Alan couldn't sleep all night, twisting and turning. Not wanting to be near anyone, he had laid on the roof of the Men's Guest Room. The stars above offered no comfort, and his mind was a restless sea of thoughts. "How much have I changed?" he wondered, staring at the sky.
If he looked in the mirror right now, he knew he wouldn't see the reflection of his past self. The stoic, straightforward, goal-driven, detached-from-society, loner Alan was gone.
Instead, he'd gaze upon a complete stranger who had forgotten his goals, left his identity behind somewhere below in Pompeii. Although he still wrote his observations and findings in his notebook, the text in it was far from the precise research of the hidden scout spy he used to be. Now, they resembled a logbook of a traveler who was enjoying his findings rather than documenting them as cold, hard facts.
All night, the question echoed in Alan's mind like a haunting melody: 'Who am I?' With every passing thought, its essence shifted, weaving through the tapestry of his past.
Alan found himself reflecting on the transformation he had undergone and questioning its roots. Why had these companions, whom he had known for a mere six months, become his closest confidants, while the memories of those he had grown up with remained distant and faded?
He now bore the title of husband, a label he had never envisioned using to refer to another. His relationship with Relecta was a reality his former self could never have fathomed. Yet, amid the turmoil of their marital discord, he grappled with conflicting emotions. The Alan of yesteryears would have severed ties with Relecta at the first sign of betrayal. But this Alan, though seething with anger, found himself more upset with his own actions, regretting the hurtful words he had hurled at his beloved.
As the first light of dawn casted its glow upon the roof, stirring him from his restless slumber, Alan turned away, reluctant to face the arrival of a new day. A nagging thought had taken root in his mind: "When did I become like this? Should I revert to the Alan of the past?" Yet, Alan found himself grappling with uncertainty.
He couldn't deny that meeting Relecta had introduced him to a myriad of new experiences and emotions, awakening aspects of himself he never knew existed.
She had unveiled a new world to him, one filled with vibrant connections, unfamiliar faces, and stirring emotions. But as he weighed the prospect of returning to his former stoicism, Alan couldn't shake the realization that doing so would mean relinquishing everything he had come to cherish in this newfound existence. Was he willing to risk it all for the chance to reclaim his past self?
Before Alan's introspection could deepen, a resounding thud shattered the silence, jolting him back to reality. Hastily, he descended from the roof and found himself in the hallway below.
Aurelia stood before Armis, her hand raised in a fierce slap that had left its mark on his cheek. Armis, seething with restrained anger, met her gaze with a glare, his jaw clenched in an effort to contain his fury. Unfazed, Aurelia, clad in her nightgown, confronted him with fierce words.
"The hell are you glaring at, you creep?!!" she spat.
Confusion clouded Alan's mind as he approached, only to be joined by Lyco, who emerged from the guest room, his expression a mix of surprise and concern at the unfolding scene.
Attempting to quell the escalating tension, Lyco swiftly stepped in between Armis and Aurelia, his voice urgent as he sought to defuse the situation.
"Guys, what happened?!! Aurelia, stop yelling y—"
"Move, Lyco!!! You have no idea what this creep has done!!" Aurelia interrupted, forcefully pushing Lyco aside. Ignoring Lyco's attempts to intervene, she closed in on Armis, her gaze burning with intensity. With a sudden surge of emotion, Aurelia grabbed Armis and slammed him against the wall. Tears streamed down her face as she unleashed her fury.
"You womanizer!!! Poduria's sister, really?!!! You bastard!!! What have I left you that she was going to give you?!!"
"I didn't do anything, It was just some touching which she started!…" Armis retorted, gritting his teeth in anger as he attempted to argue with flimsy reasoning. But Aurelia was unfazed, her fury unabated as she slung back with even more fervor.
"OH REALLY?!!! You baby, it's a good thing she didn't give you a sweet and try to have her way with you, huh? Don't lie to me, You Bastard!!! I know you'd screw anything with legs!!!!" Aurelia lunged at Armis, her fists pounding helplessly against his broad chest, leaving marks but failing to elicit any pained groans from Armis.
