CHAPTER 85: RIVERMARROW - THE CITY OF FAILED WARRIORS

The coy smile left Nisha’s mouth as she spoke.

"We are in Rivermarrow. Do you know where that is?"

I shook my head, slightly confused because I had no idea how that was supposed to be connected to the bad news.

"Hmm, I see..."

She was about to continue when we heard footsteps again. She went silent quickly, and we both watched as the supposed father of the girl entered the room.

The man was old, but not too old — fairly in his late fifties. He had a rough grey goatee, and his face was carved with wrinkles, even around his eyes, creasing the skin there like old leather. His hair was scarce, leaving a centerpiece of barren scalp, although he’d tied a faded scarf around his forehead to cover most of it.

"Oh, good spirits, you’re awake. The Lord of Strength must’ve answered our prayers." He moved closer, his voice weary but warm with genuine gratitude. "Young man, you’re incredibly lucky. Of the two of you — you were the most damaged. The waters had filled your insides, and we had to suck them all out through your mouth and nose."

I nodded respectfully, thanking him with a smile. Let it be known that I do not know how to act around very elderly people, especially if they are genuinely good. Something about pure, uncomplicated kindness made me feel like a fraud.

I chuckled shyly.

"Thank you so much, sir..." I closed my eyes, still forcing that chuckle to stay there. "W—who sucked..."

The man gestured to the young girl and gently placed his hand on her shoulders.

"This is Octavia... you should be thankful for her. She helped suck every single thing."

’He keeps saying suck suck suck... it’s bothering me in a wrong way.’

But I was honestly relieved that it was Octavia who had sucked me. She looked quite young, thin, wearing a loose blouse and tight shorts that stopped just above her knees. There was a strong, proud look on her face — the kind of quiet confidence that came from growing up doing hard work without complaint.

I gave her a charming smile.

"Thank you, Octavia."

Immediately, she widened her eyes, blushing as if a warm wind of flowers had swept across her face. Then she turned away with a strange, suppressed look in her eyes, stealing glances at me. If I didn’t know how I looked, I’d have thought I was handsome.

’Or maybe she just has terrible taste.’

My stomach grumbled at that moment, making an announcement to the entire room.

The man laughed lightly.

"Haha... you’ve been out of it for two days, after all. You need food. You both need food."

Nisha threw up her hands.

"Yes, Pa Epphy, I like your roasted fish and potatoes."

’Pa Epphy?’

I looked at her, all cheerful, as if she had been staying here for years. As if this cramped fishing hut was home and these strangers were family.

Well, now that I thought about it, Nisha did have that air about her. It made it easy to ease up around her, to feel free. It was close to something Lira had, but Lira’s warmth was directed more specifically toward me. Clara lacked it entirely. But Nisha seemed like this toward everyone — an openness that drew people in without effort.

’Eccentric.’

Remembering Lira and Clara again put a wistful smile on my face. A lot had happened. All of this felt so unreal — the river, the rescue, waking up in a stranger’s home with Nisha acting like she’d known these people her whole life.

But one thing was certain.

Those two were dead. And I was most likely never going to see them again. Even if I died.

For I would either die while destroying the church or die afterward. There was going to be no death before that, and so I knew Heaven was not a place that would be waiting for me. Those two, however — they deserved nothing less.

"Okay then, I shall get some freshly caught blade-fin fish for you, okay? I’ll boil you a bone soup with fins. You’ll absolutely love them."

The man said it excitedly, already shuffling to the walls of his abode and bringing out a blackened pot and a kneaded basket. His movements had the practiced ease of someone who’d done this a thousand times.

"Father, let me help you. Will you make some for me too?"

"Go make your own soup, Octavia. Did you drown?"

"C’mon, Father, you can’t possibly be nice to outsiders and mean to your daughter? Your own daughter?!"

"And you can’t possibly be shameless!"

The man carried all he needed and smiled at us respectfully.

"I’ll be back with the soup." Then he walked outside, the basket creaking against his hip.

The girl, Octavia, chuckled shyly, glancing between Nisha and me.

"Hehe... don’t mind Father. I’m very classy and not shameless." Then she bolted outside after him.

I exhaled slowly, watching the doorway settle back into stillness.

"What a strange duo." My eyes found Nisha again, holding her gaze with seriousness. "You were saying?"

She continued casually, though the trace of a smile from watching the father and daughter slowly faded from her face.

"I said this is Rivermarrow, but that’s the common language. It’s known as Al’thria in the ancient tongue. It is the city of warriors — but later in line, it was translated as the city of failed warriors."

I paid attention to her, still not finding the fault in this.

"Okay?"

She exhaled.

"You don’t know about the skirmishes between the church and the early Aetherians."

"No, I don’t?"

She nodded, breathing in to calmly explain.

"Aetheris didn’t always used to be a nation that favored religion. In fact, it was molded by strong men who believed purely in the way of strength. If there was any religion they came close to having, it was the Iron Covenant, because they believed strongly in the Codex of Conquest — a military encyclopedia for every war-oriented person, starting from a child to a mighty nation. But they were never truly religious in a sense." She gestured slightly with her hands as she continued. "This is what little remains of the old resistance that stood against the integration of the church into Aetheris Kingdom. Our presence here... me and you, puts them at great danger."

Her look became more serious, more... grim.

"I’m saying we could get an entire village killed. Everyone. The church will swoop in and kill every damn one of them."