The Author's Viewpoint-Chapter 71 - Sword in Her Right Hand

Well... the demoness was a nightmare. A creature steeped in fire and fury, able to summon endless waves of skeletal warriors at will. She was relentless, unpredictable, and devastating. A true boss-level monster.

But thankfully, they had Orion.

With his blazing aura and now-unlocked by his Gaia Master abilities, he became a walking inferno. His sweeping area attacks incinerated entire squads of summoned skeletons before they could even reach the team. His fire didn’t just burn. It devoured, erased, and crushed the tide of undead that surged toward them again and again.

Meanwhile, Tave and the others unleashed a relentless barrage magic attack, creating a perfect storm that overwhelmed the demoness. The elemental onslaught crashed into her defenses, dousing her flames, shattering her barriers, and freezing her movements in place.

Fire was powerful. But fire could be drowned.

And the moment her summons were neutralized and her elemental advantage stripped away, she became vulnerable. Wide open.

And that’s when Orion struck.

With a burst of speed and power that shook the entire chamber, he charged through the last curtain of smoke and flame. His sword, now blazing like a fragment of the sun itself, cleaved through the air. And found its mark.

A single, decisive strike.

The blade sliced through the demoness’s neck. Her final scream twisted into silence as her form was engulfed in light and turned to ash.

Silence followed.

And then... the chamber shifted. The oppressive energy lifted, the red hue faded, and the mana crystals dimmed to a soft glow.

For a moment, no one moved.

Then they did. Slowly, shakily, breath by breath. Weapons lowered. Spells faded. Bodies slumped against walls. Some dropped to their knees, others just sat where they stood, hearts pounding.

"We... did it," someone whispered.

"We survived!"

A deep, relieved sigh echoed through the space.

"I thought we were screwed," Elias muttered, wiping blood from his cheek.

Orion let out a loud, almost manic laugh. "I told you fire solves everything!"

"Yeah, yeah... sure, Flame Boy," Oriana replied with a tired grin.

They had won.

Not just the battle.

They had defied a demon, crushed her army, and walked away together.

And for now... that was everything.

From the center of the chamber, a soft light began to glow. Faint at first, then intensifying until it bloomed into a radiant beam. Within it, a treasure chest slowly materialized, resting on a small pedestal of stone. Not far from it, a swirling vortex of energy formed. It was an exit portal.

Yes. Their reward.

The treasure... and the way out of the rift.

But despite the excitement, none of them moved at first. They were too exhausted, physically, mentally, and completely drained. Some laughed quietly as they collapsed onto the floor, backs against walls, limbs sprawled out. Smiles stretched across tired faces. They had done it.

They had completed this rift expedition.

After a while, with aching bodies and slow steps, they began to rise again. Oriana was the first to approach the treasure chest. She opened the lid with both hands. Inside, nestled among a faint red glow, were a fire shield, a fire helmet, a flame-coated dagger, and several glowing monster cores.

Unfortunately, the demoness’s body had been consumed entirely by flame upon her death. Leaving behind nothing that could be harvested. No rare loot. No trophy remains.

Oriana studied the contents for a moment, her expression calm but thoughtful.

"None of these are a fit," she finally said. "Not for us. The elements and weapon types don’t match any of our loadouts."

She stood and addressed the team. "I’ll put the equipment up for auction. As for the monster cores, you’re free to take what you need. Whatever remains, I’ll sell and divide the earnings fairly."

Everyone nodded. No one questioned her judgment. They all understood how this worked. Especially after everything they’d been through.

Tave stepped forward and collected about twenty monster cores from Lily. Tier 3. High-value. He selected those attuned to fire and dark elements, and slipped them into his storage ring carefully. The rest? He would take his share once the sale was done, most likely in coin.

There was no celebration left to be had.

Only relief.

And the quiet satisfaction of a victory hard-earned.

One by one, they stepped through the swirling portal. Emerging from the rift and into the open world once again.

Their feet sank gently into the warm sand of a vast desert plain. The sky painted in shades of amber and deep gold as the sun dipped low on the horizon. The heat of the day was fading, replaced by the cooler winds of evening.

Waiting near the rift’s edge were several units of soldiers, ready to respond should anything come crawling out behind them. But when they saw the eight figures appear, battle-worn yet standing, their postures relaxed.

