The silence deepened, as if the forest itself held its breath. The counselor flinched and turned sharply.
"Anna," he said firmly, but not unkindly. "That was out of line. We came here to talk, not pass judgment."
Anna held her arms tighter across her chest. Her jaw was set, proud, and cold.
"Someone has to say it. Just because he's made a few enchanted toys, people are starting to forget what kind of person he really was. They act like he's some misunderstood genius. He knows exactly what he's doing, making everyone beg for his attention now."
Her voice was clipped. Controlled. Too controlled...
Jericho's lips pressed together. But then, he smiled and let out a breathless, humorless chuckle.
"Well... that settles it then."
The counselor blinked.
"Settles what?"
Jericho turned to his door, voice flat.
"I'll keep doing things my way. Quietly. It won't interfere with the academy, and if it really does bother you all that much... you're free to expel me. For good this time."
He reached for the handle.
"Jericho, wait," the counselor stepped forward. "You don't have to isolate yourself. That's not what anyone wants. I understand students like you—misunderstood, sometimes brash, but talented. You've been through a lot. And we've let some things slip through the cracks, that's true. But this doesn't have to be the path you stay on."
Jericho didn't look back. His hand remained on the door.
"It's not a path. It's a quiet little hole I dug myself into, and it's working just fine. See? I'm not running away, I'm facing the consequences. Just not the way you wanted it."
The counselor sighed softly and looked toward Anna with a disappointed expression.
"Anna, that was too far. You should apologize."
She blinked, slightly taken aback. Her expression faltered for a moment before she straightened her posture and crossed her arms more tightly.
"I'm not trying to be cruel," she said, quieter this time. "But we have more urgent concerns right now. Miners have been reported missing near the eastern ridge, and there's something wrong on campus. This should be our priority."
Jericho paused at his door. He didn't look back, but his hand froze briefly on the handle.
Miners... Campus?
Without a word, he stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind him.
The counselor watched the door for a moment before letting out a long breath.
"That... could have gone better."
Anna looked to the side, brows furrowed.
"You were too gentle with him."
"And you were supposed to guide him, not judge him. You're the student council president. That role comes with responsibility."
She shifted uncomfortably, her pride keeping her voice steady.
"That doesn't mean I have to believe everything he does is sincere."
Inside, Jericho leaned against the closed door. His mind raced.
"Miners disappearing... That's the Firewell Bandits arc. It should've triggered already. But student tension? That's... the Forgotten Fountain."
He stepped toward his desk, pacing.
"Both arcs. At once? That's not how it goes. In the game, one triggered before the other. Either to help players prep or divert them."
He sat heavily in his chair, thinking about the story.
In Alchemia Tale, the plot structure had diverging paths. Your route determined how the story flowed, and the girl you pursued altered the quest order.
Pick Lena? You'd get the traditional timeline. Story progression flowed naturally.
Pick Cassandra? You'd get additional trial quests. Her route was high-risk, with brutal tests, and a potential bad ending unless you turned her around by the final act.
Pick Stella? The focus shifted to student politics, social events, and town-based quests. Combat took a back seat.
Pick Hilda? You entered hard mode. Fewer quests early, more training, more power. You rolled over content—until the end, where everything hit harder.
He rubbed his temples.
"So... if both arcs are firing now, but the first hasn't resolved... Does that mean Shin's on the Hilda route? But that doesn't make sense... He didn't even..."
But then... A soft snore.
He frowned. Slowly, he glanced toward his bed.
Hilda was curled up there, one leg draped lazily over the side, breathing softly in deep sleep.
Jericho stared at her for a long moment, expression caught somewhere between disbelief and resigned irritation.
"...The audacity of this girl."
An owl hooted as the last light of the sun faded behind the treetops.
Inside Jericho's cabin, the air was warm, the scent of herbs and faint woodsmoke mixing peacefully.
Hilda sat at the small table, dozing lightly. She wore simple, comfortable clothes—a sleeveless tunic and soft cotton pants.
Her disciplinary committee coat hung over the back of the chair.
Her long hair was down and slightly tangled, falling over her shoulders in waves.
She stirred slightly, lifting her cup with a half-conscious motion.
"You're getting better at this," she murmured. "The tea. It's nice."
Jericho sat across from her, studying her as he held his own cup. The system flickered briefly in his vision:
Soothing Forest Tea
Buffs: +15% Stamina Recovery
Effects: Moderate Stress Reduction, Mild Mood Boost
Duration: 1 Hour
He looked at the cup, then back at her.
