"The way you look at things… it's actually kind of refreshing."
Surtr blinked, then gave a smile she herself couldn't quite describe.
To be honest, she'd never once considered Steven's perspective before.
Those mories she couldn't tell apart—truth or illusion, hers or soone else's—she had always found them nothing but troubleso. Yet in soone else's eyes, could they really be… fascinating?
For the first ti, she thought back on her own rambling stories. Then, almost despite herself, she let out a small laugh.
Compared to the novels sold in bookshops, didn't her "mories" sound stranger… and far more legendary?
"Yeah. The real point is whether these experiences help you, or hurt you. Whether they'll cause you trouble going forward—that's what matters, right? If they're just… there? Then co on, that's cool as hell."
Steven shot her a thumbs-up, grinning.
Her so-called "mories" included things even he hadn't yet experienced. Perfect additions to his own bucket list.
As for how Surtr herself felt about them… well, that wasn't sothing he could decide. That was her business alone. He was an outsider—at most, all he could do was listen.
Still, as soone who had endured all sorts of modded nightmares, he could at least empathize a little.
His own mories were piled up in his consciousness too, a clutter that—without so kind of system to organize them—could definitely beco a burden.
Of course, unlike him, she didn't have centuries of downti to slowly sort through them, laying each piece of mory neatly outside her mind like a fortress wall.
"'Cool as hell,' huh? That's really the word you're going with…?" Surtr gave an exasperated sigh, but soon her lips curved into a more genuine smile. "Well… I guess you're right. Legendary enough that even I feel like I'm bragging when I say it out loud."
She exhaled, then straightened, as if a weight had finally lifted.
Her mood had lightened, brightened—as though opening up had let so of the shadows spill away.
It was true, wasn't it?
Sharing one's troubles with a friend could be surprisingly fun—and relieving, too.
Maybe the hollow feeling she'd carried through her journey, that sense that sothing was missing… maybe today, she'd found the answer.
"Well then, I've had my turn. Now it should be yours, shouldn't it? You call yourself a traveler too, so what kind of tales do you have? I'm curious."
The ice cream was nearly gone, but the liquor had flowed steadily with it. By now, Surtr's cheeks glowed with a rosy flush that hinted at more than just the firelight. Even so, she clutched her bottle stubbornly, nudging Steven's shoulder with a teasing push.
Clearly, she wasn't letting him off without sharing.
", huh? If I start talking, my stories might be even more… abundant than yours. So abundant, in fact, I don't even know where I'd begin."
Steven chuckled, handing her the half-finished sunflower head as he rose to his feet. His brows arched as though a realization had finally clicked into place.
"I think… I get it now. The way you felt earlier. The reason those mories weigh on you."
There was simply too much to say. So much that Steven had no idea where to even begin.
In more ways than one, he really did share quite a few similarities with her.
"Then just pick sothing at random," Surtr pressed, her words starting to slur ever so slightly as the alcohol worked its way through her. "Like… where did you go after flying that aircraft? What happened along the way? Or even—how did you end up fighting that thing? Any of those would make a good story, wouldn't they?"
Having finished her ice cream, she had now crossed her legs the way Steven had earlier, cracking open sunflower seeds with a rather serious expression.
The gesture left most of her pale, slender thighs exposed to the firelight, yet she showed not the slightest trace of embarrassnt.
"Well now… that could get interesting."
Steven chuckled, scratching his head, before giving it a shot—summarizing, in his own way, the things he had experienced since arriving in this world.
"I once fought side by side with the Abyssal Hunters of Ægir… and then later, took on their entire group alone—held all three of them down single-handedly."
"I also saw the impoverished villagers of Iberia, broken by the Profound Silence. People who traded away their kin—sacrificed or even betrayed their own kind—just for a scrap of food."
"And that Kazimierz you ntioned? I just ca back from there. Ended up ruining one of their centuries-old tournants, actually. Looking back, I have to admit—I handled it way too rashly. Even I'm not satisfied with how it turned out."
His tone was calm, almost like he was grading his own report card, casually evaluating his past actions. Yet when he got to Kazimierz, a faint trace of regret slipped into his voice.
