Chapter 102: New Grudge
In Hall 1.
Samuel and Edmond, excluding Mishu, who disappeared somewhere once the fight was over at last, finally reached Moon’s room.
Moon’s belongings were laid out on the desk; as for Moon himself...
Ed’s Echo phased around Moon’s body, extracting the dust and blood traces around his body.
"All clear, I guess," he said as he laid him down on his bed.
He opened the window and tossed the ball of blood and dust outside.
Samuel watched wordlessly.
Ed raised an eyebrow. "What?" he asked.
"You’re taking unusually good care of someone," Samuel commented flatly.
"Well, I just thought... What if I happened to find a wife and settle down back then... wouldn’t I have... kids calling me grandpa around his age?" Ed said softly, with a smile on his face.
"Ancestor," Samuel corrected.
Ed thought for a moment. "More like great-great-great-grandpa?" After a moment, he added, "Don’t you get these thoughts too every once in a while?"
"I don’t want descendants like him," Samuel retorted.
"I don’t remember you being born that old," Ed mocked.
"You don’t remember when I was born?" Samuel asked sternly.
"Why not, I’m like three months older than you... erm... or was it two?" Ed tried to remember.
"Aw. Aw. Aw." They heard a voice and looked at where it came from.
Moon, who was lying down on his bed, turned around to sleep on his side.
Ed pursed his lips. "Let’s talk outside." He went out along with Samuel and closed the door behind him.
From the window Ed forgot to close, a shadow snuck into the room.
For the third time.
Outside.
"Will he make it to the next skirmish round?" Ed chugged a mouthful of beer, drying the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. "If he sleeps like he usually does, he’ll miss it."
"It’ll depend on him; I took a long time before adapting to this change or getting that trait." Samuel drank a mouthful from his oversized cup.
"If he doesn’t get it, how long would it take him to recover?" Ed asked again, considering Moon took days to recover from the beating in the skirmish ring.
"Probably longer," Samuel clarified.
"Guess the winning prize will need work." Ed wasn’t happy.
"It wasn’t announced yet; just list anything and it’d work." Samuel wasn’t concerned.
"We’ve lived long enough to cheat kids and become corrupt," Ed said jokingly, but he had something that had been pressing on his mind for a while.
"Remember that little girl?" Ed suddenly changed the subject.
"Which one?"
"The girl Moon saved a few days ago."
"What about her?"
"I feel bad about it, after seeing her again in the audience..." Ed sighed.
"The Tower is that kind of place."
"That’s not what you said back then; you looked too angry."
"Needlessly, the rules state that student conflicts are none of our business. It was a mistake on my side," Samuel admitted readily.
Ed took another chug. "Nah, it’s only because it turned out well that you’re saying that." He wiped his face before producing a couple of plates full of salted nuts.
Samuel didn’t answer; he took a sip and tossed a couple of crunchy nuts into his mouth.
"Anyway, I’ll give her something nice," Ed stated. "We can’t control life or death, but a good child like her might have had a better and more peaceful life away from this place."
The conversation went on; they spoke about many things, most of which were without an answer. But they both agreed to one thing after going back and forth.
It was the same conclusion they came to before.
Necromancers will soon find out about Moon, and they will stop at nothing to get ahold of him.
Time passed, and the darkness of the night was replaced by the golden radiance of the sunless sky.
The next morning, against all odds.
Moon opened his eyes.
His hand went for where Liquid Mountain usually was, but it wasn’t there.
In that instant, his hands went for his pillow, underneath it.
On its way, his arm twitched, bringing with it the memories of last night.
Regardless, his hand found what it was seeking; the blade he received from his last win in the skirmish was there.
He snapped it out of the sheath, bringing it closer to his face.
He looked at his eyes, the reflection the blade held of them. Tired, swollen. Dead eyes.
He let his arm fall to the side, loosening his grip.
He dropped the blade to the floor.
He felt his eyes heavy, his body in pain and discomfort.
He stared at the ceiling for a while, a very long while.
"I, who was chewed on by wolves, got bitten in half by a tree, got my head mashed by a big-ass goblin... met an old asshole who forced me to find worse pains I didn’t know could exist."
Moon lamented, unable to find comfort within his body.
And the more problematic aspect was that...
"And I even lost my mind facing this same old asshole."
His face was full of disdain, for he remembered.
He perfectly remembered what he did, and how much he was beaten instead.
Not only did he lose to someone of the same stats, but he also humiliated himself by losing his reasoning amidst combat.
His voice came out hushed and hoarse. "I will beat that bastard!" he decided.
He forced his aching body up, finding his way to the bathroom.
He needed to wash up; his body was full of scabs, making everything about how he felt in his body even more unpleasant.
After a long shower and getting dressed cleanly again, he looked at himself.
His ribs were still somewhat bruised, making breathing painful, and his eyes looked bigger than usual, puffier, to say the least.
’Would anyone ask how I got beat?’ he asked himself, before shaking his head.
’It doesn’t matter.’ He decided not to think about it.
He was awake now, so he would eat first.
He slowly found his way out of the hall, walking with heavy, demotivated steps across the facility.
"BOSS MOON!"
He heard the shouts of someone who seemed to be running at him; he didn’t turn to look at the incoming individual.
He only recognized that the person called him boss, which made him one of his underlings. But he wasn’t sure which one of them he was; he wasn’t interested in knowing for now.
He didn’t feel like his head had the capacity to be bothered with any of them.
Though, the coming individual didn’t have the slightest idea all of this was running through Moon’s mind, so his advance did not cease.
"Boss Moon, wait a moment." The incoming individual slid in front of Moon, just a couple of steps ahead.
The individual was Basil, the small cloth mask still covering his mouth.
Once their eyes met, Moon recognized the look he had and the question that came after.
He was looking at the bruises on his eyes, thus—
Moon gave him a threatening look, screaming, ’You ask, you die!’
Basil looked into Moon’s wide eyes, unevenly curved eyebrows, and clenched chin; he swallowed hard.
The urgency on Basil’s face disappeared instantly, replaced by an amiable smile. "Sorry to bother you first thing in the morning."
Moon stared at him and didn’t answer.
Feeling the pressure increase, he rushed, "Boss, I heard news that there’s a plot to take you down in the second—"
"I don’t want to know."