Dimensional Merchant: Starting With 100 Stat Points-Chapter 131: Homecoming

Before too long, they arrived at the gates of Hiving.

The gates stood tall and sturdy as always, but something else was different about it. This time, the gates were clean, as if care had been taken to wash them in preparation for the homecoming of the warriors.

As they approached, the sound of cheering swelled from beyond the walls.

People lined the streets, men, women, and children waving cloth banners, and tossing petals into the air.

Some cried openly, while others clapped and shouted blessings to the soldiers and adventurers returning home.

Wade slowed for a moment, taking it all in.

He could smell the bakeries, hear the laughter, and feel the warmth that had been absent from the battlefield.

It was strange. After more than a week of blood and horror, to be greeted with joy felt almost unreal.

Rowan, walking beside him, managed a crooked grin. "Guess we’re heroes now," he muttered.

Wade smiled faintly. "I guess we are."

The thought was bitter, but he couldn’t deny the small flicker of warmth that grew in his chest.

For the first time since the war began, it felt like what they had done mattered, at least to someone.

The guilds didn’t appreciate it. They were much more interested in how much money they could make from the war.

The city itself couldn’t care less. To the city, the adventurers were simply hired swords to be paid off after the war was over.

But the people? They cared. They knew. And most of all, they appreciated it.

The column marched on, hooves clattering and boots striking cobblestone.

Children ran alongside, calling out questions and waving wooden swords. Old women reached out to offer bread and dried fruit to passing soldiers.

Wade accepted a piece from a wrinkled hand, bowing slightly in thanks before moving on.

The cheering guided them all the way to one of the grand courtyards before the city hall, a wide, open space flanked by marble pillars and fountains.

The mass of citizens crowded in around them, filling the plaza with noise and color.

Then, a hush fell as the city governor appeared on the raised podium.

He was a tall man in an elegant robe embroidered with gold threads, his silver hair gleaming in the sunlight.

He raised a hand for silence, his voice echoing powerfully when he spoke.

"Adventurers of Hiving! Soldiers of Vasaria!" he declared. "Today, you return as victors!"

"You have faced darkness and death itself, and you have prevailed. The monster horde that threatened our lands has been destroyed because of your courage!"

A wave of applause, cheers, and whistles rippled through the plaza.

"You have defended not just this city," the governor continued, "but every innocent life that calls Vasaria home."

"The names of those who fell will not be forgotten. They will be etched into our hearts, remembered in our histories, and honored for generations to come!"

The cheers that followed were thunderous.

Wade stood still, staring up at the man.

His chest tightened at the mention of the fallen. He thought of Sebastian, Brody, and the countless others who would never see this day.

The speech was moving, but it couldn’t fill the emptiness left behind.

When the ceremony ended, the crowd began to disperse, breaking into smaller groups.

Soldiers reunited with families. Merchants shouted offers for food and drink. The air filled again with noise and life.

Rowan stretched, wincing at his half-healed arm. "Well," he said, forcing a grin, "that was touching. I’m starving."

Wade nodded, glancing towards the guild’s direction. "Let’s head to the guild building. We should check in, report survival, find Ingrid, and maybe find out what happens next."

Rowan agreed, and together they turned away from the courtyard, stepping back into the busy streets of Hiving.

As they walked, though none mentioned it, they were both anxious. Sebastian was gone, and they hadn’t seen Ingrid since they separated here in Hiving, before the war.

She’d fought in the other wing of the army. Who knew where she was.

With hope in their hearts, Rowan and Wade pushed through the heavy doors of the guild building.

Both men made their way straight to the cafeteria, their boots echoing lightly on the stone floor., and when they entered, they froze.

Ingrid was already there, seated at their usual table. Her bow leaned casually against the chair, her quiver on the floor beside it.

She looked the same, yet different. Her usually alert eyes were tired, and her once neat braid was slightly undone.

Rowan was the first to move. "Ingrid!" he called.

Her head snapped up. For a moment, disbelief flashed in her expression before relief flooded her face. She stood quickly, meeting them halfway as they rushed to her.

"You’re alive," she breathed, her usual composed tone breaking slightly.

"So are you," Rowan said with a grin that was equal parts joy and pain.

Wade nodded, the tension leaving his shoulders. "We thought..." He didn’t finish the sentence.

They all stood there for a few seconds, unsure what to say next, until Ingrid’s voice came softly, "Where’s Sebastian?"

Rowan’s smile faded. His shoulders slumped as he met her gaze.

"He’s gone," he said quietly. "Sebastian didn’t make it."

Ingrid froze. Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

Slowly, she stumbled away and sank back into her chair, staring blankly at the table. Her hands trembled once before she steadied them on her knees.

For a long while, none of them spoke.

The noise of the cafeteria continued around them, with other adventurers eating, laughing nervously, and telling exaggerated stories of near-death experiences, but at their table, there was only silence.

Sebastian had been their anchor, their leader. Without him, it felt like the last piece of their small team had vanished.

Rowan exhaled and sat beside Ingrid. Wade took the seat across from them, his hands clasped together on the table.

They stayed that way, each one lost in thought.

Then, the doors at the far end of the cafeteria opened, and a guild handler stepped in. His crisp uniform was covered in dust, and he looked just as worn as everyone else.

"Attention, everyone!" he shouted, his voice carrying across the room. "All adventurers are to report to the guild hall tomorrow morning. Rewards for the campaign will be distributed then."

A few people cheered, and others nodded.

Wade barely heard him. His gaze was fixed on the empty seat beside Ingrid. Sebastian’s seat.

Tomorrow, there will be rewards. But tonight, there was only loss.

[][][][][]

Wade pushed his door open, the hinges creaking faintly in the dark.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, sliding the bolt in place.

For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the shadowed outline of his small apartment.

It was quiet. Way too quiet.

He sighed, lit the lantern by the door, and soft, golden light filled the room.

The glow fell over the few things that made the place his own. The kitchen table with its chairs, and the empty jars he’d bought and left on the shelf before the war.

His cloak was still hanging on the hook where he’d left it weeks ago, before marching to the ridge. Somehow, everything looked smaller now.

He moved mechanically, lighting the rest of the lanterns. Then, as if driven by habit, he fetched water, chopped a few vegetables, and began cooking.

The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filled the silence. The smell of warm stew soon replaced the still air, but it didn’t comfort him like it once did.

When the meal was ready, Wade sat down and ate slowly.

Each bite tasted dull. His body was nourished, but his mind was far from the room.

Images of the battlefield still haunted him. Sebastian’s last stand, Rowan’s yell, the smell of smoke and blood.

He pushed the bowl away halfway through and leaned back in his chair.

For a long while, he just sat there, staring at the faint flicker of the lantern flame.

The guild would be celebrating tomorrow. They’d hand out rewards, medals, and hollow words about "honor" and "duty."

And then, they’d send more adventurers to die for whatever purpose filled their ledgers next.

He clenched his fists on the table.

They called it opportunity, and sometimes freedom, but all it really was, was a contract that acted as chains. You fought when they told you to, and you died when they wished for it.

And if you refused?

You were punished. Blacklisted. Hunted.

Wade’s jaw tightened. He thought about the hundreds who’d never returned. Good people, adventurers who’d believed they were building something greater. They’d been tools, just like him.

He exhaled slowly, the words forming in his mind like a vow.

No more.

He didn’t know how, or when, or what it would cost him, but he would find a way to change it. To break the guilds’ control. To make sure adventurers had the freedom to choose their own path, their own battles.

Even if it killed him.

The thought calmed him. It gave him something to focus on, something that felt like purpose again.

He stood, beginning to clear the table, when a sudden knock filled the air.