Chapter 145: Farewell

Words : 1230 Updated : Oct 10th, 2025

The return journey to Elandra was a quiet one. The team rode back in the JLTV, the vehicle creaking with every bump on the forest road, its armored hull now scorched and dented. The air inside was heavy—not from tension, but from exhaustion. The kind that burrowed deep into the bones and made every breath feel like a weight. No one spoke for the first few hours. Even Lyra, who usually hummed softly or plucked idle tunes on her stringbow, leaned back with her eyes closed. Her quiver was half-empty, fingers wrapped in stained bandages. Meryl sat at the rear, launcher across her lap, helmet off, her short hair matted with sweat and soot. Brenna kept cleaning her shotgun out of habit, though she had long since reassembled it perfectly. Feron leaned against the vehicle’s interior, his staff beside him and eyes unfocused, as though still listening to something in the earth. And Inigo drove. Hands on the wheel, eyes scanning the road. His mind wasn’t on the terrain but back in that nest—the Broodmother’s screech, the heat, the final explosion. He could still feel the tremors in his ribs. "We should stop for water soon," Hal murmured from the passenger seat, breaking the silence. Inigo gave a single nod. They pulled up at a spring just before the forest thinned into the grasslands. One by one, the team dismounted. They washed their faces in the cold water, drank deeply, and sat without speaking. Only the sound of birdsong and trickling water filled the grove. It was Brenna who finally broke the quiet. "We made it back." "Barely," Sark replied, wiping a cut on his forearm. "That brood could’ve swallowed a battalion." "And yet," Lyra said, eyes opening, "we’re here. That means something." "It means we did our job," Inigo muttered, taking a swig from his flask. "Now let’s finish it." — The sun was low when the gates of Elandra came into view. The city gleamed in the late afternoon light, its white stone towers and spires casting long shadows over the bustling merchant roads and riverside markets. As the JLTV rumbled through the cobbled outer roads, people turned their heads, children pointing at the scorched hull, the battered armor, and the strange, dirt-smeared adventurers riding atop a metal beast. By the time they reached the Guild Hall, the sun had dipped behind the horizon. Guild personnel met them outside—scribes, quartermasters, and healers. The moment the JLTV parked, a dozen assistants rushed to help them unload, while medics offered salves and poultices for wounds. The receptionist, a woman named Elise in a crisp blue uniform, stepped forward with a clipboard. "Team Cerberus?" "That’s us," Inigo said, removing his helmet and shaking out his hair. She scanned them quickly, eyes widening at their injuries and gear. "You’re alive. That alone is a miracle. Come inside. The Guildmaster is expecting you." — The briefing chamber was warm and bright, its walls lined with tapestries and glowing crystals. At the center sat a wide, round table. Maps of the region lay scattered atop it, marked with pins and sigils. Guildmaster Thorne stood by the window. "You destroyed the nest." Inigo stepped forward and placed a sealed satchel on the table. "Confirmed kill. Broodmother neutralized. Biomass collapsed. Tunnel sealed." Thorne opened the satchel and pulled out the crystalline core of the queen—now blackened and cracked, still faintly pulsing with residual mana. The Guildmaster stared at it in silence. "Fifteen years," he finally said. "That colony grew under our feet for fifteen years. Do you understand what you’ve stopped?" "More than you know," Feron replied. Thorne looked up. "You’ve bought us time. Weeks, perhaps months. But this isn’t over. There are more." "We know," Lyra said. "We’ll be ready." Thorne offered a rare smile. "You’ll have time to prepare. For now, you’ve earned your reward." He gestured toward Elise, who stepped forward with a small lockbox. Inside were twelve golden guild medallions—each bearing the seal of the Adventurer’s Guild—and a bag of coin stamped with the royal mint. "One hundred and twenty gold pieces," she said. "Per contract, split evenly." "Fifteen each," Meryl said, reaching for her share. The others followed, though no one did so with particular enthusiasm. The money was appreciated, but it felt hollow after what they had just been through. "Lodging’s been arranged at The Silver Tankard," Elise added. "You’ve all got private rooms for the week. Courtesy of the Guild." "Thanks," Brenna said with a tired smile. "I want a bath and a bed. In that order." — The team disbanded after the meeting. The Silver Tankard was a welcome sight—warm lights, polished wood, and the scent of roasted meat and sweetbread in the air. As they entered, the innkeeper waved them through like heroes, pointing them toward a large table already prepared with hot stew, fresh bread, and pitchers of mead. They ate. They drank. They laughed—once, twice—quietly. Sark grumbled about his bruises. Brenna told the story of how she tripped on a crawler and still managed to shoot it mid-fall. Meryl claimed she saw Inigo scream like a kid when the Broodmother’s claw almost clipped him. He didn’t deny it. "Let them laugh," Lyra whispered to Feron at one point. "Let them remember how it felt to be alive." The mage nodded. "We’ll need that feeling again, soon." But for now, it was enough. — The next morning came with a quiet knock on Inigo’s door. It was Feron. "Something on your mind?" Inigo asked, sipping tea from a mug. "We need to talk." They stood out on the balcony, watching the sunrise over the eastern hills. "We’re splitting up, aren’t we?" Inigo asked after a while. Feron nodded. "Only for now. With the Broodmother dead, the leyline distortions are stabilizing. The other signatures I sensed are dormant. Could be weeks before they stir." "Makes sense to scatter. Rest. Resupply." "Brenna wants to visit her family in the south. Hal’s eyeing another contract in the east. Meryl’s... well, she always moves on after a fight." "And Lyra?" "She’ll stay in the city," Feron said. "Said she’d wait for you." Inigo looked down into his mug. "I’ll be staying, too. For now," Feron added. "I have more studies to do—especially if we want to get ahead of the next emergence." "And me?" Inigo asked. Feron smiled. "Whatever you want. You’re not bound to any of us." Inigo sighed, eyes on the rising sun. "Maybe not. But I’ve got a feeling this is only the start. Something’s brewing under all of this." "You’re not wrong," Feron replied. — By sunset, they said their goodbyes at the gates of Elandra. Brenna clasped Inigo’s forearm. "Try not to die while I’m gone." "No promises." Meryl gave a two-finger salute. "If you need me, send a crow. Or a bigger monster." Hal clapped him on the back. "We’ll be back. They always come back." And then, they were gone. Inigo and Lyra stood in the city square long after the others had left. "Feels strange," she said. "Like a Chapter closed." "It did." "But there’s more to come." Inigo nodded. "Always." She smiled faintly. "Then I’ll stay until the next page." And as the bells of the guild tower rang in the hour, the two of them turned back toward the inn, the city behind them peaceful—for now. But not forever.

Chapter 145: Farewell

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