He continued to glare at Aurelia, helplessly grabbing her hands in an attempt to hug her and calm her down. But Aurelia, too angry for comfort, broke away from Armis's grip, pushing him away once more. With a final scathing remark, she stormed off, yelling over her shoulder, "STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU CREEP!!!"
Alan and the others stood shocked and surprised by the heated exchange. As Alan watched Aurelia storming away, his eyes caught a glimpse of Relecta standing in the corner.
Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her face was downturned, with her lip bearing biting marks—a telltale sign of her stress.
Relecta looked at Alan with longing, hoping for some interaction, but Alan felt a pang of pain slice across his heart. He was too hurt for any meaningful conversation and averted his eyes. Instead, he forced a fake smile onto his face and turned his gaze to Lyco, who already seemed gripped by anxiety after witnessing the early morning drama.
Lyco noticed Alan's distant gaze and was about to say something when Alan abruptly cut him off, words tumbling out of his mouth.
"Oh my heavens, what wonderful friends I have," Alan exclaimed sarcastically. He quickly hooked his arm with Lyco's, pulling him along like an excited child skipping through the hallway. Alan completely ignored Relecta's sad gaze and Lyco's startled reaction, leaving Armis behind, gnashing his teeth in frustration.
Once they were far enough down the hallway, Alan released Lyco's arm and leaned against the wall, letting out a deep sigh. Lyco, puzzled and concerned, moved closer and gazed at Alan, asking, "Is everything alright, buddy? You seem a bit off. I don't know if you've noticed, but you're acting kind of strange."
"Huh? What?" Alan instantly exclaimed back, puzzled by Lyco's cryptic remark. Alan straightened up and turned towards the other hallway,
"Alan... has something happened between you and Relecta? Did you guys have a f—" Lyco began, brushing off Alan's weirdness, he attempted to voice his observations, but Alan swiftly grabbed onto Lyco's shoulders tightly, halting his words. With a soft expression and a low comforting voice, Alan intervened,
"Lyco, listen… These two days belong to you and Poduria. Why don't we enjoy them as much as we can, focusing solely on you two? So, tell me, what's our first stop?"
Still not convinced of Alan's sanity but understanding his choice of not sharing his discord with his wife, Lyco sighed. After pondering for a moment, he replied, "Well, Arian said that the Crimson Army would be waiting for us at Regal Tailors in the Cathedral's pilgrimage market, so yeah, I guess we'll be starting from there."
"Okay, so you get the bastard, and I'll procure us some breakfast," Alan replied instantly after Lyco's answer. His fake enthusiasm was evident to Lyco. Lyco watched with a weirded-out gaze as Alan walked down the other hallway, leaving Lyco with the responsibility to get Armis ready for their outing.
Still keeping up the fake enthusiasm, Alan walked down the stairs towards the kitchen. As he neared, he saw Poduria walking out. Noticing Alan, Poduria's eyes widened in surprise. She quickly approached him and, before greeting, commented on his recovering physique.
"I guess someone's enjoying Silverforth hospitality, huh? Your complexion has improved from before, Alan."
Alan smiled at Poduria's remark, eliciting a smiling response in return. Suddenly, he remembered the events of last night and shifted his tone. Looking at Poduria with concern, he asked, "Oh...yeah, I guess. By the way, how are you holding up, Poduria? Everything good with the family? Sorry I didn't get time to check up on you before."
Poduria, keeping up her smile, responded in a relieved tone, "Yeah, you could say that. We had some moments, but everything is fine now. They're happy and more enthusiastic than before." Then, noticing Alan's demeanor, she added, "Speaking of enthusiasm, you seem awfully giddy this morning. Any particular reason?"
"Nah…I'm just feeling grateful for the friends I've got, like you!" Alan replied to Poduria's query with sarcasm-laced enthusiasm. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he continued with a big, fake smile, "So anyway, could you fix me up with some breakfast for me and the guys? And I heard you're also having the Allegare Ceremony. What are your plans?"
