As the two heroes walked side by side, Brandon's jaw was clenched, his agitation apparent. His usual calm demeanor was nowhere to be seen, and Faelan, noticing his tense expression, glanced over.
"Have you seen my message?" Brandon asked, his voice sharp, clearly trying to hold back his frustration.
Faelan blinked, genuinely surprised. "You sent a message?" She stopped walking, her head tilting slightly as she looked at him.
"Yeah, I did." Brandon's irritation deepened, his eyes narrowing. "How did you not notice? It should have alerted you." He gestured at her wrist. "Are you not wearing your watch?"
Faelan let out a scoff, rolling her eyes. "Well, duh, of course not. I was in a duel, remember?" Her incredulous tone caught Brandon off guard. "Why are you getting so worked up over this? I'm still your Guild Master, you know."
Brandon stood there, momentarily stunned by her retort. His mouth opened, but no words came out. After a few awkward seconds, he gathered his wits and took a deep breath, his expression softening. "Forgive me," he muttered, his voice calmer now, though still strained. "I've had a long day."
Faelan shrugged, walking ahead, her pace lazy as usual. "Happens to the best of us. What's going on, anyway?"
"The association's been pestering me about how I knew about Chris," Brandon explained, following her. His hands clenched at his sides, the tension from earlier slowly creeping back into his voice. "Just an hour ago, I was there, and I haven't even given a formal statement yet. Then I get word that Chris was assassinated right after I left. Now they're questioning me about that, too."
Faelan's brow furrowed slightly, though her tone remained casual. "The association really is incompetent, huh?" She glanced at him, then asked, almost offhandedly, "So did they cover it up?"
Brandon sighed heavily. "Yeah. They're going to say they already transported him to Pandora, and a month from now, they'll announce he died from some illness." He sounded bitter, as if the weight of the association's lies was crushing him.
Faelan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "So that's how they're handling it this time." She waved a hand, as if dismissing the entire ordeal. "So, how did Chris get assassinated? Did they catch the culprit?" Her tone was lazy now, clearly losing interest.
Brandon shook his head. "He was killed by a curse. No one could trace it back to the caster, but it's likely the Red Well was behind it."
At the mention of the Red Well, Faelan's curiosity piqued again. "The Red Well?" she repeated, now turning to face him fully. "Why do you think that?"
Brandon hesitated, running a hand through his hair as if trying to piece the puzzle together. "It's from the boy we rescued in the Bright Dungeon." His voice lowered, his tone almost conspiratorial. "He was a trainee agent of the Red Well. He escaped… and he's the one who ratted out Chris to me."
Faelan's eyes widened slightly, her hand moving to her chin as she fell into thought. "An escapee from the Red Well?" She sounded genuinely impressed. "That's… not easy to do. I wonder how he managed to pull that off."
Brandon's face grew grim, the lines on his forehead deepening as he rubbed his temples. "I want to ask you a favor, Guild Master." His voice was firm, but there was a weight to his words that Faelan hadn't heard before.
She stopped walking, eyeing him with an amused smile. "A favor?" She chuckled. "That's rare. Today's getting more interesting by the minute."
Brandon took a deep breath, gathering himself before speaking again. "Can you make it so the guild becomes the official guardian of the boy?"
Faelan raised an eyebrow, not expecting this request. "Guardian? Why?" She folded her arms, her voice curious but tinged with skepticism.
"Because he's going to work with us—to bring down the Red Well." Brandon's gaze didn't falter, locking eyes with hers. "That's what the boy… no, Alex, proposed to me."
There was a brief silence as they stood facing each other, the air between them thick with unspoken questions. Faelan's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied Brandon's expression, searching for something beneath his words.
"Do you really think you can fool me, Brandon?" Faelan's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension. She took a step forward, her eyes locked onto his. "If that's the only reason, we could just hand him over to the association. For all their incompetence, they're much bigger than us—more connections, more resources, more manpower. They have a wider reach than our guild ever will." She paused, her voice low and dangerous. "So, tell me the real reason."
Brandon shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, sweat beginning to form on his brow. He thought for a moment, weighing his next words carefully. Finally, he sighed and spoke, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "I want him to have a normal life while he's helping us. Do you really think the association will give him that?"
Faelan stared at him, her sharp gaze softening just a fraction as she considered his words. The tension between them grew palpable, the weight of Brandon's request hanging heavy in the air.
"You're serious about this." Faelan's tone was unreadable, her eyes still piercing through him.
Brandon didn't flinch. "I am. The association will just use him—exploit him. I want to give him a chance at something more, something better."
For a long moment, Faelan said nothing, simply watching Brandon as if testing his resolve. Then, finally, she relented, exhaling softly. "You're right. The association would chew him up and spit him out." She shook her head, a slight smile playing on her lips. "I'll talk to some people I know, see if we can make it happen. But before I make any decisions, I want to meet this Alex for myself."
Her voice grew cold, her eyes narrowing once again. "After all, if he sets off my danger sense…"
"We'll kill him," Brandon finished grimly. His voice was firm, leaving no room for debate.
"As long as you understand that," Faelan replied, her smile fading as her tone turned serious. "If he poses a threat to us, I'll personally make sure he never sees the light of day again."
With that, they reached the end of the arena, stepping into the waiting car. The chauffeur, sensing the heavy atmosphere between the two heroes, opened the door for them with trembling hands.
"To the hospital, ma'am, sir," the chauffeur said nervously as they slid into the back seat.
The car ride was silent, the air thick with tension. Faelan stared out the window, her mind clearly racing, while Brandon sat rigidly in his seat, lost in thought. The grim atmosphere between them seemed to permeate the very air, weighing down the space like a storm cloud.
Finally, the car pulled up to the hospital. "We're here," the chauffeur announced, his voice shaky.
Without a word, Faelan and Brandon stepped out of the car, their expressions unreadable as they approached the hospital doors. The weight of their conversation still hung between them, and as they prepared to meet Alex, both of them knew that this meeting could change everything.