Chapter 147

The sharp ring of strikes echoing across the dark-gray cavern had begun to fade.

"……"

Ethan stood in place and looked up at the fallen beast.

The golden crystals that had sprouted across the basilisk's body were cratered and shattered from the onslaught moments ago.

CLANG!

But the crystal crowning the top of its skull was another matter entirely.

No matter who stepped up to hammer it, the thing refused to budge.

"God damn it! Why! Won't! This! Stupid! Rock! Break!"

"Captain Tibeau! Come down already! You've smashed it a few dozen times by now—it's time to give it up."

"Dian, you too! Knock it off! That's the seventh try already."

Ethan watched the blade glance off the unyielding surface and ricochet to the opposite side without leaving so much as a scratch.

Clink.

His grip tightened around the hilt.

An instinct flickered through his mind—that he could cleave the crystal in front of him.

But in the same breath, the impulse to step forward seized up. He couldn't trust it. Not this judgment—not right now.

"……"

And yet… even so.

As a fighter, there was a job that needed doing.

Ethan moved to take a step forward—and stopped.

Despite that final resolve, his feet stayed cemented to the ground as though nailed there, refusing to lift.

"—Ethan, you need to finish this."

Mikhail's voice came from behind. Only then did Ethan move. As if the words had tripped a switch, he vaulted up to the basilisk's neck and approached the group clustered around the crystal.

"Step aside."

Six or seven heads turned his way.

Their eyes raked him up and down, and crooked smirks tugged at their lips.

"Nah, no way. You barely look like you've got the strength left to swing."

"Don't tell me you're planning to cut it with that sword? We already tried bashing it with clubs way bigger than that and got nothing."

"Move."

Ethan's tone left no room for argument. The group exchanged uneasy glances, brows furrowing, then shuffled aside.

"Tch, we were trying to help…."

"Sure. Knock yourself out, I guess."

Grumbling popped off from every direction. Ethan left the noise behind and stared down at the crystal right in front of him.

A golden gleam shimmered across its solid surface.

It pulsed the same way the fluid beneath the basilisk's hide had—like a living heartbeat.

"……"

Ethan watched the restless ripple of light in silence, then raised his sword.

One breath hung between him and the surface before he brought the blade down.

The silver edge bit into the crystal. The golden mass split as though struck by lightning, and its glow died in an instant.

CRASH!

"Huh…?"

The skeptical murmurs cut off like a severed wire. Gasps of shock tumbled out in clumsy fragments, and cheers erupted from the crowd gathered across the cavern.

"He split it in one shot!"

"No—wait. Something that hard just cracked apart like that? You're lying. That's impossible!"

"Did you see that? That's my friend right there! Say what you want about anything else, but his skills are the real deal!"

Ethan's expression, though, stayed quiet. Without a flicker of change, he slid the sword back into its sheath and looked down at the basilisk beneath his feet.

Crack. Crk-crk.

The savage reptile was turning to stone.

Scales that had been hard as steel, teeth and claws honed like sharpened weapons—all of it lost its color and crumbled like weathered sculpture, shedding fragments of rock one by one.

…Only its wide-open eyes were different.

Even as the life faded from them, a murky gold lingered—flickering, refusing to disappear.

"……"

Ethan pulled his gaze from the sight and dropped down to the ground.

"Nice work."

Ethan turned toward the light voice that greeted him.

Mikhail sat with his legs stretched out on the floor, grinning that spinning grin of his—looking for all the world like everything was finally over, relief written plainly across his face.

"……"

Ethan met his eyes. He lingered for a beat, then let a matching smile settle onto his own face and answered.

"Yeah."

Ethan picked up the stride he'd paused.

He brushed past Mikhail's side, walked three or four more steps, and stopped. His head dropped.

There, swimming into his downward gaze across the pitch-black floor—

The fathomless crater the basilisk's attack had carved hovered before him like a phantom.

"……"

Ethan stared into that deep void in silence. Then the corner of his mouth twisted, and a bitter smile broke across his face.

Did I ever really have the ability to protect anyone?

Ethan held down the tremor running through his breath and closed his eyes.

His whole body felt as though it were sinking—heavy, like he'd been caught in a sudden downpour and soaked through to the bone.

---

Meanwhile, inside the Grand Guild Headquarters' main hall.

"……"

Edwin sat with both fists clenched white, staring at the floating screen as if he might get pulled inside it.

From the basilisk's emergence to the sudden mutation, from the participants scrambling to respond to the moment the rampaging beast was brought down for good—

The screen had captured everything. The opening standoff, the crisis that erupted out of nowhere, and every moment it took to resolve.

CRASH!

A white blade flashed, and the crystal jutting from the basilisk's skull shattered to pieces. Then the beast's body, hardening to stone, filled the frame.

"YEAAAAH!"

"That was incredible! Absolutely flawless!"

Gasps and thunderous applause erupted from every direction at the scene that said it all—the fight was over.

Edwin's face lit up in an instant. He unclenched his white-knuckled fists, and a hearty laugh spilled out of him.