Poduria, initially surprised by Alan's odd behavior, shifted her focus to his request. She turned and called out to Aurelia in the kitchen, "Hey Aurelia, can you get me some bread and milk for Alan, Lyco, and Armis?"
Aurelia, busy in the kitchen, acknowledged Poduria's request. Poduria then turned back to Alan and replied, maintaining her humble demeanor, "Yeah, well, Relecta, Aurelia, my sister, and I have already given the sizes and designs of our wedding attires to Regal Tailors this morning." She glanced around before leaning in closer to Alan and whispering in a disappointed tone, "And I tell you, it was not a very good start."
Alan quickly caught on to her cryptic remark and replied, "So, I'm guessing that's when it happened?"
"Yes, unfortunately," Poduria confirmed, matching Alan's tone.
Alan glanced into the kitchen behind Poduria, ensuring Aurelia's absence. Leaning in, he whispered, "So, how's your sister?"
Poduria sighed, her voice tinged with concern and disappointment. "Well, you know what they say, you can choose your friends but not your family. She still has her bitchy attitude and doesn't regret anything."
Alan chuckled at Poduria's remark, which confused her momentarily. Just then, Aurelia appeared behind Poduria, carrying a plate full of bread and a jug brimming with milk. Handing the food to Alan, she asked in a carefree low voice, "So, you're all going out?"
"Yeah... We're planning to go to the tailors first, then maybe the florist? I'm not sure. Armis and Arian planned the whole thing," Alan replied, a hint of confusion in his tone as he tried to match Aurelia's carefree demeanor.
At the mention of Armis, Aurelia gritted her teeth. Leaning closer to Alan, she glared into his eyes with suppressed fury and growled, "If you are going out, please do me a favor and throw him in the river."
Alan maintained his obnoxious smile at Aurelia, squinting his eyes as he replied, "Sure, I'll make sure he drowns."
Surprising both Aurelia and Poduria, Alan turned around and suddenly found Relecta standing in front of him, her gaze downcast. A shiver spread across his body as he tried to control his emotions. Before Relecta could raise her eyes to meet his, Alan swiftly turned and moved past her, leaving her behind with a longing gaze. Relecta watched Alan walk away, almost crying in anguish.
Poduria quickly embraced Relecta before a tear could fall, with Aurelia patting her head to comfort her. "He's still not talking to you? Damn bastard, all men are the same. You shouldn't cry, Relecta. What you did was for his own good; he's just too dense to see it."
Poduria, trying to offer support, unknowingly deepened Relecta's despair as she watched Alan walk away, disappearing through the threshold. "Yeah, but still, it is our fault for hiding that from him. He's hurt. Just give him some time."
After a mandatory breakfast, Alan, Lyco, and Armis traversed through lush greenery, crossing a footbridge over the river before arriving at the Grand Cathedral. Its interior was as majestic as its exterior. Entering through the giant glass gate adorned with precious shiny gems, they stepped into the main hall. The cathedral, built like a castle, welcomed them with its shiny emerald marble floor and a 50-foot-high roof made entirely of glass and crystals.
The hallway was lined with small shops catering to the needs of pilgrims. At the end of the hallway was another grand entrance leading to the main cathedral building. Alan, Lyco, and Armis, all draped in multicolored knee-length overalls provided by the Silverforths, walked down the hallway, searching for Arian and other members of the Crimson Army among the bustling crowd.
Alan, surprised by the bustling crowd of Pompeiians this high up in the Relic Tower, voiced his observation aloud, "A lot of people in what's considered the hellhole of the wretched..."
Lyco chimed in, explaining Alan's thoughts as his eyes scanned for his brother. "Oh, it's because the pilgrimage has started again. I was surprised too at first, but earlier, Father Zeneth told me that Master Longiseus had barred the pilgrims from traversing to this floor because of Augustus..." Realizing the name he had uttered, Lyco cautiously glanced at Armis. Seeing him lost in his own thoughts with an angered expression, Lyco sighed in relief and continued, "And when Augustus was killed, Longiseus had the pilgrimage resumed by sending a letter through the 41st floor window."
