, Erica, Lana—became carefully constructed masks. Erica's face crumpled with a fresh wave of grief. Talia's became impassive, a stone wall. Lana watched me, a flicker of dark amusement in her eyes, waiting for the performance to begin.
I let the silence stretch, allowing the weight of her question to crush them. I looked down, my own face a perfect portrait of sorrow and failure.
"We lost him," I said, my voice a low, broken thing.
A collective gasp went through Eric's team. Rina's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. Jin's stoic expression cracked, replaced by disbelief. Eric took an involuntary step forward, his face a thundercloud of shock and confusion.
"What happened?" he demanded, his voice a low growl.
"The labyrinth," I began, my voice thick with feigned emotion. "The final trial. We were forced to fight crystal replicas of ourselves. It was a battle of the soul, a test of our deepest fears." I looked up, my eyes meeting each of theirs, drawing them into my lie. "Edgar… he fought with more courage than any of us. He faced his own insecurities, his own doubts, and he won. He shattered his replica. He was victorious."
I paused, letting a single, perfect tear trace a path down my cheek. "But the fight took too much from him. His replica must have landed a fatal blow in its final moments. When I finally broke free from my own trial… he was already gone. He died from his wounds, alone, just moments after his greatest victory."
The lie was a masterpiece, a beautiful, tragic story that was both believable and deeply, cruelly ironic. I had woven the truth of his courage into the fabric of my deception, making it all the more convincing.
The grief that washed over Eric's team was a raw, physical thing. Rina began to sob openly, Masha moving to comfort her, though her own face was pale with shock. Jin slammed a gauntleted fist into a tree, his face a mask of silent, frustrated rage. Kael, who had barely known Edgar, simply looked terrified, a stark reminder of how quickly a life could be snuffed out in this world.
"Damn it," Eric swore, his voice thick with sorrow. "Damn this world. He was a good man. He didn't deserve to die like that."
I let their grief fester for a moment, a foul but necessary ingredient for what was to come. Then, I rose to my feet, my own sorrow transforming into a terrible, righteous fury.
"He was more than a good man," I declared, my voice ringing with a power that made them all look at me. "He was our friend. Our comrade. And he was stolen from us." I stalked into the center of the group, my presence dominating the clearing. "I will not accept this. I will not let this stand."
I looked at each of them, my eyes blazing with a holy, manufactured fire. "I made a promise, and I will keep it. The Goddess grants a wish to the first to finish the trial. I will be the first. And I will use that wish to undo this tragedy. I will bring Edgar back."
My vow hung in the air, a shocking, audacious promise that cut through their grief and replaced it with a fragile, desperate hope. To bring back the dead. It was the power of a god, and I was claiming it as our new objective.
"To do that," I continued, my voice softening into a tone of solemn purpose, "I have preserved his soul. It is the only way the Goddess will have a trace to bring him back." I closed my eyes, and a shadow, darker and purer than any of my others, materialized beside me. It was a perfect, silent silhouette of Edgar, its form radiating a quiet, unwavering loyalty. My seventh summon. My cornerstone.
The sight of it sent another wave of shock through the group. They stared at the ghost of their friend, their sorrow mixed with a profound, chilling awe at the power I wielded.
"He is safe with me," I said softly. "And he will fight alongside us until the day I can set him free."
I had done it. I had taken the murder of their friend and twisted it into a noble crusade, a holy quest with myself as its champion. I had turned his death into the ultimate tool of motivation. His memory would now be the fuel that drove them, the chain that bound them to my will.
"Now," I said, my voice regaining its sharp, commanding edge, my personal grief seemingly pushed aside by a grim sense of duty. "We mourn later. Today, we get stronger. Our hunt for artifacts is complete. All of them." I looked around at the newly equipped team. "But it is not enough. To get the wish, we must be the first to defeat the Bone Dragon. And to do that, we must be the strongest. There is one more trial we must face before we are ready."
My gaze swept over them, my eyes burning with a cold, ambitious fire.
"Tomorrow at dawn," I declared, my voice leaving no room for doubt, "we hunt the S-rank serpent."