Ranna once more crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe as Amanda disappeared into the trees, her silhouette devoured by the dusk-drenched forest. The urgency of her exit hung in the air.
For a second Ranna just stood there, squinting, pondering. Then she straightened with a slow inhale.
"Well," she muttered, mostly to herself. "I should get moving, too."
Leo, still hovering by the door, raised a brow. "Something urgent?"
Ranna raised her arms above her head; her back made an audible pop. "Just some business to take care of." A smirk pulled up the corner of her lips but didn't reach her eyes.
"Someone has to make sure a certain fool doesn't bury himself even deeper."
Her eyes darted toward the tree line, beyond which—somewhere beyond the dense patch of woods.
She sighed and stepped down onto the porch.
"Cris was caught shredding the woods," she said matter-of-factly. "Lady Kurea saw it herself."
"Honestly I'm surprised she didn't freeze him into an ice sculpture right then and there."
Her voice grew a touch softer as she went on. "Cris—he was all about the adventuring, you know. Ever since he got his skill." She shook her head, a kind of wistful amusement passing across her face.
"He really thought he was going to make something of himself—leave the farm behind and join a guild, make a name for himself, maybe."
Leo didn't say anything. He just listened, seeing Ranna's expression cloud over.
"But then," she exhaled sharply, her gaze floating toward the distant woods. "Then he learned the truth. His prowess was not as strong as his aspiration. It wasn't meant for battle, and to make things worse…"
"Those stupid fools I hired to guard the farm. They—" She clicked her tongue and shook her head. "They were spending more time making fun of the kid than doing their job. Made him feel like crap for having a 'weak' skill. Called him useless. A burden."
Leo's jaw tightened.
He had never given much thought to Cris—never really wondered why the guy seemed so bitter toward him. But this…
Ranna scoffed. "And just like that, that dream was gone. And when a different way was presented to him, he dug in his heels, refused to listen to reason."
Her look darted to Leo then, incisive, inscrutable. "I tried speaking to him, you know."
Leo met her stare, silent.
"He wouldn't listen." Her voice was quieter now. "He was determined to make them wrong, so he practiced his craft on me."
Leo blinked. "On you?"
Ranna gave a humorless bark of a laugh. "Didn't work, obviously. Poor kid was devastated."
Her eyes flicked up to the door frame, her fingers tapping mindlessly against her arm. "Skills like his… ones that rely on controlling another person? They don't just work off raw mana. They depend on level and proficiency. The stronger the target, the harder it is to control them. Even if he had a ridiculous amount of mana, it wouldn't have made a difference against someone like me."
A thick silence descended between them.
Then, another sigh. "It wasn't like it helped that when he looked into it more, he learned that most adventurers who had skills similar to his didn't end up in the frontlines." There was something bordering on pity in her tone.
"They are hired as lifters at big parties. Support roles. Hauling supplies. Nothing at all like the grand adventure he'd dreamed."
Leo exhaled slowly. "That explains a lot."
"Yeah, well." Ranna shook out her shoulders and glanced at Leo again. "I understand that you two aren't on good terms, but don't take his words to heart, okay?"
Leo hesitated—then nodded. "I won't."
A smirk danced across Ranna's lips. "Good."
She turned, walking down the steps with that.
But when she got halfway down, she stopped.
"Leo."
He looked up. "Yeah?"
She didn't immediately turn around. Her arms crossed again, but now-could it be? Her posture felt heavier. As though she was measuring her words.
Then, finally—
"Now that the Orc Dominion has fallen," she turned her head slightly, allowing her face, which had been mostly shadowed, to come into view. "You need to go to the capital."
Leo blinked. "The capital?"
"At least," Ranna said, her voice lowered now, "that's what Samuel and Claire would say."
Leo stiffened. It was the names he hadn't heard in ages.
"They'd want her to go back." Ranna's voice was distant. "She's done her time here."
Leo didn't need to ask whom she meant.
Amanda.
That understanding hit him like an anchor over the chest.
Ranna looked up at the sky, her expression inscrutable.
Then she waved lazily over her shoulder and walked away, without another word.
"See you around, Leo."
Then, she was gone.
Leo stood in the doorway, watching her walk away.
The air was still now. No howling winds. No crashing trees.
Just silence.
He let out a slow breath — and shut the door behind him.
Amanda sprinted as fast as she could, her feet hardly touching the ground as she raced through the woods.
Within mere seconds, she was already running through the thick foliage.
When she got closer to her destination, she started hearing the sound of distant murmuring. Most belonged to members of the farm who had chosen to pursue the explosion. Those words went through her like air, and she walked past them, laser-focused on the area ahead.
Much to her relieved and surprised self, that ominous aura she had been so forcefully fearing the last few years was nowhere to be found. And although the mouth of the cave was intact, the rare spot where the lord's chamber had been housed was burst open.