"Hmmm... interesting... oh, hey, there they are!" Alan began to contemplate Lyco's explanation but suddenly noticed Arian and Longiseus, along with Orioros, Bretren, and Leotrus standing outside a fancy shop. They were all clad in simple white overalls that somewhat matched the colour of their armour. The shop looked familiar to Alan, as it held some similarities to the shop, where he had his armour and attire designed, back in Pompeii. Amused by the coincidence, Alan quickly approached the shop, gazing it up and down before remarking, "Hey, I recognize this place."
"Hey, where were you three?!!! Do you know how long we've been waiting? Never mind us, but how dare you make the Commander wait, you peasants?!!!" Ignoring Alan's exclamation, Arian began berating the group for their tardiness. Longiseus, gesturing towards Arian, brushed off his anger and their delay, speaking in a tone completely opposite from his usual stern demeanor.
"Now, now, Arian, don't sour the mood. We're celebrating your brother's wedding. Try to keep a happy face."
Arian, gulping back his anger, noticed Armis's bitter mood and approached with a mischievous smile. "Well, what happened to the brute?" Armis, ignoring Arian's advance, averted his gaze with an angry groan. But Arian, still not backing away, decided to push Armis's further. "Wait... don't tell me your girlfriend found out about that girl and you, right? Ha ha, I knew it and I told you!!! H—"
"Shut up, pisshead! Now, come on!! We don't have all day." Armis snapped at Arian's teasing, wrangling his neck in his arm and began pulling him inside the shop with him, followed by Bretren, Leotrus and Orioros.
Longiseus, puzzled by their interaction, turned to Alan and asked, "What is up with him?"
Alan responded with a fake, obnoxious smile and squinting eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Ah... marital bliss. Who can understand it better than you, oh wise Master Longiseus?"
Even more perplexed by Alan's cryptic response, Longiseus looked at Lyco, who shared his confusion but with a hint of embarrassment. Longiseus remarked, "Your friends are weird."
"Yeah, very weird," Lyco replied hastily, trying to hide his embarrassed gaze. He quickly entered the shop, followed by the still puzzled and confused Longiseus.
As the group entered the shop, Alan found the interior of the shop very familiar. There was a large desk, which had all the tools of a tailor placed upon it, behind the desk after some space there numerous rolls of fabric were lined beautifully. The interior of the shop was attuned to Alan's taste, not too fancy, just brandishing of different types of fabric set in shelves which covered the whole shop added charm to it. Alan's surprise rose even higher as he saw the shopkeeper, standing behind the desk, was the same he had encountered in the similar shop, where he had his attire made.
"Hey! I know you. Remember me? I had my armor and attire custom-made by you. It was a piece of work. It stood sturdy through many battles. I just want to thank you for your splendid craftsmanship." Alan quickly approached the tailor, grabbing his hand and shaking it in gratitude, startling the man.
As Alan finished his words of thanks, the tailor stepped back, bowing slightly. "I'm humbled you liked your attire, sir, but I cannot accept your gratitude. The person you speak of is not me but my twin brother, Seamus Artisen. I am Reamus Artisen."
Alan, surprised by Reamus's explanation, stared at him with wide eyes. Despite magnifying his gaze, he couldn't find any difference in their appearances. Puzzled, Alan asked, "Really? I'm sure it was you who I met back in Inges Emporium."
"Fairly certain, my liege," Reamus replied with utmost respect. "I haven't left the 48th floor for quite some time. However, I do remember my brother mentioning a patron with odd and difficult requests for his attire, whose lady scraped his latest creation like a spoiled brat." Reamus's words brought a touch of pondering as he reminded Alan of his encounter with Seamus.
Hearing that, the bittersweet memory of his shopping spree with Relecta resurfaced, causing Alan's feigned enthusiasm to falter. He averted his eyes, looking down as he recalled Relecta's tear-streaked face from this morning, comparing it to their loving moments.
