Danmachi: The Counter-Guardian

Author: My arms are better now, they are almost 100%. Now, I can write again. Enjoy the chapter.

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Altair and Bell left the Guild after completing the exchange of magic stones. Both were carrying bags full of Valis, the metallic gleam of the coins reflecting the sunlight of Orario. Their first dungeon dive had been an absolute success. They managed to accumulate 400,000 Valis, an impressive amount for Level 1 adventurers in the upper floors. Divided equally, each received 200,000 Valis, a feat that left Bell ecstatic.

As they walked through the bustling streets, Altair kept a calm expression, clearly accustomed to situations like this. Bell, on the other hand, could barely contain his smile. He glanced at his bag with a mix of excitement and pride.

"Wow," Altair commented casually, placing his money into his [Subspace Inventory]. "On our first dungeon run, we managed to earn a decent amount. Not bad for rookie adventurers, huh?"

"Yes!" Bell replied, still excited but hesitant. "But, Mr. Altair... I'd like to give you some compensation for all your help today. You saved me several times and even fought the Minotaur on your own."

Altair stopped and turned to the young man, crossing his arms as he displayed a carefree smile. "Don't even think about it, Bell. That money is for the Hestia Familia. We need to make sure our goddess has everything she needs, right?"

Bell hesitated but eventually nodded in agreement. He knew Altair was right. Even so, he felt like he owed something to his companion, who always seemed one step ahead, both in skill and leadership.

"Besides," Altair continued, starting to walk again, "I've got plans to use part of that money later. Don't worry, I'll put it to good use."

Bell followed him, still curious about one thing. "Sir Altair, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why didn't you sell the Minotaur's magic stone? It's probably worth a fortune, and with that, we could have even more resources."

Altair paused for a moment, casting a brief but meaningful glance at Bell. He smiled enigmatically before replying. "I'm holding onto that stone for now. Trust me, it's better this way. After all, it's not exactly normal for a level 1 adventurer to defeat a Minotaur, right?"

Bell frowned for a moment, considering Altair's words. The answer was obvious, but he needed to hear it to fully understand. "I see. If someone finds out, it could draw a lot of unwanted attention."

"Exactly," Altair responded, lightly tapping Bell's shoulder. "Sometimes, it's not just about what we get in the dungeon, but how we use what we have wisely. That stone will come in handy eventually, just not right now."

Altair stopped walking again and turned to face Bell, his serious expression indicating he was about to address something important. He pointed at the dagger Bell carried at his waist, shaking his head slightly in disapproval.

"Now, Bell, we have a few things we need to address," Altair declared, crossing his arms and looking directly at the young man. "The first is your weapon."

Bell blinked, confused, and glanced at his dagger. "What's wrong with my weapon?"

Altair sighed, pointing at the worn blade. "It's useless for your style. Watching you in the dungeon, it was clear that your combat efficiency is much lower using just one dagger. Your natural style is dual-wielding, isn't it?"

Bell was surprised by the observation but eventually nodded, scratching his head in slight embarrassment. "Y-yeah! I used to play with two sticks as a kid. I always felt more comfortable using two 'swords' at the same time."

"That explains a lot," Altair remarked, tilting his head slightly as he mentally analyzed Bell's movements in the dungeon. "You have reflexes and instincts that favor dual-blade combat. Using just one is holding back your potential."

"But... this is all I have," Bell said, looking at the dagger with a mix of resignation and affection. It was the only weapon he'd had since he started as an adventurer.

Altair touched his chin, thoughtful. "I see. Well, your current dagger won't last much longer. It's worn out, and against stronger monsters, it'll break after just a few strikes. We need to get you something better."

Bell hesitated, still holding the dagger as if reluctant to part with it. "Do you really think using two daggers would make that much of a difference?"

"Absolutely," Altair replied firmly. "Two blades wouldn't just increase your range and offensive capabilities but also balance your combat stance better. And, of course, you'll feel more natural fighting that way, which boosts your confidence."

Bell smiled shyly but couldn't hide the excitement in his eyes. "So... what do we do?"

