Chapter 24: Aftermath

"...And that, in full, is what happened at Emerald Port." Calmly facing the two solemn-faced [White Priests], Maria showed no sign of guilt or remorse for ordering the port to be set ablaze. It had been six hours since the harrowing battle. Upon returning to Flowing City, Archbishop Mark's prearranged personnel had immediately placed Maria under temporary house arrest, assigning two trusted aides to question her about the events in Emerald Port. After all, for a nun with a record of calm excellence to suddenly torch an entire port, there had to be a good reason. Maria didn’t hide anything. She laid everything out clearly. Well, except for one little revision in the timeline. She moved up the part about discovering Captain Moll's true identity—hoping the wise old archbishop would understand her need to play her cards carefully in such a dangerous situation. "Sister Maria, we’ll need you to remain in the cathedral for a while." "That’s no problem." Her soft smile and composed demeanor made it seem as though she was the host and the priests her guests. This was the benefit of maxing out favorability. Maria had raised her affinity with nearly every NPC in the [Luminous Cathedral] thanks to her high hidden charm stat and her [Lawful Good] alignment. She wasn’t worried about any underhanded consequences. In fact, she suspected the archbishop's order to confine her was more to protect her than punish her. Military contraband and arson were serious charges, either one enough to land her in a dungeon. The first charge she could deny—after all, she could feign ignorance about the military-grade crossbows. But the second? That depended on how much attention the [Root of Man] and Moll’s faction drew. "Can you tell me... how is the situation outside?" One of the [White Priests] hesitated, but the nun's warm sincerity broke through his defenses. "The fire is under control. The [Weavers] and the church’s [Holy Knights] managed to stop the [Root of Man], but... the situation is far from optimistic." This priest was of [Iron] rank—a tier above [Follower]—and the smoke stains on his robes hinted that he'd been near the port himself. "Not optimistic?" Maria’s pale fingers instinctively tightened. She doubted Emerald Port alone could pose a true threat to Flowing City’s forces. "The [Root of Man] isn’t limited to the port." The priest’s concern deepened. No one knew just how far the [Abyss] had spread into the city. Without Maria’s fire, no one would've realized the infestation had reached such a scale. The calculated restraint, the behavior of Captain Moll—it all pointed to a premeditated scheme. Someone was manipulating the [Abyss] with purpose. "The Lord is almighty." Maria made the sign of the Sun on her forehead, hiding the spark of calculation in her ruby-red eyes. .................. The quest-giving NPC had been detained, and the players found themselves caught in the aftermath. Tyr and the other closed-beta players were understandably bitter—they’d risked their necks and weren’t even sure if they'd get a reward. What they didn’t expect was Phoenix, the proud NPC, stepping in to deliver their mission rewards in Maria’s place and even securing their protection from investigation. It seemed the incident was wrapped up. But any experienced player could tell this wasn’t over. The faction behind the [Root of Man] was still at large, orchestrating an [Abyssal] invasion of Flowing City. And clearly, their power level was far above anything the players could currently handle. "Hey, cold-face!" Tyr slapped Phylin on the shoulder, narrowly avoiding a brutal counterstrike that almost broke his nose. Groaning and clutching his face, he dragged Phylin to a quiet corner. "Damn, you hit hard... You some kind of martial artist? I know traditional styles, you kn—" "What do you want." Phylin’s frosty glare could’ve frozen lava. He stared at Tyr like the man was an unevolved gorilla. But Tyr, ever the social butterfly, remained unfazed. Finally, he got to the point. "The nobles’ faction wants to collaborate with us on what happened yesterday. You interested?" By "faction," he meant the other closed-beta players. Testers had been scattered across the continent in small numbers. There wasn't much competition. In the Southwind Province’s Flowing City, the military-noble alliance and the church were the two main clusters of players. Cooperation between them—sharing info and gear—was common. Among the [Radiant Church]'s players, three stood out: Tyr, the chatterbox who could charm any NPC (and ruin any mood). Phylin, the silent killer with absurd combat skill. And Ralph, the grizzled uncle figure with natural leadership. Out of respect, Tyr came to ask the stoic swordmaster. "So? You in or not?" "Not interested." Phylin turned to leave. "..." Tyr gaped. If he didn’t know Phylin’s personality, he’d think the guy had beef with him. But Tyr wasn’t one to give up. "Wait! Hold on! You saw how Sister Maria fought yesterday, right?" Phylin stopped in his tracks. Tyr grinned. He’d hit the nerve. That graceful, lethal dance—who wouldn’t be moved? It was a symbol of power, of refined mastery. Learning that technique would skyrocket one’s combat potential. And the only way to learn it... was by gaining Maria’s favor. "They say the nobles are planning to hold her accountable for arson."