The Dreamer's POV

Chapter 84: Confrontation With The Guildmaster

[00 Months: 04 Days: 17 Hours]

Walking through the twisted, cobblestone streets of Terance, my heart carried an ache like a black hole in my chest.

A sorrowed wind blew against me, rustling my hair as it carried the torment of my recent discovery. The Outpost was now nothing but ruins and ash.

"Luke?" A gruff voice echoed in the empty alley, dragging me out of my despair.

I paused, my shoes grinding against the loose stones.

Beneath the dimmed glow of the distant lamppost, a man stood tall and imposing. He had a hard-set jaw and a stern look, the wrinkles of age marking him with distinction. His eyes gleamed with sharp scrutiny under his furrowed brows.

"You must be Luke," he stated matter-of-factly. "You match the description given by the guards at the city gates."

I felt a pang of frustration and regret the moment I heard that.

I had forgotten to activate my Concealment Robe when I left the Information Guilf, leaving myself vulnerable and exposed.

The fatigue weighed heavily upon me, both physically and mentally, and the desire to simply flee pulsed within my veins.

But I couldn't run. Not now.

"I've been described well, then," I muttered, my tone betraying my sour mood. The Concealment Robe hung limp around my shoulders.

It seemed I just made a rookie mistake.

"I've heard of you," the man said, stepping forward. "Name's Benard, Guildmaster of Terance."

A sudden surge of apprehension ran through me, the title echoing ominously in my mind. Guildmaster.

I swallowed hard, realizing the gravity of my situation.

"Luke," he began, studying me with piercing eyes, "word has it that The Outpost was destroyed. There's reason to believe you played a part in it."

The accusation hit me like a punch, tying my stomach in knots. The information I had received from the Information Guild earlier seemed to claw its way back, adding fuel to my burning despair.

"I didn't," I said, my voice more of a hoarse whisper. I was too tired to run, too saddened to defend myself.

"Can't just take your word for it, lad," Benard retorted, his gaze never wavering. "Your mysterious demeanor, your dark cloak, your late-night wanderings... It's all suspicious."

"So, you're planning to corner me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a dangerous edge. The sorrow was gradually giving way to a rage that coursed like lava through my veins.

Benard's gaze hardened. "For the security of the people of Terance, I will subdue you if need be."

My patience wore thin, my frustration boiling beneath the surface. I understood his suspicion, but to be unjustly accused weighed heavily on my spirit.

"I have nothing to hide," I insisted, my voice firm. "But I will not be treated as a criminal without cause."

Benard's eyes narrowed, his posture growing more defensive. "Your demeanor is shady, walking the dark streets cloaked in secrecy," he retorted.

"Tell me, Luke, where are you coming from?"

I bristled at his accusation, my weariness giving way to a flicker of anger. My usual caution and stealth had been compromised by my shattered emotions.

My grip on self-restraint was slipping, and I found myself yearning for a release.

I stared back at him, my frustration bubbling over. "I've always wondered how the strong Natives of Mage'Earth would fight," I muttered, clenching my fists at my sides.

My patience was seriously wearing thin.

Benard's face turned serious, his muscles taut as he fell into a combat stance. I matched his position, my body humming with adrenaline.

The calm, cautious part of me screamed to stop, but I was past the point of no return. My heart pounded in my chest, echoing the rhythm of the silent duel.

"Whenever you're ready, Guildmaster," I hissed, my every nerve on high alert.

He glared at me, a silent signal of challenge. I returned his stare, my eyes flaring with determination.

In that moment, the alleyway was no longer just a passageway in the city of Terance. It became an arena, lit by the dim lamplight, filled with our raw, pulsating emotions.

It was the stage for a duel between a Guildmaster and a man with nothing left to lose.

Our exchange had taken a turn for the surreal. Under normal circumstances, I would have chosen the path of discretion, slipped away into the shadows with my Concealment Robe.

But tonight was different.

The news of The Outpost's destruction had shattered something inside me. A dam had burst, releasing a flood of pent-up fury and despair. And now, all I wanted was to lose myself in the fight, let my fists express what my words could not.

The city of Terance slept around us, oblivious to the storm brewing in its quiet alleyway. And there we stood, two men under the midnight sky, ready to battle not just for justice or suspicion, but for the deep, unspoken emotions that tore through us.

"Attack," I whispered into the wind, my voice laced with a quiet fury.

And as the echoes died down, I braced myself for the storm that was to come. All my sorrows, all my rage, all my despair coalesced into a single, pulsating energy within me.

I was ready to fight, ready to unleash everything.

And as I faced Benard in the dimly lit alleyway, I realized that perhaps, in some twisted way, this was the release I had been yearning for.

Just like the silent city of Terance around us, my own world held its breath.

As the distance closed between Benard and me, I knew that this was more than just a fight. This was my catharsis, my explosion of repressed emotions in every punch and block that awaited us.

It was a desperate call into the night, a stark contrast against the serene stillness of the sleeping city.

"Don't blame me for what happens next, kid!"

Thus, as the fight began, I was ready to let my pent-up emotions roar against the quiet of Terance, ready to face whatever came my way.

"Don't die..." Was the final statement I whispered before my anger took over.

'Please don't die.'

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[A/N]

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