Wail and Lightchaser landed and split apart with perfect coordination. Lightchaser imdiately darted toward the direction where she had seen a The chanoids unit fleeing through the air.
She caught up in no ti, only to find that the fleeing chanoid now had two other chanoids with it.
Rita was still desperate to run. Those two Vineborne who had been dragged into this ss weren’t foolish enough to stay behind and wait for death, but they were also unwilling to let BS-Rita set them up without retaliation. They followed close behind as she fled.
Lightchaser took one sweeping glance, locked onto the one with the lowest HP, then ignored it completely and charged straight at the two sturdier chanoids instead—kill the hardest first.
The air filled with bursts of spell detonations and the clash of weapons. Rita dodged shockwaves while silently counting how long Lightchaser would need to finish off the Vineborne. Just as she was about to instruct Y128 to activate Romantic Tourist, she suddenly heard Lightchaser’s voice.
It was hoarse—an unusual sound coming from her.
"Can you revive after being killed?"
Rita froze.
She turned her head. The little assassin spirit was still striking efficiently, blades flashing as she warded off Dawn Spring Guest’s attacks. She looked battered, clearly injured by the strange abilities of various Player Relics. But her exhaustion didn’t co from the wounds on her body.
It ca from her eyes—those tense, shadowed eyes.
For the first ti, Rita saw Lightchaser look like this.
She couldn’t describe the emotion. It wasn’t sothing Lightchaser should ever show.
When the spirit didn’t get an answer, she asked again. Her gaze flickered repeatedly to the empty slot atop the cube-shaped chanoid head—where the player should be. She could not see or hear them, so she had no choice but to ask the tiny robot perched there.
The small machine beside Dawn Spring Guest answered, "We can."
A visible tension eased from Lightchaser’s expression. The next second, Dawn Spring Guest’s chanoid body collapsed, and Lightchaser imdiately turned on the next high-HP chanoid.
Y128 whispered, "Should we go now?"
Rita’s voice was strained. "Wait. Just wait a little longer..."
She understood the reason behind that question instantly.
Lightchaser asked because her student was in this ga.
Lightchaser never hesitated during a kill. Yet she feared that if her student died here, she would et the sa irreversible death as the hunters.
The ga had gone on too long for this to be re coincidence. She would never lie to herself like that.
Her grip had always been steady, her strikes cold and resolute.
But when Lightchaser switched targets, she asked again:
"Can you revive after being killed?"
"We can!"
"Then why ask again?!"
Why ask again and again?
She already knew the answer.
She never repeated herself.
Rita ca to an abrupt stop, staring at Lightchaser like an idiot frozen at the worst possible mont in a horror movie.
By the ti Lightchaser killed Dawn Echo and turned to look at her—
Y128 triggered Romantic Tourist.
In an instant they teleported to a landmark they’d saved earlier.
But the question did not leave them behind.
Barely a second after landing, another voice spoke—gentler, but also hoarse with strain:
"Can you revive after being killed?"
"NO! You killed your own student!"
Ash Cinders’ massive blade ca down.
A chanoid fell. Ash Cinders turned, fury burning in her gaze.
At that mont, Rita saw everything she needed to.
They asked again and again because players differed. chanoids differed. So would lie for fun, so to tornt hunters.
One word—cannot—and would they hesitate?
Would a "cannot" stop them? Would it make them falter before the kill?
If death was inevitable anyway, why not use a single answer to wound your enemy?
Thus Lightchaser and Ash Cinders asked repeatedly, each denial overthrowing every affirmation before it.
Their souls had been split into two halves:
one half relentlessly butchering every enemy,
the other desperately begging for the truth.
Whether the answer was yes or no—what difference did it make?
Would they abandon the mission?
Would they stop killing?
No.
So they kept asking.
And every ti, it hurt them.
Since when had her teachers... beco so unsure of themselves?
Ash Cinders charged. Y128 used the last Romantic Tourist imdiately.
After landing, Y128 nervously peeked at Rita.
In response, Rita yanked up her sleeve and roughly wiped her face. Then she looked around, confirming no enemies nearby. She dropped into a crouch—Y128 obeyed instantly—lowering its cube-body so her left hand could reach the soft sand.
With her fingertips, she wrote a sentence in Isolated Isle script:
Teacher, I can revive.
A simple, clumsy line.
And behind it, she added a crude smiling face: ^_^
She stood and said with a soft smile, "Let’s go."
It was a smile Y128 had never seen on her before.
It wasn’t her affectionate smile at L175246.
Not the gentle smile when she picked out new antennae for them.
Not her cold, irritated smirk at Dawn-Cicada.
This smile was peaceful.
Soft.
Happy—almost foolishly so.
Y128 had seen the snow country inside her Player Relic, yet now it felt as if that snowy world had lted into two clear lakes reflected in her eyes.
People said she was the Adjudicator of BS—yet in this mont, she looked like...
Like L175246, sitting at the town gate hugging a pile of broken capsule-toys and grinning like an idiot not long ago.
She took Y128’s arm and ran on.
Behind them, the desert wind blurred the line she wrote.
It didn’t matter.
Every ti they ran a little farther, she wrote it again.
Unable to stay long in any spot, dodging every sound of battle, running in crooked little paths—sotis even skipping. Y128 awkwardly mimicked her bouncing steps.
She didn’t know how many tis Lightchaser and Ash Cinders had asked that question.
But she would answer it each ti.
In the desert, she left behind line after line:
Teacher, I can revive.
Y128 silently stayed beside her.
Sotis it added a smiling face beside her words.
It no longer ntioned severance pay, settlents, or soulfire.
Those things suddenly felt very far away.
User Comments
0 comments from readers