Erina walked beside me, her earlier annoyance having mostly faded, replaced by her usual energetic stride. The bag of honey-cakes she'd brought earlier now lay mostly empty in my hand, a casualty of our initial surprise and her subsequent agreement.
"So, the Administrator Faction Hall," Erina mused, pointing toward a distant, impossibly tall spire that pierced the morning haze like a needle. "Hope you're ready for some serious paperwork. Those guys love their forms. Last time I went, I had to fill out a 'Request for Request Form'."
"Sounds thrilling," I deadpanned, clutching the Builder's official document case tighter. The smooth, dark wood of it felt like a tiny, dangerous coffin in my grip. "Any advice on how not to accidentally break some obscure inter-factional law?"
Erina tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Just keep your answers short. Don't volunteer information. And if they ask you to sign anything, demand a full breakdown of clauses A through Z. They hate that." She grinned, flashing a quick, mischievous smile. "Mostly, just let me do the talking. I'm practically fluent in Administrator-speak."
"Glad to hear it," I said, a genuine wave of relief washing over me. Having her by my side, even under duress, was a massive comfort. This felt less like a solo mission into enemy territory and more like a field trip with a highly competent, slightly sarcastic guide.
We walked in comfortable silence for a while, the bustling streets of the city slowly coming alive around us. Merchants were setting up their stalls, adventurers were gathering at crossroads, probably preparing for morning patrols, and the steady, distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer echoed rhythmically. It was the familiar soundtrack of Out of Boundary City, but today, with Erina beside me, it felt less overwhelming and more… vibrant.
"So," Erina said, suddenly turning her attention to me. "How have you actually been, Kael? Living with the silent sentinels and the stoic stone-makers? Is it everything you dreamed of?"
I thought about Fen, his quiet determination. Valerius, his unwavering focus. Elara, her insightful, sometimes unsettling observations. Lyra, her perfect, unsettling grace. Silas is Silas I guess. And the Builder himself, the unseen force who sculpted the very ground beneath their feet. It was certainly different from what I'd expected.
"It's… surprisingly good, actually," I admitted, a slight smile forming on my face. "Don't get me wrong, they're all pretty weird. And quiet. Like, really quiet. And the Builder is rarely even there. But…" I trailed off, searching for the right words. "There's a… purpose to it. A calmness. It's not about glory or showing off; it's about making sure the city stands. Every day, they just… do their job. And they're really, really good at it."
Erina was listening intently, her usual playful expression softened. "So, you like it? The Builder Faction?"
"Yeah," I confirmed, surprised by the honesty in my own voice. "I do. It's not what I expected, but it feels… solid, you know? Like I'm actually part of something important, something that lasts. Even if it's just hauling rocks." I paused, thinking about my quiet breakthrough with the wall yesterday. "And I'm learning things. Things that don't involve just shooting bigger fireballs."
A wide, genuine smile spread across Erina's face, lighting up her features. It wasn't her usual mischievous smirk, but something softer, more heartfelt.
"That's… really great to hear, Kael," she said, her voice unexpectedly quiet. She looked down at the cobblestones for a moment, tracing a pattern with her boot. "Honestly, I was worried about you. After the way my faction… after the way we treated you that day."
Her words caught me off guard. The cheerfulness had vanished completely. Her usual bright eyes were clouded with something I hadn't seen there before: regret.
"You mean during the attack?" I asked, recalling the Adventurers' cold stares as I fought alone, and her faction leader's brutal declaration that I was on my own.
She nodded slowly, still not meeting my gaze. "Yeah. That day. The High Orc was coming for you, and we just… let it. I wanted to help, Kael, I really did. But Vulcan—he's the guild master—his word is law. And his logic… well, it made sense, from an Adventurer's perspective. Test the newcomer, see if he's strong enough to survive. If not, one less problem to worry about." She let out a small, bitter laugh. "Sounds awful when I say it out loud, doesn't it?"
I stopped walking, gently putting a hand on her arm, stopping her too. She finally looked up, her expression vulnerable.
"Hey," I said softly, meeting her eyes. "It's okay, Erina. Really. I get it."
She blinked, surprised. "You do?"
"Yeah," I affirmed. "I saw the way the Adventurers operate. It's a harsh world here, right? Everyone's a deleted character, clinging to a second chance. Resources are probably tight, and every member needs to pull their weight. There's no room for sentimentality, especially when the city itself is under threat." I squeezed her arm gently. "And you? You're a part of that. You were following orders. You were protecting your own. I understand. It sucked, but I get it."
Her eyes widened, and a slow, relieved breath escaped her lips. The tension that had been etched into her features seemed to melt away, replaced by a genuine warmth.
"Thank you, Kael," she whispered, a small, grateful smile returning to her face. "That actually… means a lot."
I chuckled. "Don't mention it. Just try not to get me killed by any more lineage monsters, okay?"
She laughed, a real, unburdened sound this time. "Deal." She took a step forward, then stopped, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. The familiar, playful Erina was back.
"So," she began, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Since Lyra basically shanghaied me into this little errand, costing me my thrilling Razor-bug patrol… and since you're obviously doing so well adjusting to your new, quiet life with the stone-loving weirdos…"
She paused, building the suspense. I raised an eyebrow, a premonition of something unexpected forming in my gut. "What are you getting at, Erina?"
She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, though her eyes were sparkling with open boldness. "How about you make it up to me? Since we're stuck together on this 'critical mission' and all, how about you treat me to dinner? You know, on our next day off. Like… a date."
My jaw nearly hit the cobblestones. I blinked, trying to process her words. A date? With Erina? The confident, battle-hardened adventurer who had been my only friendly face in this impossible city? The idea hit me like a rogue lightning bolt—sudden, unexpected, and completely disorienting.
"A… a date?" I stammered, feeling a blush creep up my neck. I was used to fighting monsters and mending walls, not navigating this kind of social interaction. This was way out of my depth.
"Yeah, a date!" she repeated, her smile widening. "You know, food, maybe some music, talk about how much we hate bureaucrats. What do you say?"
I looked at her, truly looked at her. Her vibrant orange hair, the sparkle in her eyes, the determined set of her jaw that hid a surprising warmth. She wasn't just a guide or an ally. She was… Erina. And the thought, as terrifying as it was, also sparked a strange, exhilarating flutter in my chest.
My first thought was a dozen excuses. I'm still a glitched character. I have a cursed orb. I don't even know if I'm technically alive. But then I remembered the Builder's philosophy: what you do matters. And what was I doing now? Hiding?
"I… uh…" I cleared my throat, feeling entirely out of my depth. "I guess… yeah. Okay. A date."
Erina's grin exploded, victorious and genuinely delighted. "Awesome! I'll pick a good place. Now come on, Kael. We've got paperwork to conquer!"
She grabbed my hand, tugging me forward, the delicate touch sending a jolt through me that had nothing to do with lineage power or mana. My heart pounded, a rhythm entirely separate from the deep, steady beat of the city.
The Administrator's spire seemed even taller now. But for the first time since I'd woken up in this glitched world, the thought of facing a mountain of forms felt almost manageable.