Chapter 52: Calmness
Alex didn’t chase the retreat.
She didn’t need to.
The battlefield already said everything she wanted it to say.
Bodies scattered.
Crushed interceptors.
Boot prints layered over with hoof marks.
And among the dead—
Several rings.
Necklaces.
Small enchanted trinkets etched with the carrot-cap sigil of the Greencap Kingdom.
She knelt beside the Bunny Captain.
“Make it clean,” she said calmly.
The captain tilted his helm.
“How?”
“Your civilians. Level 27. Hunted for loot.”
A pause.
“Greedy human divers.”
The captain’s whiskers twitched.
“Retaliation.”
Alex nodded once.
“Revenge of the cavalry.”
It was believable.
Human divers had already started hunting civilian rabbits.
Magic rings and earrings looked like loot to greedy eyes.
Black Web members carrying enchanted rabbit jewelry?
Perfect story.
Clean.
Easy to understand.
No mysterious farmer.
No hidden alliance.
No reveal of Camp Stymphalian.
Just greed meeting consequences.
The captain gave a short bow.
“It will be told that way.”
The treants shifted to help.
Bodies dragged.
Tracks changed.
Signs of battle thickened around civilian rabbit zones.
The story would spread through the gate within hours.
Alex watched only long enough to make sure it was thorough.
Then she turned.
And walked back toward camp.
By the time she returned, the fury had condensed.
Not gone.
Never gone.
But folded tight into something controlled.
She stepped into the clearing.
Phong looked up from tending peas.
He saw the faint flecks of dried blood on her sleeve.
He said nothing.
Just held her gaze.
She walked straight to him.
Didn’t speak at first.
Then she leaned down and pressed her forehead to his.
He could feel it in her breathing.
Heat still there.
Rage still there.
“You didn’t intervene,” she said quietly.
“I promised.”
She pulled back slightly.
“They were his.”
“I know.”
She exhaled slowly.
Then her voice changed.
Softer.
“But tonight…”
Her fingers slid into his collar.
“I’m being treated like a princess.”
He smiled faintly.
“Of course.”
She had just dismantled a ten-man kill squad.
Ordered a false narrative into place.
Killed without hesitation.
And now—
She wanted pampering.
She could turn like that.
Steel to silk in a heartbeat.
Merciless to those who threatened what she loved.
Ridiculously sweet to the one she chose.
Blade and sugar.
Yin and yang.
Alexandra Vogel was not a contradiction.
She was the whole thing at once.
Far away—
Olen was shaking.
Not from cold.
From realization.
The report came first.
Dead.
All of them.
Intercepted.
Ambushed.
Carrot-cap insignias found among their possessions.
Witness stories were already spreading.
[Divers attacked killer rabbits for loot.]
[Greencap cavalry retaliated.]
[Black Web wiped.]
Olen slammed his fist into the desk.
“Idiots.”
He replayed the data.
The jewelry.
The sigils.
The witness sketches.
It all made sense.
Greed.
Overreach.
Private divers trying to profit from civilian rabbits.
Punished by cavalry.
Clean explanation.
He should have expected more risk.
Should have assumed the rabbits were more aggressive now.
Should have—
He stopped.
His throat went dry.
Because under the anger, something else sat waiting.
If his father hadn’t stopped him…
If he had insisted on going…
He would have been there.
In that field.
Under those hooves.
Under those blades.
He clenched his fists harder.
He pictured himself surrounded by level 47 cavalry captains on a battlefield he did not understand.
For the first time, death felt real.
He swallowed that feeling.
Turned it into rage.
“Lucky farmer,” he muttered.
He believed it was luck.
He believed he had almost isolated the level 1 obstacle.
He believed the only bad variable had been greedy mercenaries.
He did not know—
His mapping had been heard.
His timing had been read.
Alexandra Vogel had never left Floor One.
He walked to the window and stared out over the city lights.
Across town, the Farmer Guild building glowed faintly.
He needed stability.
He needed control.
He needed momentum.
So he went there that night.
But instead of confidence, he found cracks.
The Farmer Guild hall was quieter than usual.
Boards once full of escort sign-ups were half empty.
Some names crossed out.
Some members inactive.
Some…
Dead.
The Bamboo Black Ant crisis had crushed morale.
The Greencap cavalry retaliation had finished the job.
Escort missions now carried too much risk.
Production-class divers were dying faster than investors could spin the story.
No new recruits.
Old members leaving.
The dream of “fixing” the exp bar now looked like bait.
Olen stood in the middle of the guild hall.
And felt something new.
Isolation.
His empire wasn’t growing.
It was shrinking.
He clenched his fists again.
Then—
He laughed.
Not lightly.
Not pleasantly.
It had a cracked edge to it.
If the guild collapsed—
If the model failed—
Then he would pivot.
He didn’t need a guild.
Didn’t need followers.
He would become the proof himself.
He would grind.
Farm.
Stack skills.
Level.
He was already level 14.
Thirteen skills.
He had optimized slaughter before.
He could optimize survival too.
He would reach 30.
He would evolve.
And when he did—
He would stand above every other production-class.
Above Dominic.
Above all of them.
Then he would look Alexandra Vogel in the eye.
Not as a suitor.
Not as a patient admirer.
But as the only farmer who made it.
He would make her regret choosing a level 1 nobody.
He would make her regret dismissing him.
He told himself that.
