The "Lizardman Slay" quest was finally, mercifully, over.
The second the city gates came into view, I felt a literal weight lift off my shoulders. Massive stone walls, bored-looking guards, the chaotic roar of a crowd—it was the sweet, sweet sound of safety. The streets were as loud as ever: vendors screaming about cabbage, blacksmiths clanging away, and that familiar city-smell of fresh bread mixed with… well, too much unwashed human sweat.
But between Serena and me? Dead silence.
We walked side-by-side, but neither of us wanted to be the first to break the ice. Every time our eyes accidentally met, we'd both look away like we'd just been caught staring at a solar eclipse. It wasn't a "we have nothing to talk about" silence; it was a "we definitely remember what happened three hours ago" silence. It was heavy.
Finally, Serena stopped.
"Arthur."
Her voice wasn't that deep, liturgical drone anymore. It was back to being clean and soft, with just a hint of a girl-next-door sweetness. "I'll be honest—at the start of this, I wasn't sure you could actually pull this off. Back then, you looked… well, you've seen better days."
I didn't argue. I had been a mess.
"But now?" She looked me straight in the eyes. "I'm glad I took the gamble. I'm glad I trusted you."
Standing there in the sunlight, her nun habit was perfect. Every button was done up, every fold of fabric looked like it had been ironed by the hand of God Himself. She looked so prim and proper that it felt like a total glitch in reality compared to the messy, silver-haired girl who had woken up draped across my chest this morning.
I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but the words just got stuck.
My silence was the answer. She got it. For a split second, I saw her "professional mask" crack—she looked panicked, flustered, human. But then she snapped it back into place, her voice going steady and business-like again.
"You delivered everything I asked for."
I just nodded. The wolf in my blood—the part of me that was all muscle and impulse—was surprisingly quiet for once. Maybe I was just exhausted. Or maybe it was because I knew her faith and my "Get Me Back to Earth" mission were on two completely different tracks.
We were moving forward emotionally, but our brains were slamming on the brakes.
"Hey, remember," I said, trying to force a casual smirk, "I told you that you were 'science.'"
Serena blinked, then actually let out a little laugh.
"I believe you still owe me a physics lesson," she countered.
"The world is just one big puzzle, Sister," I shrugged. "Whether you believe in the Big Bang or a Divine Spark, the gears turn the same way."
She laughed again, low and soft. Then, the silence came back.
Serena reached into her robes and pulled out a single silver coin. She held it out to me.
"Your payment. In full. Just like we agreed."
I didn't take it right away.
It wasn't that I didn't need the money—I was literally broke—but I knew that the second I touched that coin, this stopped being a "thing" and became a "job." It was the official receipt for our relationship. End of transaction.
When I finally took it, I didn't even look at the silver.
"Thanks for the trust," I said.
She looked up at me. For a fraction of a second, the memory hit us both like a freight train.
The morning heat. My heart pounding through my ribs. The way she'd looked at me with those hazy, half-awake eyes. And, of course, the grip. The way her hand had instinctively closed around… well, the 20cm elephant in the room.
Time basically stopped. We were standing way too close, our breathing getting all synced up again. Neither of us moved.
Nothing had really happened. But at the same time, everything had already happened.
"That… shouldn't have happened," Serena whispered. No blame, just cold, hard honesty. "I didn't plan for that."
"Yeah," I said, shaking my head. "Things got complicated."
Neither of us apologized. Because we both knew it wasn't a mistake—it was just biology meeting bad timing.
"I like the way you think, Arthur," Serena continued. "You see the world for what it actually is, not for what it's 'supposed' to be."
She hesitated for a second, then went for it. "I don't go on quests often. But I've never met a werewolf like you. Smart, restrained… it's like a human soul is just trapped in there."
I gave a dry laugh. "I'm just trying to get home."
She nodded. She didn't know what "home" meant to me, but she respected the grind.
"This was my choice," she said, resting her hand on her mace, her voice firm. "Everything that happened. My choice."
The silence returned, but it was thinner now. That weird, fragile connection was hanging between us, waiting for someone to name it or kill it.
"I guess this is where we part ways," I said.
Serena bit her lip. Not like she was in pain, but like she was making a final decision.
"Yes," she said. "This is it."
I gripped the silver coin, feeling the leftover warmth from her hand. Deal closed. Boundary drawn.
She started to turn away, then stopped. "But just because it's over… doesn't mean it wasn't important."
I looked at her, and I mean really looked at her.
"I know," I said. "That's the problem."
We stood there for one more beat. Then, she took a step back. Just one step, but it was enough.
"May you find your way home, Arthur."
"And may your peace… actually give you some peace, Serena."
She turned and headed toward the Cathedral. She didn't look back. I think we both knew that if she did, neither of us would be able to go back to being the people we were trying so hard to be.
I turned the other way, heading back into the grimy, wolfish world I belonged in.
I didn't look back either.