Altair gave a small smile and began walking again, gesturing for Bell to follow him. "Let's find some good daggers for you. They don't need to be as extravagant as Kanshou and Bakuya, but something that complements your style. Leave it to me."

Bell felt a comforting warmth grow in his chest. Altair wasn't just observing him; he also believed in his potential enough to invest time and effort into helping him grow. It was like a younger brother looking up to his older brother with admiration.

As they walked through the bustling streets of Orario, Altair observed Bell more closely. He had noticed something unique about the boy. Bell didn't possess the kind of talent that impressed at first glance. He didn't have the natural mastery of a swordsman or the innate precision of an archer. No, what Bell had was something rarer and, in a way, even more valuable: an unparalleled capacity for adaptation.

This ability, though subtle, was extraordinary. Bell didn't just survive situations; he absorbed them. Every experience, every fight, every failure was assimilated by him in a way that few could replicate. Bell embraced changes with an open mind and an almost unshakable determination, learning quickly from every event and, most impressively, finding ways to grow from them.

Altair paused for a moment, gazing at the young man walking beside him, carrying his old and worn dagger. It was a perfect symbol of Bell's current state: a rough instrument, far from perfect, but with the right use, it could transform into something extraordinary.

'This kid... He doesn't have conventional talent because what he has can't be easily recognized,' Altair thought, a smile playing on his lips. 'You can't understand him just by looking once or even ten times. You'd have to observe him in a hundred situations, maybe more, to grasp the essence of his strength.'

Altair knew that even Zeus, who cared for Bell like a grandfather, never noticed this uniqueness. How could he? It was something so deeply rooted in Bell's heart that it required a level of observation and patience few possessed. But Altair wasn't like other people. He carried with him the knowledge of Bell's original world, and that allowed him to see what no one else could.

'This boy is, without a doubt, the reincarnation of the hero Argonaut,' Altair thought, his smile widening. 'A hero born not to be strong from the start but to become strong by facing adversity. That is what makes him special.'

As they approached a crossroads, Altair stopped and placed a hand on Bell's shoulder.

"You're heading to the church now, aren't you?" Altair asked.

Bell, still excited about the day's events, nodded with a smile. "Yes, I'm taking the earnings to Lady Hestia. And you, Mr. Altair?"

"I have some errands to run," Altair replied, removing his hand from Bell's shoulder. "I'll fetch those daggers for you and maybe something extra. The next time we meet, I want to see how you handle two blades."

Bell blinked, surprised, but soon smiled confidently. "I'll do my best!"

Altair waved as he walked away, blending into the crowd of adventurers, merchants, and ordinary citizens filling the city's streets.

...

Altair walked through the bustling streets of Orario with a clear purpose in mind, his thoughts focused on Bell's weapon. He knew Bell couldn't continue with just a simple dagger for much longer. It was only a matter of time before he found himself in a situation where he would need more power and precision. He needed something special, something that would complement Bell's unique abilities and help him adapt even more effectively to the challenges he would face.

With this in mind, Altair opened the System's shop. He browsed the options with meticulous attention, searching for a weapon that suited Bell's fighting style—something agile, versatile, but also capable of giving him a decisive edge in tougher battles.

Altair's gaze finally settled on something that seemed perfect: [Twin Daggers of the Demon King]. These weapons, though of demonic origin, were not only powerful but also incredibly adaptable. They were designed to grow stronger when used together and to empower their wielder, allowing the user to quickly adapt to the needs of battle.

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After resolving Bell's weapon issue, Altair decided it was time to take a small detour. He felt that a visit to the famous pub, Hostess of Fertility, would be a good way to pass the time while pondering the next step in his journey. The pub was a well-known spot in Orario, where adventurers and citizens alike gathered to relax, eat, and drink after a long day. It was an establishment with an interesting history, founded by Mia Grand, a retired adventurer who had settled down after years of service. She channeled her former adventuring spirit into something more welcoming and community-oriented.

Hostess of Fertility was located on Western Main Street, and the brick-lined street and stone buildings created a picturesque setting that made the inn stand out as one of the city's most elegant locations. The two-story building was always bustling with customers, and its cozy atmosphere and diverse menu attracted both hungry adventurers and citizens seeking a good meal or a place to unwind at night.

