Once Crimson Halo climbed back onto Ao Tenshin’s shell, Martin called out to his friends in a voice far softer than the one he used during battle.
During a fight, his voice carried sharp and clean whenever a boss charged, a trap stirred, or so idiot monster decided it was a good idea to bite the tank first. Now, the calm lake almost swallowed his words before they reached the others.
"...everyone," Martin said.
Every pair of eyes turned to him.
He stood near the center of Ao Tenshin’s broad shell with one hand resting against the smooth curve beneath him. The massive turtle glided across the lake so gently that the water barely rippled around her. Ao Tenshin moved with slow, lazy dignity, as if she had already decided this entire valley belonged to her and everyone else was rely lucky enough to ride along.
Martin glanced down. His fingers tightened against the shell for a mont before he forced them to relax.
"My vision of a tank was that I’d make space for you to do your jobs," he said. "I saw myself dying first so you could finish the job."
He tried to soften that with a small chuckle, but the laugh ca out too thin to hide the weight underneath.
The girls heard the truth beneath it.
Strategy had never made Martin nervous. He could talk about aggro control, positioning, threat windows, cooldown rotations, and party survival until everyone around him either learned sothing useful or begged him to shut up. This, however, reached past chanics and into sothing far more personal: them.
"But honestly," Martin continued, "you guys really supported today. Thanks for cheering up."
There was nothing fancy about the words. He did not dress them up with a speech, pause for effect, or try to make himself look cool. He simply said what he ant, and that made the mont land harder than any dramatic line could have.
NukEncore’s smile softened first.
Chaosgraphy blinked, then looked away as if staring too long would make the scene too sincere for her taste.
For half a second, Crimson Halo’s teasing expression faded into sothing quieter and more attentive.
Kill Clause only watched him, her crimson eyes fixed on his face.
Martin drew in a breath and continued.
"But at the sa ti, we need to talk about what we want to focus on as a party. Teamplay, gaplay, and more. That way, we’ll always be ready to play together, no matter how much ti we miss because of duties in real life."
No one answered imdiately.
The soft lap of water against Ao Tenshin’s shell filled the silence, joined by the distant cries of monsters deeper in Cascade Valley.
The ga and their party seed to matter more to Martin than to anyone else. Every loss beca his responsibility. Every mistake turned into sothing he could have prevented if only he had played better, planned better, tanked better, or protected them better.
Maybe that made him too much of a nerd. Maybe anyone watching from the outside would laugh at him for taking a ga this seriously.
But this ga had changed his life.
For Chaosgraphy and the others, this ga was thrilling, beautiful, dangerous, and fun. For Martin, it had beco sothing heavier: a place where he could matter, where people relied on him, and where he no longer felt like so random guy watching life pass him by from the outside.
Only Kill Clause seed to carry sothing heavier into this ga, but even she had secrets no one could easily see through.
NukEncore bead at Martin and imdiately decided this noble idiot needed to be rescued from himself. Naturally, she prepared to use her strongest asset to steal his attention.
Usually, that would have ant her chest, but this ti, she leaned forward just shalessly enough to make Martin’s eyes nearly betray him, then chose her voice instead.
"Martinnnnn!" NukEncore stretched his na out like a seductress from Hell, sweet enough to rot teeth and wicked enough to drag a saint into trouble.
Martin’s eyes snapped to her.
She grinned as if she had won.
"When will you realize that you’re the one keeping us all together and making us work?" she said. "You’re the linchpin of this party! Whether you die first, last, or in the middle of the battle, you’ve already done more than enough! We’ll manage!"
Martin’s hands clenched again.
He wanted to argue, because the tank inside him imdiately rejected "we’ll manage" as a strategy. Hope with a cute smile did not solve positioning mistakes, failed interrupts, bad aggro pulls, or the endless list of things that could turn a clean run into a corpse parade.
Unfortunately, NukEncore was not talking about raid theory. She was talking about him, and that made her much harder to counter.
Kill Clause picked up where NukEncore left off.
"She’s correct."
That simple agreent pulled everyone’s attention toward her.
Kill Clause rarely offered comfort without sharpening it first. Her praise usually ca asured, precise, and wrapped in enough pressure to make the person receiving it stand straighter. This ti, her voice remained calm.
"Moreover," Kill Clause continued, "the reason our guild picked this place... was because of you as well."
Martin looked at her.
"You have the kind of bright future in this ga that many people dream of, and you’re snowballing that montum well," she said. "There is a real future waiting for you here. We’re sticking with you of our own accord, so don’t bla yourself. Instead, criticize us as well. You should be more honest with us."
Her words were reasonable, and her tone was controlled, yet the woman delivering them made the mont feel far less safe than it should have.
Then, much to everyone’s surprise, Kill Clause leaned forward.
The movent was small. She did not throw herself at him, giggle, or perform anything as obvious as NukEncore would have. Kill Clause was too composed for that. She only shifted her weight, rested one arm beneath her chest, and let her posture speak for her.
Her body had always carried a heavy, mature presence, the kind that made even silence feel expensive. With her crimson eyes fixed on Martin and her arm subtly lifting her chest enough to make the curve impossible to ignore, she looked less like an elite player judging a teammate and more like a dangerous woman deciding whether a man deserved to be pulled closer.
Martin’s eyes, attached to a simple man with a simple weakness, had to fight a short and brutal war to stay respectful.
Even then, her body was not what truly shook him. What caught him off guard was the interest behind her gaze, raw and personal, focused entirely on him.
"Are you holding back because we’re all won?" Kill Clause asked.
Her lips curved into a genuine smile.
"Or maybe because I’m too bossy?"
Martin froze, though not because he was shy.
After everything that had already happened with NukEncore, he knew he was not so innocent boy who would combust because a beautiful woman looked at him too directly. He knew desire, temptation, and exactly how dangerous a woman’s body could beco when paired with confidence and the will to use it.
Kill Clause unsettled him for a different reason.
She was supposed to be cold, powerful, cruel when necessary, and controlled even when everyone else lost their heads. She did not usually look at him like this. She did not usually let warmth slip through the cracks of her voice, and she did not usually ask questions that sounded less like tactical analysis and more like an invitation to step closer.
Now, her crimson eyes shimred with an interest Martin had never seen from her before.
She wanted to know him personally, not as the tank, not as the party leader, and not as a convenient future asset, but as Martin.
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