"Ha…hah. Hahaha! They actually… they actually did it! Our school actually pulled it off! And—and also…!"

"Mikhail really came through, didn't he?"

Julien cut in from the seat beside him. Edwin turned to face him with a beaming grin.

"Yeah! I thought beating Verte was impressive enough, and just maintaining first place the whole time was already amazing! But leading that entire chaos at the end—giving orders and coordinating the counterattack? I never saw that coming!"

"Indeed, well said. Every participant fought admirably, but it's no exaggeration to say that more than half the credit for resolving that final crisis belongs to Senit."

A voice from behind had chimed in without warning. Edwin's eyes went round as he turned his head—and a second voice ambushed him from the side.

"Hello there. Edwin Lowell, yes?"

"Wh—huh…?"

Edwin flinched at the sudden address and whipped his head toward the speaker.

A woman with a cheerful air was pushing her glasses up and beaming at him.

Edwin blinked at her face, rifling through his memory, then asked cautiously.

"Hello. Um… I don't think we've met before. How do you… know my name?"

"Oh, come on—it's obvious. You're the spitting image of the Guild Master. I may not look it, but information is my bread and butter."

The woman fielded his question with practiced ease, then fished through her coat and produced a business card.

"Apologies for the late introduction. This is who I am."

Edwin's gaze bounced between her face and the card before he took it with hesitant hands and read what was printed there.

"Editor-in-chief of the White Deer Daily. Rita Yurain?"

Rita gave a brisk nod, then pressed on with unshakable confidence.

"That's right. Let me introduce myself properly. I'm Rita Yurain, editor-in-chief of the White Deer Daily. I already knew you were enrolled at Salvator, but hearing the conversation between you and your friend just now, it sounds like you're close with Senit too. There's something I'd love to ask—would you be up for a quick interview later?"

A hand shot up from Rita's side.

"Oh, Rita. Count me in. I want to hear if there's anything worth writing about."

"Stories about Senit? Me too! I want to listen!"

One person jumped in, and suddenly everyone seated nearby piled on. The area dissolved into a clamor in seconds.

"…Oh, uh."

Edwin's eyes darted through the wall of eager stares. He scratched his cheek and let a vague sound trail off.

If he was being honest, he wanted to ask whether editors-in-chief normally conducted interviews themselves… but he knew well enough that now wasn't the time for that.

Edwin mustered an awkward smile and spoke.

"The thing is… Mikhail probably wouldn't appreciate people talking about him when he's not around. Even for an interview, I don't think I'd have anything special to share, so… maybe later?"

Rita swept a glance over Edwin's retreating expression and the crowd that had swarmed in around them, then nodded without objection.

"Mm, fair enough. That's a reasonable point. Then could I ask you to pass along just one thing to Senit?"

Rita pulled another business card from her coat in a flash and held it out to Edwin.

"I'd love to hear what Senit has to say—anytime. Please give him my card and let him know to reach out whenever it's convenient. I'd really appreciate it."

She adapted to the situation with smooth ease. Edwin gave Rita an honest nod and accepted the card.

Rita smiled, satisfied.

Then she waved her hand at the crowd around them and raised her voice.

"All right, all right—this is a public space, after all. Can't have it getting too rowdy. Let's call it here for now! Everyone, eyes on the screen until the broadcast wraps up. Go on—disperse!"

"Hold on, Rita. You got your favor in and now the rest of us—"

"Excuse me! Usher? This gentleman's being a tiiiny bit loud. Could we get him moved to another seat?"

"Gah! You're the real fox around here!"

"?"

Han and Ul, curled on Edwin's and Julien's laps, poked their heads up in unison.

Edwin snickered at the two pairs of curious, darting eyes, then turned his gaze up toward the screen overhead.

"……"

The person who appeared on screen just then was Mikhail. He sat on the ground, releasing a long, heavy breath.

The exhaustion from the grueling fight showed plainly—yet he wore the same quiet, unreadable expression he always did.

Edwin was watching that composed figure with a grin when Julien spoke up from beside him.

"Now that the basilisk's been dealt with, all that's left is for everyone to make it back safely, right?"

Edwin nodded without hesitation.

"Yeah. We'll get to see them here soon enough. When they're back, let's give them a good welcome—pat their backs 'til our hands are sore."

---

The reinforcement unit that had arrived moments ago was surveying the area, handing out supplies, and sorting through the aftermath.

Mikhail stared blankly into the empty air and read the message announcing the end of the main storyline event.

〔Quest: [Main] Subjugate the Basilisk — Complete〕

• Completion Reward: Shop Currency +6

Clink.

The moment the golden text inscribed itself across his vision, a fist-sized crystal dropped into the inside of his pocket.

A skill stone—earned from the basilisk's subjugation.

"…Hah."

Mikhail let a softer breath scatter from his lips and swept his hair back.

The basilisk's corpse—bearing scars far larger than anything the original story had depicted, its eyes still unextinguished.

Mikhail held that sight in his gaze for a long, silent moment, then slowly lowered his eyes.

There's going to be… a lot more to think about from here.