"Yeah. I know how to use ingredients right."
A long pause followed. The warmth of the tea clung to his fingers, but something about her presence filled at his thoughts.
"So... why here again?" he asked, keeping his tone casual.
Hilda took another sip before answering.
"I was patrolling nearby. Decided to rest a bit."
"Again," he noted. "That makes three times this week."
She nodded.
"It's quiet here. Peaceful. Your house feels... good. It helps."
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Helps how?"
She tilted her head.
"I wake up less tired. I don't know if it's the bed or the air or the tea, but I feel better here. That's all."
Jericho sat back, frowning thoughtfully. Of course she did. The cabin passively buffed rest and stamina regen.
He remembered how her character always overworked herself in the game. She was famous for being strong, responsible, and constantly exhausted.
Her loss against Shin in the final arc had sparked arguments, some saying she could've won if she'd just rested.
Looking at her now, he understood. Even now, she seemed on the edge of collapsing into sleep.
His house was the perfect counter to her fatigue.
It was a mechanic he'd layered in piece by piece, never thinking someone else would benefit from it.
Still, her visits nagged at something in him.
"And you don't care what you risk coming here?"
Hilda looked at him, puzzled.
"What do you mean?"
"You know who I am. Jericho Van Ashenval. The walking scandal. A predator. A threat. Are you sure it's smart to keep coming here alone?"
She didn't even hesitate.
"I know what they say. But I prefer make my own judgment."
He leaned in slightly, waiting for more, she noticed it, so she forced herself to fully awaken.
"The first time I came here I was on duty with the committee," she said calmly. "We checked everything. You didn't hide anything. You weren't suspicious. Just... detached. Like none of it mattered to you."
Jericho gave a humorless laugh.
"So... I have nothing to win from that now? That's what makes me safe?"
"No," she said. "You're not threatening. That's different. I didn't feel unsafe then, and I don't now."
He stared at her. He wanted to challenge it, to push her away, but her gaze didn't waver.
"It's strange... I don't remember anyone ever reacting that way. Even before. I got so used to this treatment that it became normal to me."
"Maybe you just stopped expecting better," she said quietly.
That made him pause. He looked away.
"You're not crying, are you?" she asked.
He shook his head in surprise.
"Not anymore."
She nodded, unfazed.
"Want to top mine off?"
He poured more for her, carefully steadying the pot. The warmth felt grounding.
"Thanks," she said, sipping again. "Still good."
He glanced at her cup. Then at her.
"You're weird, you know that? Not like I expected."
"Probably," she said. "Because I trust my instincts. You haven't given me any reason to be afraid."
Jericho studied her face. For once, he saw no disgust, no hesitation. Just calm. She wasn't ignorant of his reputation, but it didn't matter to her.
"You're not worried I'll put something in your tea?"
Hilda raised an eyebrow.
"If you did, I'd break you even in sleep."
He blinked, then laughed a little.
"Fair enough."
She smiled faintly.
"But honestly, I never got that vibe from you. You feel... far away from everyone. Like you're on your own island. That doesn't scare me. It just feels... quiet."
He stared into his tea, emotions stirring. Gratitude. Sadness. Relief. All tangled.
"It's weird. This might be the first time someone just... Saw me as a human. Maybe it was a good thing to come here at last as... Like this."
Hilda didn't respond at first. Then she said softly.
"We all choose what kind of person we want to be around others. And we choose what we believe."
He nodded slowly.
She stood and grabbed her coat.
"Alright, time for patrol."
Jericho stayed seated.
She looked at him over her shoulder.
"People will talk. Let them. You decide who you are next. By the way, if you don't come often to the academy, it means you have more free time. So what about trying new tea recipes?"
He gave a smile.
"More? You've drunk enough tea for free now, and you ask for more?"
She turned to him, then, in a rare display, she smiled. A real smile.
"Maybe. But I also patrol here nightly. That's like a free guard. You kind of owe me."
Jericho chuckled.
"Guess I should cook dinner tomorrow too, then."
She paused.
"Dinner?"
He blinked. Then he realized what he just said to the worst person.
"I—I mean as a joke. Don't take it..."
"If your cooking's as good as your tea, then I want to try it."
Jericho paused and stared in surprise.
"You're serious?"
She nodded.
"Same time tomorrow. For dinner, I mean. I should come earlier for a rest."
She opened the door and stepped out. He followed to the threshold.
"Good night."
He saluted her in return and watched her disappear into the trees.
Then, he closed the door and stood immobile for seconds, before turning around, whispering to himself:
"...Damn."