Altair stopped in front of the pub, observing the building with interest. The wooden sign, adorned with religious symbols and a symbolic image of the goddess of fertility, was clearly visible, and the simple yet charming façade of the establishment was inviting. "Hostess of Fertility, a tribute to its goddess, I presume," Altair murmured to himself with an ironic smile. He knew that Mia Grand was a woman with a history of adventures and that she now used her life experience to run the pub with a special touch, always providing a safe and welcoming environment for those in need of a break.

Pushing open the wooden door, Altair stepped inside, immediately feeling the warm, inviting atmosphere. The aroma of delicious dishes and the soft hum of conversation filled the air. The place was bustling, as always, with adventurers discussing their latest exploits while others relaxed after a tiring day. The bar was busy, and Mia stood behind it, serving drinks and managing the flow of customers with the skill only a former adventurer could possess.

Altair made a friendly gesture toward her, and she recognized him instantly. Mia was a woman with a warm smile, blonde hair, and a firm posture. When he entered, she waved and offered a welcoming smile. She had made the Hostess of Fertility a gathering place for everyone, not just adventurers, and the space overflowed with a comforting energy.

Altair approached the bar, sitting down naturally as he observed the place with a familiar calm. He knew that while the establishment was renowned for its food and drink, it was also an excellent source of information. The night promised to be long, and perhaps it would be a good opportunity to gather more details about what was happening on the upper floors or even the recent changes in Orario's market.

As he settled in, Mia's presence in front of him didn't go unnoticed. She was a woman of imposing presence, and despite her retirement, she still carried the vigor of a true adventurer. Altair wondered what insights she might share about the city or even what he and Bell could expect in the days to come.

"A quiet evening," Altair murmured to himself as he observed the activity around him. He knew the tranquility wouldn't last forever, but for now, he would enjoy the moment of rest and reflection.

Altair settled into the wooden stool, observing his surroundings with an apparent calm, though his mind wandered far deeper than most could perceive. He watched the waitresses serving customers, moving between tables with the dexterity only someone accustomed to the frantic pace of a place like that could possess. The two cat-girls, with their pointed ears and agile tails, worked quickly, always flashing charming smiles as they served drinks and dishes. One had hair as black as the night, the other a soft shade of brown. There was also a human girl with light brown hair, seemingly younger, and a silver-haired woman whose piercing gaze seemed to hide a complex story. Finally, there was an elf with short, well-kept greenish-blonde hair, whose presence stood out among the others.

Altair, however, fixed his gaze on her—Ryuu Lion, the elf. She moved with the typical grace of her race, but there was something in her posture, a weight in her eyes, that seemed to conceal a deep pain. He recognized her immediately, not just by her appearance but by the aura she exuded. She was the elf who had been part of the Astraea Familia, a woman with a past marked by tragedy. Altair knew about her. He knew her story, the pain she carried, and the silent way she dealt with her tragedy.

As he watched Ryuu, an expression involuntarily appeared on his face. It wasn't one of affection or compassion but rather an expression of pity, of a bitter and profound understanding. Altair felt a poignant sadness well up in his chest as he looked at her. Ryuu—the elf who once had a family, a peaceful life, only to see it all destroyed by the Juggernaut, the monster that devastated her home, her family. And whom should Ryuu hold accountable for this? The Rudra Familia, whose direct or indirect actions had caused her loss. But the most painful part wasn't just the loss; it was the fact that Ryuu didn't seek justice for her dead loved ones but rather vengeance.

Vengeance. The desire to eradicate those who had destroyed everything she loved. That desire burned within Ryuu like an unquenchable flame, fueled by pain and resentment. And, in some way, Altair understood that. He understood it more than he cared to admit.