"…But, well, what's done is done. Besides—don't forget, I'm also the reigning champion of Rhodes Island's Annual Super Swivel Chair Racing Championship. An elite operator—at least in na. Grannies friend, the Riddler's bane, Ms. Blood's accomplice, the muscled-croc girl's conqueror… and, most importantly, Rhodes Island's most reliable supplier."
He rattled off the nicknas like a restaurant waiter reciting dishes from the nu, laughing halfway through his own list.
Only then did it hit him—he, too, had already made so many mories in this world. So many titles, so many absurd little marks left behind. Sohow, it really was… kind of fun.
"Just listening to you, I can already tell—you've lived a much more exciting life than ."
Surtr's eyes softened as she looked at him.
She hadn't expected his experiences to be this rich, this colorful.
She couldn't tell if he was exaggerating or not, but honestly—it didn't matter.
Because as he spoke, Steven's face carried a smile. And wasn't that enough?
Just as he himself had said—if recalling those mories brought joy and amusent, then why should the question of truth or falsehood even matter?
The past was the past. It couldn't change the future. Rather than agonize over it, wasn't it better to focus on the present—on creating new mories worth smiling over tomorrow?
"Haha! As long as you don't think I'm just bragging, that's good enough. See? I'm no less of a traveler than you. I can't afford to lose to you in this, after all."
Steven laughed heartily, raising another bottle of liquor on a whim and draining half of it in one go.
Honestly, what could be better than swapping stories like this with soone who felt like a kindred spirit? Everything he'd been through, everything he'd seen—wasn't it all for monts like this?
Surtr, watching his smug, self-satisfied grin—as if he'd just scored so great victory—couldn't help but raise her own bottle and clink it against his again.
"I'll never understand that weird competitive streak of yours… Fine, fine, let's just say you win."
Shaking her head with a helpless smile, she suddenly rembered sothing. The root she'd set by the fire at the start—sothing like a sweet potato—had long since finished roasting, filling the air with a faintly sweet, starchy aroma.
She set down her bottle and picked up the stick, blowing on the steaming root until it cooled a little. Then she snapped it cleanly in half and handed one piece to Steven.
"The most popular food in the slums of Ursus. They call it a 'bitter yam.' It's nothing compared to your fancy snacks, but… it's the only thing I have to share. Want to try it?"
The so-called bitter yam looked rough and blackened on the outside. Her roasting skills were clearly lacking, and with a na like that, it was hard to imagine it tasting good. The sll carried not just roasted starch, but also a hint of char.
Even so, Steven accepted it with an eager grin. He blew on it, then bit off a piece that hadn't burnt through.
At first, bitterness flooded his mouth—sharp and unpleasant. But after a mont ca the sweetness unique to starch, followed by the smoky fragrance of the fire.
No, it couldn't be called delicious. But it was filling, and filling ant survival. To the poor, that was more precious—and more satisfying—than flavor.
"Well? Not great, right? Doesn't it feel unworthy of that bottle of wine of yours? But this really is the only thing I have to offer. Don't underestimate it, though—I worked hard to find sothing that could actually fill my stomach."
Surtr laughed at his expression.
Of course she knew how it tasted. But, as she said, this was all she had to share. And for Steven, that was enough.
Maybe it was because they really did have so many things in common, but she found herself understanding him far better than she expected. It was probably why she'd even thought to share sothing like this with him at all.
Perhaps… in so sense… they could be called each other's "understander."
< >
Note:
Grannies friend: The Grannies are the old Elite Operator in Rhodes Island
The Riddler's bane: The Riddler is Kal'tsit
Ms. Blood's accomplice: Ms. Blood is Warfarin
The muscled-croc girl: This one is Gavial
< >
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
sdrive.google/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
< >
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind spending $5 monthly to see till the latest chapter, please go to my Ko-Fi1
Latest Chapter in Ko-Fi: Chapter 426: Do You Even Hear What You're Saying?1
Link to the latest chapter: sko-fi/post/Arknightcraft-Modpack-426-Y8Y61PUP081
sko-fi/stevetheminecrafter1
sko-fi/stevetheminecrafter
sko-fi/post/Arknightcraft-Modpack-426-Y8Y61PUP08
sko-fi/post/Arknightcraft-Modpack-426-Y8Y61PUP08
sko-fi/stevetheminecrafter
User Comments
0 comments from readers