Years passed, and the world slowly healed.
Under Henry’s rule, the age of bloodshed gave way to sothing new.
He rose as the Alpha King not through conquest, but through compassion—chosen by both survivors and forr rivals, not just for his strength, but for his wisdom.
He abolished the old ways—the endless wars over land, pride, and dominance.
Instead, he built a council from every region, every tribe. Disputes were settled with negotiation, not violence. Packs were encouraged to aid each other in tis of hardship, not exploit weakness.
Freedom was sacred, but not without rules—rules shaped by fairness and mutual respect.
Under Henry, they began to live for more than just survival.
He beca a leader others looked up to—a wolf of courage and kindness. Yet, behind his calm gaze and steady voice, there was always a quiet shadow that never left him.
He never forgot the rogue who died for him.
Nor the nymph who vanished with the body of the one she loved.
No one knew what beca of Liora after the war. She had disappeared, taking Lyander’s broken form with her.
There were whispers, of course. Stories told in hushed tones around fires—that she had gone to the Lagoon.
That she never left it.
Henry often returned to that place.
It rained there more than anywhere else—an endless, gentle drizzle that never truly stopped. And when he stood on the stone ridge overlooking the waters, he could still feel her presence.
The Lagoon had once been Lyander’s sanctuary. A place of peace, where the world seed to hush around him. It was where he and Liora had sealed their bond, once—beneath the silver moon, when the world had still held hope.
She had brought his body back to that sacred place. Laid him beneath the water, controlling it with her powers, where ti could not touch him.
And there she stayed, day after day, never leaving, even as the world moved on.
But for defying her kind—intervening in mortal affairs, loving a wolf, and turning her back on the laws of the forest—Liora had been cast out.
Banished.
Cursed to fade.
Still, she never left. Not even when her skin began to pale, when her voice no longer stirred the wind, when the glow of her spirit began to dim.
She would sit by the edge of the water, hands folded, eyes distant—watching over him. Speaking to him in silence.
Until, one day, she was gone.
Not with a cry or a storm—but like mist in morning light. Her body dissolved, strand by strand, into the waters that cradled Lyander. She beca part of the Lagoon itself—its stillness, its sorrow, its rain.
And even now, Henry stands at its shore from ti to ti. Watching. Waiting. Wondering.
And though he says nothing, in his heart he knows:
She is still there. Watching over him. Both of them. Together, in the rain.
=== 🖤 ===
"Welco back, Host. Not celebrating your flawless victory this ti?" the bunny chid, twirling his cane like a smug magician as I reappeared in the void.
I crossed my arms. "Is it just , or are you purposefully making all the villains in these worlds look like emotional copy-pastes of the last arcs?"
The bunny’s ears gave a lazy flick. "What’s wrong? Still moping over Lyander’s death? I thought this was all just a ga to you."
"Anyone would be affected, okay? He was—he was basically the emotional backbone of that arc!" I huffed. "And I treat every ga close to my heart!"
The bunny gave a skeptical look, then flipped open a holographic panel. "Well, emo monologue aside, the system has awarded you ten stars for a job well done."
My eyes sparkled instantly. "Wait—TEN? Not five?!"
"B-rank worlds have a different scoring system," the bunny replied dryly. "Ten is the highest."
"YESSS!" I fist-pumped. "Finally! That ans I can go for a rank up now, right? No more werewolf drama, no more mana managent stress—just straight to the A-rank world, baby!"
The bunny cleared his throat. "Actually, there’s a prerequisite. You need a hundred stars before you’re eligible for A-rank transfers."
I blinked. "A hundred? Are you serious?! That’s like—ten perfect missions!"
"Wow, you can math," he said, deadpan. "Want a sticker?"
I glared. "Co on. Can’t you just . . . fudge the numbers a little? Bump up? I’ve emotionally suffered enough. And does this an that Rank-A world have higher rewards stars? What’s in there anyway that you required 100 stars to begin with? Is it really that hard?"
"Rules are rules. Besides, you don’t want to spoil the surprise, do you?" the bunny wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
I hesitated. "Actually . . . no. Don’t tell . I like surprises. But seriously, twenty-four stars and not even enough to buy a health potion from the shop? This economy sucks."
"Then just finish a few more B-rank missions with perfect scores," the bunny said, nonchalant. "Easy peasy."
I rolled my eyes. "Fine, let’s get this over with. What’s my next world?"
The bunny brightened and gave a flashy twirl of his cane. "Modern world, this ti! Urban setting. Very grounded. Lots of Wi-Fi."
I sighed. "Ugh. And here I was hoping for a fantasy setting again. Maybe vampires. Or dragons. Or vampire-dragons."
Suddenly, the bunny thumped his staff to the ground—and a sudden gust of taphysical nonsense sucker-punched in the gut.
My eyes rolled back as the wind yeeted my soul like a discount plastic bag into the void.
"Wait—THIS is still your travel thod?!" I shrieked as I was carried off, limbs flailing. "Ever heard of a PORTAL, you PETA violation?!"
"Rember, Host," the bunny called out, barely suppressing a giggle. "The villain must win . . . !"
And with that, my soul vanished into the ether.
The void quieted.
The bunny finally let out a breath. "For a newbie, she’s certainly enthusiastic. But that’s good . . . She’ll need it for what’s comin—"
ERRORERROR
ERRORERROR
". . . Huh?" The bunny blinked. A red warning flashed across the system interface. That was never good.
He tapped a few holograms. His eyes widened. "No. No no no—this can’t be right."
The bunny stared at the screen in disbelief.
HOST HAS BEEN TRANSFERRED TO: RANK-A WORLD.
CONFIRMATION: IRREVERSIBLE.GOOD LUCK. YOU’RE GONNA NEED IT.
He dropped his cane.
"Oh carrots . . . she’s so screwed."
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