He, who had been forced to become the Counter Guardian at the mercy of the Will of Humanity, which no longer even existed—a human whose very humanity had been destroyed by pain and endless struggle. He, who now carried the desires and will of EMIYA, a spirit who had dedicated his existence to protecting humanity, but in a way so dark, so shrouded in suffering, that there was no room left for redemption. EMIYA, with his desire to eradicate Alaya, the cosmic consciousness that governed humanity's destiny, still resided within him. The desire to kill, to punish, to destroy what he saw as corrupted—something deserving of being erased from the world. That thirst for vengeance, that will for justice without regard for the means, that drive to kill still lived within Altair, intertwined with his very being.

He observed Ryuu again, seeing the echo of his own pain reflected in her eyes. She was an elf, but her story was no different from so many others who, throughout history, had been consumed by the desire for revenge, transformed into shadows of what they once were. Perhaps she, like him, could no longer find the path to peace, for vengeance consumed her soul just as EMIYA had consumed his.

Altair pulled himself away from his thoughts, focusing again on Ryuu. She continued serving customers, but her expression, though controlled, couldn't entirely hide the sadness that dominated her. He knew that somewhere deep within her being, she felt the weight of everything she had lost. But what he also knew was that revenge, while it might provide temporary relief, would ultimately destroy her. He couldn't do anything to change that, but at least he could understand.

He sighed and turned his gaze back to the surroundings, aware that the weight of everything he carried, and everything Ryuu carried, was something that could not easily be cast aside. The fate of both was intertwined on a fragile thread, where the line between justice and revenge blurred with each step.

Altair remained still, his arms resting on the wooden table as his eyes stayed fixed on Ryuu. The silence between them felt almost tangible, as if the environment around them had faded into an insignificant blur. To an outsider, it might have seemed like just a random moment of observation, but for Ryuu, that gaze carried something more. It wasn't an empty or casual look. It was a look laden with weight—a weight she could feel, even without fully understanding why.

Ryuu continued her work, moving gracefully between the tables, delivering plates and drinks with impeccable poise. Yet, she couldn't shake that look from her mind. It wasn't like the stares she usually received from the pub's patrons—stares of admiration or lust that made her feel like an object to be desired. No, this was different. It was a look of understanding, of sorrow... and of pity. Pity. Something that intrigued her deeply.

Finishing her service at a table of rowdy adventurers celebrating their latest victory, Ryuu decided she needed to address the feeling that had stirred within her. Why did he look at her like that? Why did this man, whom she had never seen before, seem to carry a weight similar to her own? Without breaking eye contact, Altair remained where he was, unmoving, waiting for the next move to be made.

Ryuu wiped her hands on her apron and approached Altair. Before any other waitress could take his order, she did so herself. Her posture, as always, was firm and controlled, but her eyes carried a sharp curiosity mixed with the natural caution that never left her. She was an elf accustomed to dangers and loss, and that caution had become second nature.

"Welcome to the Hostess of Fertility," Ryuu said in her calm and balanced voice, characteristic of her personality. "What would you like to order?"

Altair kept his gaze fixed on hers. He knew he had caught her attention and that she wanted answers, even if it wasn't something she would voice right away. He noticed how skilled she was at hiding her emotions, maintaining an almost impenetrable façade, but he also knew that look of pity had pierced the walls she had built over the years.

"A simple dish and some wine, please," Altair replied, his voice calm but imbued with a gentleness that seemed to disarm the tension. He did not look away, but neither did he press. He knew that silence was sometimes more effective than any words.

Ryuu jotted down the order silently, but before turning to leave, she hesitated for a moment. It wasn't something she usually did, but something about this man made her feel the need to say something, to confront him about that gaze. Finally, after a brief pause, she asked, without looking directly at him:

"Why do you look at me that way?"

Altair raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised by her direct approach. He pondered for a moment, wondering how honest he should be. But he knew lying wasn't an option—not with someone like Ryuu, whose intuition and perception were as sharp as a blade.

"Because I see something in you that... I know well," he replied, his voice lowering, almost as if he were revealing a secret. "Pain, loss, and a burden no one should have to bear alone."

Ryuu remained silent, her hands lightly gripping the notebook where she had written down the order. She didn't know how to respond right away. That was the last thing she had expected to hear. Altair continued, his expression staying serious.

