(Chapter 121 Aftermath)
A tense standoff unfolded between the Tempest's soldiers and the Natlan warriors, the latter standing as an impenetrable barrier before the Abyss portal that had swallowed Tempest. The air crackled with tension, both sides gripping their weapons tightly, their gazes locked in an unyielding clash of will.
Mavuika stepped forward, her voice steady yet filled with a measured urgency.
"It is far too dangerous to charge headlong into the Abyss."
She said, her eyes reflecting both understanding and determination.
"We have no way of knowing what traps or horrors await us down there. Charging in recklessly might jeopardize everything. I'm not suggesting we abandon Tempest—I'd never say that. But we must tread carefully. I have faith in him. If anyone can hold their own in the Abyss, it's him. He's strong. He's resourceful. We owe it to him to approach this intelligently, not impulsively."
Her words hung in the air, but Constantine stepped forward, his voice cutting through the silence.
"With all due respect, Mavuika, we don't take orders from you."
He began, his tone firm yet measured.
"You're right, we don't know what horrors the Abyss holds. But that's precisely why we must act now. Every moment we delay is another moment His Grace faces unimaginable peril. If the only Duke of Fontaine has fallen, the nation will spiral into chaos. The people will panic, and worse still..."
His eyes narrowed, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"I can only imagine the wrath of a certain Lady when she learns of this."
The mention of the Lady sent a ripple of unease through the gathered soldiers, a reminder of the consequences that awaited failure. Constantine took a step closer to the Natlan warriors, his voice hardening.
"We don't have the luxury of waiting. Please, step aside, or we will make our way through, one way or another."
Mavuika's gaze softened, her lips pressing into a thin line as she considered his words. She understood the urgency but couldn't shake the feeling that blind courage might only deepen the tragedy. Yet, she said nothing more.
Constantine turned sharply, his piercing gaze locking onto Tirpitz. His voice carried the weight of a command, firm and unwavering.
"Tirpitz, gather every Ghost in your squad. We'll need their precision and stealth for what's ahead."
He said, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Tirpitz nodded, her expression calm and resolute.
"Got it."
She replied coolly before her form shimmered and vanished.
Constantine's attention shifted swiftly to Rohan.
"Rohan, rally the best knights of the Golden Hand. Only the finest among us can be trusted for this mission. We're going through that portal, and we're not coming back without him"
He said, his words brimming with conviction.
Rohan gave a curt nod, already turning to carry out the order.
Finally, Constantine turned to Mavuika, his voice softening slightly, though the determination in his eyes did not waver.
"Mavuika."
He began.
"I understand your caution, but please, step aside. This is not your nation's burden to bear, it's ours. Tempest is our leader, and we'll do what must be done to bring him back."
He paused, his expression softening just enough to show he meant no disrespect.
"That said, if you wish to repay His Grace for saving your city and giving you a chance to reignite the Sacred Flame, your help would not go unnoticed. We could use an ally with your strength and insight."
Mavuika studied him carefully, her lips pressed into a thin line as she weighed his words. Around them, the tension in the air grew, the soldiers and warriors preparing for whatever might come next. The portal loomed ominously behind the Natlan warriors, its swirling depths promising peril, and perhaps salvation.
Mavuika sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly before a small smile curved her lips. She raised her hand in a stop gesture, signaling Tempest's soldiers to stand down.
"Don't worry."
She said confidently, her voice carrying over the tension in the air.
"I'll handle this. And I'll bri-"
Before she could finish her sentence, a sudden flash of energy erupted from the portal, followed by a loud thud. Tempest was violently hurled out of the Abyss portal, his body crashing into the dirt with such force that dust billowed up around him. The portal behind him pulsed erratically for a moment before abruptly sealing shut, leaving only silence in its wake.
"Tempest?!"
Mavuika gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief as she took an instinctive step forward.
"Your Grace?!"
Constantine and Rohan exclaimed in unison, rushing to his side. They quickly helped him to his feet, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern.
Tempest groaned, his hand clutching his head as he struggled to steady himself.
"Seven hells..."
He muttered through gritted teeth, his voice low and strained as if even speaking required effort. His usual composed demeanor was replaced with exhaustion and pain, a rare and troubling sight.
As Constantine steadied him, something shifted beneath Tempest's coat, catching everyone's attention. A faint movement, subtle yet unmistakable, stirred within the folds of the fabric. Tempest's brow furrowed in confusion as he reached inside, pulling out a single object, Columbina's feather.
The feather glimmered faintly, the same ethereal sheen it had when it first came into his possession. Tempest scowled at it, his grip tightening. No matter how many times he thought he had rid himself of it, the damned feather always returned.