Among the crowd were families and friends. Gathered in anxious clusters, faces filled with hope and worry.

That was when a figure began approaching Tave and Lily from across the sands. Broad-shouldered, armored, and unmistakable. Logan, the Knight Commander. His cloak rippled behind him, and his thick beard was dusted with grit from the desert wind. More than that, he was their father.

"Father..." Lily said.

She broke into a run and threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. Logan didn’t say a word at first. He simply wrapped his arms around her.

Tave approached with a quiet smile, slower but no less present. He met his father’s gaze, and Logan gave him a nod of recognition.

"You both did well," Logan said.

Tave didn’t answer at first. He only nodded, slowly. His gaze briefly shifted to Lily’s injured arm. But he said nothing. That explanation could wait. There would be time for it later.

For now, they were home. And they were alive.

***

The days that followed the rift expedition felt like a weight lifting off Tave’s shoulders. Finally, the crushing pressure of battle and constant vigilance gave way to silence. And exhaustion. After two relentless weeks of fighting, bleeding, and surviving on the edge of death, Tave finally allowed himself to completely collapse.

He slept.

For two straight days.

Well... not entirely. He woke up occasionally to eat, drink, and then fell back into the comforting void of sleep again.

When he finally stirred for real, it was to the gentle sound of a familiar pawstep. Fang sat at the edge of the bed, watching him quietly, tail flicking once before stepping forward with a soft woof.

"Hi, Fang..." Tave murmured, stretching slightly before reaching out to pat the creature’s head. "You did a good job watching over me while I slept. How’s Lily?"

Woof. Woof.

Fang’s calm tone and relaxed stance told him everything was fine. No trouble. No nightmares. Just rest. Well-earned, and uninterrupted.

Tave exhaled, letting himself feel how much better he truly was. His body, once drained to the brink, felt steady again. The recovery had come faster than expected, and he knew it was thanks to Kaelira’s aura. Its regenerative properties had worked wonders, even when his soul felt like it had been scraped raw.

He got up, cleaned himself off, changed into fresh clothes, and made his way downstairs. Sunlight poured through the windows, warm and golden, marking it as midday.

In the kitchen, Lily was already there. Moving about quietly, setting plates and preparing what looked like a full meal. More than usual. The smell alone made his stomach growl.

Was their father joining them today?

Without thinking, Tave stepped forward to help her set the table.

But Lily caught the motion and shot him a look. "It’s already done. Don’t act like you’re helping," she said, brushing him off casually.

"You should give your big brother a chance to look a little more... useful, you know," he said quietly.

"We won’t survive the Rift Expedition without you," she replied without hesitation. "Try being a little prouder of yourself."

Oh. A compliment. From Lily?

That was new.

But as Tave looked at her, something inside him twisted. Seeing her like this... steady, composed, yet clearly strained, brought a dull ache to his chest.

Even so, she was managing everything with just her left hand. Every motion was controlled. Intentional. But steady.

She was doing just fine. She always did.

Some time later, the soft creak of the front door echoed through the house, followed by the sound of steady footsteps. Tave and Lily both glanced up just as their father stepped into the room.

Logan entered calmly. He wore his usual armor, though slightly loosened, and for once, a rare, soft smile tugged at the edge of his rugged face.

Lily caught his gaze as he approached the table. Without a word, Logan placed a small box down near the plates of food.

"Lily," he said, "I brought you a gift."

"Father! What are you doing?!" Lily exclaimed, half startled.

"Oh! Sorry, sorry!" Logan chuckled awkwardly, quickly scooping the box back up with both hands. "I didn’t mean to ruin the table."

He turned it slightly and held it out to her properly. "Look. A gift. For you."

Lily stepped closer, her brow raised.

Logan opened the box slowly... and inside, nestled in soft cloth, was something silver.

A glove.

Lily glanced back up at Logan, uncertain.

"With this glove," he said gently, "you’ll still be able to wield your sword with your right hand."

A long breath escaped her lips. For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a quiet, grateful hug.

Tave, watching from across the table, couldn’t help but smile.

Yes... he would return Lily’s strength. Her right hand.

And eventually, he’d reclaim his own. His first Core.