"You don't have to believe me, but I understand what it means to lose everything and still keep going, even when everything inside you screams to stop." He looked away for a brief moment, as if reliving something from his own past. "That's why I look at you like that. It's not pity for who you are. It's... for what you've been through."

Ryuu blinked slowly, processing his words. They echoed in her mind, touching on wounds she had kept hidden even from herself. As much as she wanted to ignore or dismiss what he was saying, something in the sincerity of his eyes made it impossible.

"I'll bring your order," she finally replied, her voice firm but slightly softer than before. She turned and headed back to the kitchen, her heart beating a little faster than usual. Not because she feared Altair, but because his words had stirred something she had been trying to keep buried for a long time.

As she walked away, Altair let out a deep sigh, resting his chin on one hand. He knew he had crossed a line, but he also knew that sometimes, the hardest truths were the ones that needed to be said. 'You and I, Ryuu,' he thought, 'are more alike than you'd care to admit.'

Altair remained seated at the table, his eyes wandering through the bustling atmosphere of the Hostess of Fertility. The hum of conversations, laughter, and the sound of cutlery clinking against plates created a lively and welcoming environment. Despite this, he felt a slight tension in the air, as if an invisible thread connected him to the figure of the elf who had just walked away. He knew his words had stirred something in Ryuu, something she perhaps didn't want to confront.

After a few minutes, the light sound of firm yet graceful footsteps caught his attention. He looked up to see Ryuu returning with a large plate of steaming pasta and a bottle of wine in one hand. There was something different about her posture—less distant, yet still carrying a quiet determination. Without a word, she placed the plate before him with almost ceremonial precision, followed by the bottle of wine and two glasses. Altair tilted his head, surprised by the gesture, but said nothing.

With the same stoic expression as before, Ryuu pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, her movement so quiet it almost felt like a whisper amidst the noisy surroundings. Without hesitation, she opened the bottle of wine and carefully poured into one of the glasses, sliding it toward Altair.

"I'll sit with you," she said, her voice calm yet firm, as if the decision were unquestionable. "I'd like to know more about this pain you claim to understand."

Altair looked at her, surprised by her candor and initiative. He picked up the glass with a slight nod of gratitude, but before drinking, he observed the elf closely. Her posture was impeccable, yet there was something in her eyes, something struggling to stay hidden. He knew it wasn't easy for her to take this step, to open up to a stranger. For that reason, he chose his next words carefully.

"As you wish," he finally replied, his voice serene as he lightly swirled the wine glass between his fingers. He took a small sip of the wine, the rich, full-bodied flavor spreading across his palate, before placing the glass back on the table.

Ryuu wasted no time, her eyes fixed on Altair as she asked bluntly, "Why do you think you understand my pain? What makes you believe we're so alike?"

Altair gave a faint smile, though it wasn't a joyful one. It was a smile laden with melancholy, as if he were about to unearth something he'd rather keep buried. He rested his elbows on the table, interlacing his fingers as he leaned forward slightly.

"Because I've been where you are," he began, his voice low but weighted. "I've lost everything I held dear. I've felt consumed by a rage so deep it seemed like it would never fade. And I've made choices... choices I'm not proud of, choices that turned me into something I could barely recognize."

Ryuu remained silent, but her eyes never wavered from his. She felt that every word he spoke was genuine, heavy with a truth only someone who had truly lived it could express. Altair continued, his voice growing a touch deeper.

"You might not believe me, and I wouldn't blame you for that. But I see in you the same shadow I once saw in myself. That sense of emptiness, of carrying a burden that feels impossible to bear. And above all, that desire... that desire for revenge that consumes everything around you until there's nothing left."

Ryuu pressed her lips together, her hands resting on the apron. She wanted to say something, argue, but Altair's words were like a mirror reflecting parts of herself she tried to ignore. After a moment, she finally spoke, her voice a little softer than before.

"You speak as if you know me... but you don't know what I've lived through. You don't know what I've lost."

"No, I don't," Altair admitted with a nod. "And I won't pretend I do. But what I do know is that sometimes, carrying this pain alone leads nowhere. Sometimes, you need someone who understands, someone who won't judge you for what you feel or what you've done."