Repeated it.
Fed on it.
Outside, the wind grew colder.
In the dungeon, alliances grew stronger.
And Olen—
Still believed he was playing chess.
He had no idea the board under his feet belonged to someone else.
Phong had made a mistake.
A romantic one.
He had promised “princess treatment” without explaining which fairy tale.
More importantly—
Without explaining when it ended.
He had pictured something simple.
Carrying her bridal-style to bed.
Soft laughter.
Slow kisses.
A sweet, storybook kind of night.
He did carry her like a princess.
That part went exactly as imagined.
She even looped her arms around his neck and smiled at him like the heroine of a wholesome romance novel.
Then the novel changed genres.
Because what followed was not the beginning of a fairy tale.
It was three years into the marriage.
Confident.
Passionate.
Completely unfair to a level 1 farmer.
Alexandra Vogel, Arbiter Mindblade, A-class diver, battlefield horror—
Was very enthusiastic.
Phong learned that when Alex had fury earlier in the day, it did not vanish.
It redirected.
Into energy.
A lot of it.
He tried to keep up.
He really did.
At first it was manageable.
Then athletic.
Then borderline Olympic.
By the time the final stretch came, he was checking his status window in his head like a man staring at the last one percent battery on his phone.
Stoic Garlic.
Consumed.
Defense up.
Mental fortitude steady.
Still not enough.
Berserking Strawberry.
He hesitated for half a second.
Then bit.
Overdrive activated.
Double all stats for one minute.
He felt it at once.
Strength.
Stamina.
Coordination.
Everything surged.
He made it through the final burst of momentum.
And then—
Collapsed beside her, panting.
Waiting.
For the crash.
One full day of extreme weakness.
That was the price.
He braced for it.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Thirty.
A full minute passed.
Nothing.
He blinked.
Checked again.
Still the same.
He stared at the ceiling.
Then weakly facepalmed.
“Oh.”
Alex rolled onto her side and propped herself on one elbow.
“What?”
He groaned.
“My default state already counts as extreme weakness to the system.”
She stared at him.
Then burst into laughter.
Not cruel.
Just completely helpless with it.
She leaned over and poked his ribs.
“I never thought you’d use an overdrive button like that.”
He turned his head slowly and looked at her with full deadpan.
“I was fighting for my life.”
She bit her lip to stop another laugh.
Then leaned down and lightly bit his ear instead.
Soft.
Teasing.
“I know you enjoyed it too.”
He didn’t deny it.
Couldn’t.
Didn’t want to.
Outside, Rico was whispering way too loudly.
“Operation Eardrop commencing.”
Nyx and Bruno crouched near the tent flap like the worst spies alive.
Bruno’s tail wagged uncontrollably.
Nyx kept shushing him with increasing anger.
Rico squinted with fake drama.
“I sense… stamina depletion.”
A vine snapped out of nowhere.
Bonktato.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
All three yelped at once.
“Retreat! Retreat!”
They scattered like guilty children.
Inside the tent, Alex smirked faintly.
“Your camp security is efficient.”
“Very,” Phong muttered.
A few minutes later, the animals came back to protest loudly.
“Unfair!”
“You didn’t bring us to the fight!”
“You hog all the action!”
“Camp leader and lady both same!”
“Two peas in a pod!”
Phong ignored them completely.
He was too busy staring at the canvas ceiling and thinking about logistics instead of romance.
If things went bad—
If Olen escalated again—
He might need Séline and Camille to handle resource runs for a while.
They were mobile.
Trusted.
Able to move between floors without suspicion.
And Halloween was coming.
Surface distractions were useful.
A public vacation in Lyon?
Not the worst idea.
Séline and Camille were already back.
The French divers had a foothold near La Montagne des Chèvres.
If the whole camp traveled by dungeon route instead of commercial flight, the media would never know.
He pictured it for a moment.
Dominic confused by French pastries.
Janet judging European coffee.
Rico trying to negotiate cheese trades.
Nyx trying to duel decorative gargoyles.
Bruno barking at cathedral bells.
Alex walking beside him under autumn trees, pretending for once that none of this involved murder plots.
It was almost absurdly normal.
Almost.
Beside him, Alex shifted closer.
Rested her head on his chest.
Her breathing had finally steadied.
The fury from earlier was gone.
Replaced with warmth.
“You’re thinking again,” she murmured.
“Always.”
“About?”
“Logistics.”
She snorted softly.
“You just survived me and you’re thinking about logistics?”
“Yes.”
She traced a lazy circle on his collarbone.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Efficient.”
She lifted her head and looked at him.
Softer now.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For trusting me.”
He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.
“You don’t need permission to defend what’s yours.”
Her expression shifted slightly.
“What’s mine?”
He met her eyes.
“Me.”
She stared at him for a second.
Then leaned down and kissed him slowly.
Outside, Rico yelled,
“I demand compensation for emotional trauma!”
Another bonktato vine slapped him.
Bruno laughed.
Nyx declared it deserved.
Phong closed his eyes.
Exhausted.
Content.
Aware that somewhere out there, Olen was plotting.
Grinding.
Convincing himself he would win in the end.
But here—
Under a lime-oak tree that had grown into something impossible—
He held the woman who had crushed a kill squad without hesitation.
Steel and rose.
Blade and sugar.
And for tonight—
Princess.
He just hoped she didn’t ask for another fairy tale tomorrow.