3-13

When Bossia entered Marlis's office, she found Bassario already there. Usually, Marlis needed to speak with mercenaries alone, always calling them by name in meetings, but this time he privately had a soldier notify Bossia. This situation, along with Bassario's presence, made her feel that something significant was about to happen. Three days had passed since that unexpected meeting, and this was her first real encounter with Bassario again. He had recovered well, showing no signs of having been bedridden for several days. He didn't say anything, just smiled at her, and she responded with a calm smile. After all, this was Marlis's office, and Bossia didn't want that incident to overly influence her current performance, but she couldn't help but wonder what to do after they left together. Standing beside him, she slightly tilted her head, catching a glimpse of the arm he had caressed that day from the corner of her lowered gaze. The joy from intimate memories made Bossia feel an urge to hug and lean on this arm. To conceal this impulse, she quickly straightened up and looked at Marlis. However, she underestimated the night elf's ability to perceive human emotions—he frowned at her, flicking the document in his hand with two fingers, somewhat like a teacher knocking on the desk to warn students to focus. Bossia experienced a moment of embarrassment but was not unhappy. At least the frustration caused by the name issue that day did not control her emotions at this moment.

"To be brief, I don't need to explain why I called you both here simultaneously," Marlis began. "The guy who caused trouble with you the other day, the one called Champion, has disappeared. I don't care about scorpions, poisoned drinking games, or who is right or wrong. I just want to know if you have anything to say about his disappearance."

"This is the first time I'm hearing about it," Bossia said, looking at Bassario. "Someone mentioned it to me this morning," Bassario said. "Those who still owe him gambling debts are happy about it."

"Listen, I am not implying you did anything. During the estimated time of his disappearance, Agnes, you were on a mission. Bassario, you had just gotten out of bed and hadn't left the fortress. What I want to know is about before the conflict. Did either of you have any interaction with him? What do you know about him?"

Bossia replied that she knew nothing beyond Champion's scorpion fights. Bassario knew slightly more but still very little because Champion was one of those who were extremely reluctant to interact with the natives.

"If he disappeared voluntarily, can you guess the reason?"

"No," she said. Neither could he.

"I believe you. Since you two were the last to have close contact with him before he disappeared, I had to ask, even if I don't expect any substantial results. To be honest, when investigating his personal belongings, we found several letters in Twilight cipher. According to the rules, all mercenaries are forbidden to hide anything related to the Twilight Cult. If they keep anything, they must report it to me. So, he either broke this rule, or he was a plant by the Twilight Cult. Now that you know this, try to recall if he said or did anything related to the Twilight Cult."

"In the past six months, besides scorpion fighting, I haven't heard him talk about anything else. You should look for those closer to him, like those who won a lot of money thanks to his scorpions," Bassario said.

Marlis nodded and looked at Bossia. "What about you, anything you want to tell me?"

After five seconds of consideration, Bossia said nothing.

"Seems like not."

"Can I ask what those letters roughly said?" she asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Possibly."

"Well... that's the strange part. If the letters were about military matters or indicated communication with the cult, it would definitely be espionage. But they were just letters with little practical significance, mentioning the daily arrangements of these lunatics and some private correspondence. In Shawlt, useless to us. Of course, they haven't been fully translated yet because they recently changed a lot of word arrangements."

"Maybe he wanted to take these letters out to sell," she suggested.

"Sell them? They're just a pile of waste paper to anyone outside the Twilight Cult. Who would buy them?"

"As a soldier, you've always focused on eliminating the Twilight Cult, but others have different interests in them. For example, some religious scholars find Twilight cipher letters crucial for their research, especially those with personal information. They are willing to pay high prices for them."

"This is the first I've heard of it... I suppose these scholars with too much money to spend mostly gather in big cities."

"Indeed. They wouldn't come to these dangerous places to buy them."