Ryuu fell silent again, but this time, it wasn't a defensive silence. It was a reflective silence, as if she were processing every word Altair had said. She picked up her own glass of wine, took a small sip, and placed it back on the table before asking:

"Then, do you consider yourself someone like that? Someone who wouldn't judge me?"

Altair shrugged lightly, an ironic smile forming on his lips. "I'm the last one who would have the right to judge anyone, Ryuu. My story has more stains than I'd like to admit. But maybe that's exactly why I can see beyond yours."

Ryuu took a deep breath, feeling a weight in her chest that seemed to ease, even if just a little. There was something about this man, something that made her want to keep listening, even though part of her still wanted to protect herself. And so, for the first time in a long while, she decided to continue the conversation, allowing a small crack to form in the wall she'd built around herself.

During the conversation, Altair felt strange, as if something inside him was changing. The words coming out of his mouth didn't seem to be his, and the emotions filling him seemed to arise from a deep, unknown place. And then came the memories. First, disconnected flashes: a blood-soaked battlefield, the sound of screams mingled with the crackling of fire, the cold gleam of a blade beneath a desolate sky. Then, they became clearer, more defined, bringing with them stories that, at first glance, were unrecognizable, but upon a second glance, felt as familiar as if they were parts of his own soul.

They were memories of a different life, a life marked by pain, betrayal, and the crushing weight of impossible decisions. He saw himself as someone who once dreamed of being a hero of justice, someone who, with the full innocence of youth, believed he could save lives and protect those in need. But the dream had turned into a nightmare. The war he fought to end had turned him into a scapegoat, condemned to death by those he had sworn to protect. He had been betrayed, but even in the face of this, he felt no hatred. Not for humanity.

But the cruel irony of fate was revealed when the "World" called him back, not as a savior, but as a cleaner. A Counter Guardian. His new mission was to massacre, destroy, and eliminate all humans in places where humanity was on the verge of annihilating itself. He became an executioner, a cold and relentless tool, forced to dirty his hands time and time again for the sake of a balance that would never be achieved.

As these memories flowed into him, Altair no longer knew where the past ended and the present began. It was as if each of these memories was his, as if he himself had wielded the sword and taken those lives. His hand, resting on the table, clenched into a fist, and he let out a dry laugh, almost a sigh of despair.

The sound caught Ryuu's attention, and she observed him with intrigued eyes. Her expression, once curious and reserved, now displayed something else: concern.

"Are you laughing?" she asked, her voice tinged with a slight incredulity. "What, exactly, are you laughing at?"

Altair lifted his gaze to her, and the elf's eyes met something that made her freeze. There was no desire, no pity, not even anger in his look. It was a broken gaze, the gaze of someone carrying the weight of countless tragedies. A gaze Ryuu knew well, for she had seen it in the mirror many times.

"It turns out I'm much more miserable than you, Miss Ryuu," Altair said, his voice low but filled with bitterness. He picked up the wine glass in front of him, spinning it between his fingers before taking a sip. "You lost your family. Your friends. Your... justice. But me..." He paused, laughing again, as if he couldn't believe the words he was about to say. "I've killed more people than could possibly be counted. For years. Decades, maybe. My hands are so stained with blood that I don't even know how they still exist."

Ryuu stared at him, unsure of how to respond immediately. That revelation caught her off guard. It wasn't the confession of an ordinary adventurer or a remorseful murderer. There was something different in the way he spoke, a depth that seemed impossible to reach. She clenched her hands in her lap, trying to maintain composure.

"Are you saying that... you killed people? By choice?" Ryuu finally asked, her voice a bit softer, but still cautious.

Altair slowly shook his head, the corners of his lips curling into a bitter smile. "By choice? No. It was never a choice. It was an obligation. Something I had to do... because if I didn't, the world... it would fall into chaos. Or at least, that's what they told me. That's what I told myself to keep going. To justify every life I took."

Ryuu felt a chill run down her spine. His words were different from anything she had ever heard. They weren't the words of a man who killed for pleasure or greed. They were the words of someone who had been forced to do the unthinkable and, even so, still carried the weight of each one of those actions.