"Hey, Alan!" Lyco's call snapped Alan out of his contemplation. He turned to see Lyco standing on a stool, draped in a stunning outfit. The attire featured a waist-length open green overcoat adorned with intricate golden thread designs. Underneath, Lyco wore a faded lime-colored tunic and semi-loose black pants, complemented by a classy pouch hanging from the waist. His knee-length brown boots with shiny golden buckles completed the look. The outfit highlighted Lyco's fair complexion and refined his innocent features.
Alan, genuinely impressed by Lyco's choice of attire, complimented him warmly, "Wow, Lyco, you look handsome. Nice choice, my man," he said as he approached, gazing at their reflections in the giant obsidian mirror.
"Oh, nah man, it's Poduria's choice. Arian told me he helped her pick this out when they came earlier to choose their own attires." Alan, once again surprised by Arian's unexpected forethought for his brother, turned to Arian with a mocking, yet amused smile. Arian, caught off guard, averted his gaze as a flush of embarrassment crossed his face.
After teasing Arian, Alan suddenly responded to Lyco's words and turned toward the tailor with an excited gaze. "Hey! So if the ladies came earlier, you should have their sizes, right?"
Weirded out by Alan's sudden inquiry, Reamus gave him a puzzled look. "Ah... very creepy request, sir, but yes, I do."
Realizing how his question sounded, Alan quickly corrected himself. "Oh, sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant to ask is that one of the ladies who came in the morning was my wife. I wanted to have a new attire and armor made for her for raiding."
Still creeped out by Alan, Reamus maintained his gaze as he slowly retrieved a book from under his desk. Placing it on top, he asked hesitantly, "I suppose, if you can provide me with a name, maybe I can look it up for you."
"Yeah, her name is Relecta. Please check."
Hearing Alan's conversation with Reamus, Longiseus, curious, stepped closer to the tailor's desk. Reamus flipped through the book, his finger sliding across the pages until it stopped in the middle. Confusion spread across his face as he looked up at Alan and asked, "There are two ladies with that name. You need to help me out here. Is your spouse Relecta Silverforth or Relecta Circha?"
Alan's eyes widened in amazement and surprise as he heard his own surname paired with Relecta's. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, a blush spreading across his face. A weird sensation of happiness washed over him, which even Longiseus found odd. As Alan stood frozen, staring at Reamus, lost in thought, Reamus called out, snapping him back to reality.
"Sir... sir... which one?" Reamus repeated.
"Oh, sorry... yeah, it's Relecta Circha," Alan replied, trying to hide his embarrassment with a hesitant tone.
"Very well then. Any particular design or fabric you have in mind, sir?" Reamus asked as he put the book back and brought out a giant catalog filled with fabric samples. He opened it in front of Alan, presenting various choices for Relecta's attire.
"I'm not sure, but I trusted your brother's excellent taste, and it worked out for me, so I'll leave it up to you," Alan replied, conveying his trust in Reamus's skill with a humble gaze. Reamus smiled and followed up with a question.
"Ah, very well. Any personal requests or specific requirements, sir?" Reamus asked.
"Yeah, just keep in mind that she's a water element wielder. The attire should have properties that enhance that ability and resist getting wet easily," Alan replied.
"Ah, very well, sir. In that case, I shall use fine leather made from the skin of pygmy whales found on level 25," Reamus said.
"Oh yeah, I remember those. They live deep in the lakes, and their skin can handle pressure easily," Alan interjected, recalling his encounters with the creatures out loud. Pleased with Alan's knowledge, Reamus continued.
"Yes, quite accurate, sir. One more thing, though. The lady requested her outfit to be made a little looser than her original size. Would you like me to follow those instructions?" Reamus asked.
"Huh? She did?" Alan was surprised by Relecta's unexpected request. He knew she preferred her clothes to be snug and flattering, a preference she had picked up from Aurelia. This request was completely out of character for her. Then it dawned on him—it could be her way of trying to make up to him by dressing according to his standards. A pang of sadness hit Alan as he realized Relecta's thoughtfulness.
"No, please keep them to her original sizes," Alan said, deciding to honor her usual preferences. "And maybe this—" Alan tried to explain her dress size, using hand gestures to mimic her bosom's measurements, inadvertently embarrassing both himself and Reamus.