But the sight of the cave entrance—the place that had tormented her for so long—flooded her mind with memories.
Amanda shut her eyes, and when the forest was silent once more, she was no longer at the site where Orc Dominion's torment finally ended.
She was back in the past, a world where Claire and Samuel still existed.
Amanda stared at the remnants of the Lord's chamber.
Amanda said a prayer, her voice quaking like leaves tossed by the wind. She cried in great gulps, weeping tears containing years of sorrow and regret. Her memories weighed on her, suffocating her the way they always had—until now.
"It's over," she whispered, struggling to catch her breath.
"Finally... it's over."
The burden that had weighed on her all this time removed its weight, but in its place created a vacuum—a gap that not even a victory could fill. And, while telling Claire and Samuel that her son, Leo, had grown as fierce as they, spoke to her.
A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wished that one day she could meet the one who had slain the Orc Lord and thank them herself.
Amanda was jolted from her reverie by an approaching adventurer.
"You saved a bunch of gold coins, mind you. Some unknown adventurer fulfilled your request for extermination," he said offhandedly.
Amanda was looking at him, shocked. Extermination will reward you anywhere from 10,000 to 50,000 gold coins, and at least 10 parties will need to be sent to participate.
She realized it turned out that she didn't have that kind of money and had offered herself to anyone who would take the quest. Amanda was a woman twice ruined: the first by the trashy adventurers who tried taking advantage of her situation, but Amanda had grown stronger.
She could not defeat the Orc Lord, but she could defend herself. She frequently visited the guild center repeatedly, seeking help for years, for men, for affection, but to no avail.
Still, Amanda never gave up.
Yet with the passage of years, her grief turned into a cold purpose, standing at the mouth of the Orc Dominion, she swore one day she would see it burn. She was stronger now—not only in magic but in will. No longer the terrified girl who had once lost everything.
She had fought for that moment. And even though the world had forgotten her friends, she never had—and never would.
With soldiers rushing to Amanda, Kurea came over, her presence demanded respect.
Kurea's voice rang out above the murmurs of the conscious soldiers that were gathered.
"Enough of this disgraceful behavior, you scoundrels! Have you no shred of honor?"
The soldiers shifted at her words, tossing one another glances before drifting off, humiliated and abetted.
Looking at Amanda, Kurea softened her expression, her tone suddenly kinder.
"Pay them no mind, child. They are but fools." She exhaled, then continued, "Tell me, have you ever wondered why no experienced adventurer ever attempted to take down the Orc Dominion when the threat became apparent?"
Amanda paused, then shook her head.
"The answers are within their systems," Kurea said. "System quests are handed directly to system users, and their timer compels them to move quickly. Most accept them without question, for the rewards are anything from gold to artifacts of great power."
She laughed, the look on her face going gleaming sharp. "And, of course, there are those too—fools—chasing after only that which fills their pockets and makes them stronger. If a quest provides them no benefit, they look the other way without a second thought."
Then, with a wholly unexpected sigh, Kurea's voice went soft. "Forgive me, dear one," she said. "Even I could do nothing against the Orc Dominion. A mere level 50 boss is one thing, but a Dominion Lord… that is a force beyond me."
Amanda inhaled sharply as embarrassment washed over her. Lady Kurea... apologizing? To me?
She bowed her head slightly and felt her face blaze. It wasn't just that Kurea was a system user—it was that she was leagues ahead of Amanda in strength, status, and know-how. And yet here she was, apologizing as if she had done her wrong.
"It's really alright, Lady Kurea. Please don't apologize!" No," Amanda said quickly, waving her hands in flustered denial. "You are under no obligation to fight my wars; It was my burden to bear, not yours."
Kurea gave a small laugh, charmed by Amanda's response. "Oh-ho, but sweetie, don't you see? Even if one is not obliged to, some burdens deserve to be shared. You had fought valiantly, but the world looked the other way. That is a cruelty I can't abide."
Amanda bit her lip as she felt her self-consciousness grow. And here she was, so much herself, one who endured for years without visible results, and Lady Kurea—a woman of prominence, a woman of power, a woman of rare stature—was acknowledging her efforts. It was a lot, and she didn't know how to react.
"T-thank you," she finally managed, lowering her head, her face still flushed with embarrassment.
She tapped the staff against the ground; at once, Kurea smirked. "There, that wasn't so hard, now was it?"
Amanda nodded slightly in thanks to her.
Kurea appraised her for a moment before continuing, intrigue in her voice.
"If you seek the adventurer responsible for this feat, I fear you shall find no trace of them here." She glanced toward the devastation with a knowing look. "Yet, I, too, am curious. To wield such power, If this was truly the work of another system user, then they are unlike any I have encountered before."