"And now?" she asked, leaning slightly forward, her eyes fixed on his. "Do you still believe you did what was right?"

Altair let out a heavy sigh, diverting his gaze to the table. He seemed to be struggling with something inside himself, an invisible battle that was making him increasingly tired. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "Maybe. Maybe I saved lives, prevented greater tragedies. But in the end, all I can remember are the faces of the people I killed. The screams. The silence that follows." He looked up again, and Ryuu saw something in his eyes that left her speechless: pure, undeniable regret. "If this is justice... then I don't want to be part of it anymore."

A heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the distant sound of laughter and conversation in the background. Ryuu took a deep breath, trying to process everything she had just heard. Altair didn't seem to be lying, but his words carried such a weight that it was hard to believe anyone could survive such a burden.

"Maybe," she said finally, her voice softer, "you don't have to carry this alone. Not everything has to be a burden, Lord Altair. Not even the pain."

Altair stared at her, surprised by the softness in her voice. He hadn't expected sympathy, especially not from someone like Ryuu. And, for the first time in a long while, he felt a small spark of something different, something he could barely name: hope.

As Altair finished his meal, a translucent and familiar screen materialized before his eyes. He blinked as he read it, the text dancing before him like a subtle provocation:

[Alert! Level 4 Adventurer, Ryuu Lion "Gale Wind", reached 50 affection!] [Ryuu's status changed from (Interested) to (Slightly in Love)]

Altair furrowed his brow slightly, the unexpected information leaving him momentarily confused. He glanced sideways at Ryuu, who still seemed lost in thought, her stoic expression barely hiding the genuine interest that had grown during their conversation. It was fascinating, and at the same time unsettling, to realize how the interaction had changed her perception of him.

Altair turned his gaze back to the table, organizing his thoughts. 'In love? That seems... problematic. What is this system planning?'

He took a deep breath, suppressing a tired sigh. When Ryuu stared at him again, her blue eyes shining with an intensity he hadn't expected, he forced himself to maintain his composure. The meal had already ended, and prolonging the moment would only complicate things.

Carefully, Altair extended his hand towards Ryuu's. The gesture was gentle but direct, and when he touched her hand, he felt the elf's slight startle. Her skin was cold, contrasting with the warmth of his. He held her hand for a brief moment, his fingers wrapping around hers with a gentle firmness.

"I'm sorry for doing this," Altair murmured softly, almost inaudible, his words seeming more directed at himself than at her. However, his eyes remained fixed on hers. "Thank you very much, Miss Ryuu. It was... very pleasant talking to you."

Those words seemed simple, but carried a weight that Ryuu felt deeply. The touch of his hand, combined with the sincerity in his voice and gaze, made her heart race slightly—something she hadn't felt in a long time. Before she could respond, Altair stood up, grabbing a small bag he had prepared earlier.

He placed it on the table with a casual gesture, but the metallic sound of coins clinking caught Ryuu's attention. It was a money pouch, and a quick glimpse of the embroidered label revealed the impressive amount: 30,000 Valis.

"That... is a lot of money," she said, surprised, looking back at Altair. Her voice carried a hesitant tone, as if she was pondering whether she should refuse.

Altair gave a faint smile, almost imperceptible, as he adjusted the cloak over his shoulders. "Consider it a token of appreciation for your company. And for listening to someone as... broken as I am." He hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening. "I hope that one day you find something that brings peace to your heart, Miss Ryuu."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the exit, leaving the elf alone at the table. Ryuu remained where she was, her eyes fixed on the sack of coins and on his figure moving away. Her mind was a whirlwind, but what troubled her most wasn't the money or what he had said. It was his gaze — that broken look yet still so genuine — that lingered in her memory.

She couldn't help but blush slightly as she pressed the hand he had touched, her thoughts sinking into confusion and curiosity.

"Who are you really, Altair?"

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(Author's note: Did I push their closeness too much? I'm sorry, I'm not good at romance, so I tend to focus more on action and adventure than romance, but I try to make it coherent.)