"Okay, Agnes, this is somewhat convincing. But regardless, we need to strengthen our defenses against the Twilight Cult in the coming period. Do not disclose any of this conversation, especially about people willing to buy this waste paper. Got it? Good. There's another matter: I'm planning a large-scale attack on the Zora Hive to the west. I need you and my soldiers to work well together. This is very important and will impact the entire Silithus battle situation. I won't openly recruit; I'll select some people I trust. You two are on my consideration list, so be mentally prepared. It will be the most challenging but also the most rewarding task, though I won't force anyone to accept. You may leave now."

As the two walked toward the door, Marlis spoke again. "Wait, Agnes, you stay. Bassario, you go out first."

Bossia turned around, not looking at Bassario, but felt him pause behind her before leaving. She returned to her original position, waiting for Marlis to speak.

Marlis set down the document he had been holding and his gaze became calmer and deeper. The night elves have a unique insight developed over time, and those who truly master it do not look down on everything but instead continuously focus on the minutiae. Bossia knew he was focusing on her.

"You should be from Stormwind and well-educated. Don't worry, I won't investigate any mercenary's past, which is partly why you chose to come to Silithus. So, do you think this is a good job for you?"

"I don't know. But I should stay for a while longer."

"I rarely say this to others... I have a very bad job. Our race once suffered heavy losses against the Qiraji, and I am the one making amends for these losses. But not everyone—regardless of race—can properly understand my work. They only see waves of dead bugs returning with even greater force. The hope I see, many people cannot. Can you?"

"I don't know. I don't understand the overall situation on the battlefield."

"That's not what I'm talking about. Hope is... a positive vitality. My race has a long life, but the longer the life, the harder it is to keep every moment positive. In the worst cases, it can be a long process of decline. From my standpoint, this may seem hypocritical, but from some of you, I can truly feel the vitality that can become hope."

"Of course, you can say that. Our lives are Shawlt, so once something painful happens, it lasts longer for us."

"See, I warned that this might seem hypocritical, and yet you're still upset. But you must understand my meaning. In my eyes, those who grow up in Silithus represent this kind of vitality. I must be impartial to mercenaries and cannot try to control your values, but I highly value Bassario. His growth to this point has been incredibly difficult, and given your situation... I'll be blunt, Agnes. Bassario will definitely agree to participate in the large-scale attack I mentioned earlier. And I hope you will agree too, to stand by his side."

Bossia didn't know what to say.

"I know how difficult it is to build trust in this world, and the trust between you two is very precious. Before you, he almost never really cooperated with anyone. Speaking of which, I might sound hypocritical again. I see you both as hope, but if you don't fight, this hope cannot be realized, even though I don't sincerely want you both to risk your lives. But as I said, Bassario will certainly participate, so... this is not a demand or a request, but a hope that you will do so. Whatever happens, having you by his side will make things much better. You don't need to answer me. If you wish, go and talk to him now. You can leave."

Bossia left the office. She needed some time to digest what had just been said. Perhaps the night elf's profound insight easily gave mundane matters heavy meaning. She hadn't thought about it that much. She had come to Silithus, hated the bugs but had to adapt, and was troubled by some issues.

Saying it's not a demand, it's more annoying than a demand...

She looked up and saw Bassario standing a few steps away, looking at her.

"Were you waiting for me?" she asked, walking up.

"Yes. What did he say to you?"

"Nothing. He forbade me to tell."

"Alright then."

"That's it? You're not going to ask?"

"Didn't he forbid you to tell?"

"Forget it."

She walked forward.

"Wait a minute."

He grabbed her hand from behind. She didn't turn around.

"Have you been avoiding me these past two days?" Bassario asked.

"No."

"Then why..."

As Bassario spoke, Bossia felt the tendency to hear a particular string of syllables again. She turned around, pulled him close with force, hooked her right elbow around his neck, and brought her lips close to his ear.

"When it's just the two of us, call me Bossia," she said, adding a bit of force with her right hand. "Remember, that's my name."