Reaction and Matchmaking Attempts

Dead Mana Golems (297-299)

Eric gnawed at his fingers, picking at his skin and working his way through his nails with an unhealthy fixation.

It was harrowing, watching the devastation on the battlefield. Whiplash after whiplash left him disoriented and confused. The morbidly amused yet charming face of Imperial Prince Adin wasn't helping.

"Stop that," Amiru scolded from his right. Gilbert used the moment to slap his hand away.

"Ow?" Eric complained, holding his red wrist.

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "It was red before it touched you. Don't act like I actually hurt you."

"My emotions are hurt," Eric countered with ease.

Their bantering removed some of the stress. Even Amiru allowed a smile to grace her face.

"I am sure you will survive," Gilbert drawled, fighting a smile that threatened to break out.

Their Cale, the missing link between the four friends, eyed the group with a small smile as well. Humor looked good on Eric's face. The young man looked older than his actual age, and Cale guiltily admitted he was probably a large part of that reason.

He left behind the war. Be it future or past. The war wouldn't touch him.

But was it worth it?

Could Cale really just drop his family like discarded trash and live a brand new life with his older counterpart and the reincarnation of his mother?

The small girl his mother had become was still snoozing without worry in Kim Rok Soo's lap. Her dark hair was all over the place, with Kim Rok Soo looking rather sufferingly at the mess she had made.

His counterpart looked content, happy even. There was no regret, just memories.

It wasn't like Cale would be useful in the wars that were coming. He couldn't command an army, he couldn't save people, or predict the enemy's moves.

The scene on the screen was even more tense. Cale's face was pale, with small drops of blood adding color to his otherwise stoic expression. The widening of his eyes – just one moment, but it was enough for some spectators to notice – reflected his state of mind.

"I'm relieved. I'm glad you and I are on the same page, commander."

Adin started to smile.

"How disgusting," Bud snarled.

He was close to spitting fire, knowing what was to come, yet unable to help. As a mercenary, Bud had to harden his emotions. A feeble heart would shatter if it didn't construct a protection around it.

His group had morals, not something other mercenary bands took as granted.

Corpses of all kinds with crime lists higher than the sky, there was a valid reason why mercenaries were frowned upon. Uncouth. Bastards. Lawless.

Bud could speak from his high horse as a Swordmaster, but what about the helpless soldiers on the screen? Those who had been drafted without any information or the ability to deny? If they knew that their lives were worth less than a piece of stale bread to their rulers, would their already fragile trust shatter like glass?

Closing his eyes, Bud took a deep breath.

Once he opened them again, false tranquility replaced the anger. He wasn't the only one angered by Adin.

'I hope you fall down and break your back, you bastard!'

Cale's mind was boiling. However, he didn't let it show on his face. His gaze then turned toward the golems.