Averting his eyes from Alan's awkward display, Reamus coughed and said, "Sir, explaining in numbers will do just fine."
"Ah... don't mind him, Reamus, he's new to this... marital bliss," Longiseus teased as he approached from the side, enjoying Alan's discomfort. Alan quickly ceased his embarrassing display, clasping his hands behind his back and shooting a glare at Longiseus.
"Ah... yes. Forgive me," Alan stammered, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Just keep the size two numbers tighter than the ones she mentioned."
Chuckling at Alan's discomfort, Reamus picked up the catalog and moved away from the desk. Alan turned his gaze toward Longiseus, attempting to hide his embarrassment with flimsy reasoning and a loud voice.
"And no!! I do know all about it," Alan protested, his voice a little too loud. "It's just that I wanted to explain my request better."
"Sure you do. Ah... one more thing," Longiseus interjected, chuckling at Alan's hasty response. Shifting his tone to stern, he informed Alan, "I wanted to tell you that you don't have to buy any armor for yourself. The Crimson Army will provide you and your whole party with top-level armors and supplies."
Surprised by the unexpected benevolence, Alan smiled mockingly at Longiseus as he turned towards him and asked, "Really?! Why? Any particular reason for the uncalled-for blessing?"
Longiseus nodded solemnly. "Yes, as you all are going to help us in the battle with the Lord of the Monsters of Floor 50th, I have direct orders from the Elites and the Almighty Pope that Team Goliath shall be rewarded handsomely for their accomplishments."
This fed even more to Alan's rising curiosity. After contemplating for a moment, he replied with a mild smile, "Hmm, so I guess we are famous, huh?"
"Quite...P—"
"Hey Alan, come check out your attire," Lyco's call interrupted Longiseus's response. Alan and Longiseus turned, finding themselves oddly amazed when they saw
Armis standing with a weirdly proud smile on his face. He wore a black robe with beautiful patterns stitched over it in crimson thread, its lapels wide and adorned with three big shining gold buttons. Underneath, he had a black overall, tied with loose thread, barely covering his wide and muscular chest. Below that, Armis wore black tights and matching boots, the whole ensemble complementing his macho personality and bulky physique.
"Someone looks less bastardy and more dashing," Alan teased Armis with a mocking compliment, to which Armis responded with ignorance, lost in admiration of his own appearance. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror with self-love and pride dripping from his eyes.
"Aurelia chose for him," Lyco remarked as he handed Alan a set of clothes, explaining, "And here, this is for you. Try it on; Relecta chose it for you."
Alan took the attire from Lyco's hand and gazed at it in surprise and strange relief. The outfit Relecta had decided for him consisted of a simple white buttoned overall with a black sleeveless robe that had a wave cut from the waist and big shiny buttons as an option for closure. Below the pant were loose yet fitted fabric, ensuring they wouldn't turn into baggy pants. The outfit, simple as it was, perfectly suited Alan's taste in clothing, bringing a mild smile to his lips and softening his heart for Relecta.
Alan, stopping himself from almost shedding a tear, raised his gaze and observed in surprise and puzzlement as he found all the members of the Crimson Army dressed in a similar attire: black robes underneath white overalls and black tights. Confused by the weird uniformity, Alan asked in a mocking tone, "I didn't know we were going to attend some meeting."
Longiseus and most of the other members ignored Alan's remark on their attires with a smile. But marching forward, nearing Alan's face, Arian growled at Alan, "It is the commander's choice. If he wants us to look the same, then we will look the same, and you are not permitted to jest about it. Understood?"
Alan replied only with a stern, mocking gaze to Arian's retort. He swiftly turned, grabbing Lyco's hand, and began exiting the shop while teasing Arian further, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. We are done here. Hurry, take us to our next stop."
Arian gritted his teeth as Armis followed Alan, and Lyco along with the rest of the members of the Crimson Army, and after them, Longiseus, who patted Arian's back with a smile, instantly dissipating his anger before nudging Arian towards the exit himself.