'Am I being played again?'
He thought bitterly, his jaw tightening as he stared at the feather, a symbol of some deeper manipulation he could not yet comprehend.
"In the damn Abyss, you could be headed for a serious strife... No-"
"Tempest!"
Mavuika's voice cut through Tempest's disjointed ramblings, snapping his attention away from the haunting fragments of the song Lumine had sung to him in the Abyss. The melody, etched into his mind like a curse, escaped his lips without intention, a soft and broken tune that carried an eerie weight.
Without hesitation, Mavuika dashed toward him, her expression a mixture of relief and worry. She placed both hands firmly on his shoulders, grounding him as she searched his weary eyes.
"You're back. Thank goodness."
She said, her voice trembling slightly despite the smile she offered him.
Tempest blinked, as if her words were pulling him from a distant place, and nodded faintly.
"Mm."
He gently brushed Mavuika's hands off, taking a step forward to assess the scene around him. His sharp eyes scanned the battlefield, a grim reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. The arena and surrounding streets were strewn with the bodies of fallen Hilichurls, their twisted forms scattered like broken toys. The wounded, both soldiers and civilians, were being tended to with hurried efficiency, their groans of pain mingling with the grim silence.
Despite the devastation, Tempest's mind wandered to another place, a darker memory that eclipsed the current scene. The brutal battle for Stormwind flashed through his thoughts, the horrors of that day seared into his soul. Compared to that carnage, this battlefield, though grim, felt almost bearable.
"I want to ask you what happened in the Abyss and how you managed to escape. I really do…"
Mavuika's voice trailed off, the weight of the question hanging in the air. Her eyes darkened as she looked around the battlefield, the grim reality setting in.
"But right now, I need to gather my warriors and support the other six tribes. What happened here may not be the same for the others. I can't afford to waste any time."
Her expression was pained but resolute, the urgency of the situation demanding her attention.
Tempest nodded, his gaze still distant as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle. He had felt the gravity of the situation the moment he was thrown back into the world, but now, with Mavuika's words, the weight of his responsibility returned full force.
"Ah, about that…"
Tempest's voice was calm, as if he were discussing something entirely mundane.
"Don't worry about the other tribes. Before I marched over here, I sent a thousand heavy cavalry to each of them. I assure you, they're not fending for themselves."
Mavuika blinked, her initial shock quickly shifting to a mix of surprise and wariness.
"You… Why? How could I ever repay such a thing?"
Her voice softened with genuine gratitude, but that emotion quickly turned bitter as her mind connected the dots.
"Oh, right… You most likely did this to force my hand, to make me accept your offer, didn't you?"
Her tone grew sharp, the edge of suspicion creeping in. She couldn't shake the feeling that Tempest's kindness was nothing more than a calculated move for his own ambitions.
Tempest's brow arched slightly, a flicker of amusement crossing his features.
"Ungrateful now, are we?"
He asked, the words almost playful, but there was an unmistakable undercurrent of tension.
Mavuika's eyes narrowed, frustration bubbling beneath her composed exterior. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm before responding.
"Fine…"
She sighed, the weight of her words heavy. "You won. It's only fair, I suppose."
Her words were reluctant, but there was a begrudging acceptance in her voice. She knew she couldn't deny the reality of the situation. Tempest had played the game well, and she had no choice but to acknowledge his victory, no matter how much it stung.
As Tempest retrieved the scroll from his coat, a disappointed look flickered across Mavuika's face, her mind already preparing for the inevitable terms he would present. The last thing she wanted was to be cornered into an agreement that felt more like a trap than a partnership.
But her expression shifted abruptly when, instead of handing her the scroll, Tempest raised it to his own chest and, with a swift motion, ignited it with his Pyro Delusion. The flames flickered and crackled as they consumed the parchment, reducing it to ash in an instant.
Mavuika blinked in surprise, her frustration momentarily forgotten.
"What are you doing?"
She asked, her voice laced with confusion.
Tempest's eyes locked onto hers, his gaze steady and unyielding.
"Seeing how you fight for your people."
He said, his tone softer than before but still filled with purpose.
"Changed my perspective of you, Mavuika. I've come to understand that your loyalty to your people is no mere facade. It's something real, something worth fighting for. Because of that, I'm willing to change the proposal."
Mavuika's eyes widened, the tension in her chest loosening for the first time since their conversation began. But before she could respond, Tempest raised a single finger, pointing directly at her.
"Under one condition."
He added, his voice low and commanding, as though the air itself was charged with his resolve.
Mavuika's brow furrowed, unsure of what was coming next, but Tempest's words cut through her thoughts.
"Fight me, Mavuika. I want to have a spar with the God of War herself."