Chapter 36: Retreat
Stefan’s POV
I heaved a sigh, staring up at the tent ceiling like it might actually open up a way for me to go about this problem.
"Fine. Whatever it takes. I’ll grind this Miracle Authority thing out if that’s what gets that shop back."
Then a new thought hit me, sharp enough that I sat straight up.
"Wait." I narrowed my eyes at nothing in particular, the way I always did when I felt like the System was holding out on me.
"What else is running behind my back that I don’t know about? How many secret currencies do you have stacked up in there? Tell me now. Every last one. I’m not walking around this camp missing opportunities because you decided cryptic was your entire personality."
The system dinged, replying me;
[There are many exciting features and offers awaiting unlock. Continue completing missions to access each one.]
I scoffed out loud, throwing both hands up. "Putting on airs... That’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re being dramatic on purpose, aren’t you? You could just tell me straight and you’re choosing not to."
No response, which I decided to take as a full confession. I hissed.
"Okay then, give me something. Hidden mission, side mission, I don’t care which. I’m ready right now, tonight, whatever you’ve got left in the tank. Give me multiple missions."
[Unfortunately, no missions remain available for the rest of the day.]
I cursed under my breath, dragging both hands slow down my face, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to me all at once - Zinnia’s fists, the duel, Jonquil’s tent, the bathhouse, all of it stacking up into one long, ridiculous day that had somehow still ended in disappointment.
[Host may wait until tomorrow, which is approaching.]
I groaned, long and dramatic, and let myself fall backward onto the fur bed, arms splayed out like a man who’d just lost a fight he didn’t even get to throw a punch in.
"Fine," I muttered to the ceiling. "Tomorrow, then. Great. Can’t wait."
~~~~~~~~
By evening, I hadn’t moved much from that same spot, running through every possible angle for how to squeeze a few more days out of Zinnia.
The tent had gone dim around me, the candle burning low, throwing long shadows across the hide walls while I lay there turning the problem over and over in my head like a stone I couldn’t skip right.
Two women. Still frozen out there somewhere in this camp, still "won over," still waiting on a miracle I currently had zero access to perform thanks to the System’s little temper tantrum.
I needed a story. Something smooth enough to buy time, something that would hold up under Zinnia’s particular brand of scrutiny, which felt sharper than most people’s outright interrogations.
"What if i-"
That was when the tent flap moved.
Zinnia walked in first, Lily right behind her, the two of them were in the middle of a conversation in that rapid, clipped beast language I still hadn’t managed to crack even a little.
Their gestures were sharp, urgent, hands cutting through the air between them like they were negotiating something with real stakes attached.
War business, I figured. Had to be. Nothing else pulled both of them away from their usual rhythms at this hour, looking this tense.
[ZINNIA’S CURRENT MOOD: Angry.]
[LILY’S CURRENT MOOD: Frustrated.]
"Thanks for the heads up," I muttered under my breath, already sitting up straighter, already feeling the temperature in the room shift even before either of them said a word to me directly.
"Stefan Sinclair." Zinnia called out my name, sounding as formal and clipped as usual. No warmth in it at all.
I felt my stomach drop a little, because I already knew, before she said another single word, exactly what this was going to be about.
I got up slow, squared my shoulders, and stepped forward to meet her properly, doing my absolute best impression of a man who had this entire situation under control, even though every instinct in my body was screaming otherwise.
"The two women," Zinnia began, no preamble at all, no easing into it. "They must be healed tomorrow. As you already promised."
There was an edge underneath her usual calm that I hadn’t heard from her before, not even during the duel. Urgency, tightly leashed but unmistakably there, humming just under the surface of every word.
"Is something wrong? Why the urgency?" I asked, genuinely curious now, my earlier confidence slipping down a notch or two.
"You are not in a position to question me or my motives." she said, flatly each of her word landing like a small stone.
I scoffed then raise my hands up in mock surrender, though something in her tone made the gesture feel a lot less playful than I meant it.
"Right. Fair enough."
I let a beat of silence pass, watching her face, watching for any crack in that composure, and found none. Time to try a different angle, since direct clearly wasn’t going anywhere.
"You understand power," I said slowly, choosing each word like I was placing a bet. "So you’ll understand me when I say my magic’s been... putting on airs lately. It needs the right conditions to work properly and no one, not even me is in the position to question it."
Zinnia wasn’t the type to admit confusion, not out loud, not ever, I’d already learned that much about her. Instead of asking what I meant, she simply tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just a fraction.
"So what does your magic require to stop putting on airs, and perform as promised?" She asked.
My brain scrambled fast, grabbing at the first believable thing it could find.
"A change of environment. We’d need to move. Different location entirely."
I said it half-convinced she’d laugh me straight out of the tent and I would have enough time to complete the mission authority.
This camp sat far enough from anything resembling civilization that packing up an entire war camp for two frozen warriors felt like a stretch nobody in their right mind would actually consider, especially with whatever business had brought them out here in the first place clearly unfinished.
Zinnia’s answer knocked the wind clean out of that theory before I’d even finished congratulating myself on it.
"Good timing, then," she said, simple as anything. "We retreat tomorrow."
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly going dry. "Retreat. As in - back to an actual town? A real one?"
She didn’t bother confirming it directly, already moving straight past my question to the part that mattered more.
"You will be presented before the General first," she said, calm as ever, like she was discussing the weather instead of my entire fate hanging in the balance. "It will be decided then whether you accompany us to the town, or whether you are beheaded."
I gulped, loud enough that I was fairly sure she heard it clear across the tent.