• The One Who Found a Team

Mist's order was sharp, and it caused Deremiah to halt, obeying instinctively. He waited for a second as tension breezed through him, hearing her get on her feet.

'So we're gonna fight then,' he thought frantically, hand tightening on his sword. 'We're gonna fight.'

Mist tilted her head, scrutinizing him with her dagger eyes. "Where are you from, Deremiah?"

Hearing this, Deremiah's heart suddenly stopped pounding, and a wave of relief flushed through him. 'No fighting,' he thought. 'Not yet.'

His 25% odds was presently manifesting.

Slowly, he turned around, facing them all once again. His voice came steady, though his chest was tight with old instincts urging him to stay guarded. "Ander Salmarian."

A grunted gasp from Alfis broke the silence. "He's a slummer."

Deremiah caught the scornful look Alfis shot him. Pallock and the others, seated by the fire, seemed more curious than critical as they all gazed at him.

Mist, on the other hand, she was unfazed. Keeping her eyes locked on Deremiah, she stepped closer, continuously studying him in earnest. Deremiah held her gaze, as he too was buzzing with assessments and guesses of his own.

Soon they were only a breath's distance away from each other. Mist was undeniably a very beautiful young woman. She had scarlet hair that looked gallant under the firelight's glow. This hair framed her dainty face that was dusted with freckles.

She had verdant eyes that clearly showed that she was a wild and unreadable girl. Deremiah didn't want to think about her lips so he registered the armor she was wearing.

It wasn't an ordinary piece, that was certain; it was fitted for her noble bearing, crafted with precision from polished, lightweight steel with the Ember Clan sigil proudly ingrained on the breastplate.

A slender sword was strapped across her back, the hilt also bore the Ember Clan's sigil, matching the elegant practicality of her armor.

The nobles were fortunate that way. Expensive gear like this which most likely was reinforced with Aether or maybe even Void would certainly keep them protected against hard hits and fatal blows.

Just as Deremiah's inspection was coming to an end, it seemed Mist's was as well as she offered a small smile that puzzled him. Then, almost as if the matter was trivial, she asked, "Do you have somewhere else to be, Deremiah? Someone else to work with to complete the Trial?"

Deremiah hesitated, unsure if honesty was wise. But he shook his head. "No."

She smiled even more. "Have you seen the chasm?"

He nodded. "I have."

"Do you know a way to cross it on your own?"

Once again, Deremiah hesitated. But then he shook his head, seeing no point in lying for now. "No. I don't."

"Then join us," Mist said, her tone as straightforward as her gaze.

'What?'

"What?! Hold on, Mist," Alfis interjected, causing everyone to look his way. "What are you doing? Survival's already hard enough with just us. The more people we add, the more difficult it's gonna be. I already have to share with Pallock here from a crumbling Clan, there is no way I'm sharing with a slummer."

Mist frowned at this. "It's only one more addition, Alfis. And the rabbit's big enough to go round."

Pallock looked down at their cooked meal with a lot of doubt on his face concerning that statement.

"Besides," Mist added with a playful smirk as she turned back to Deremiah, "he's very handsome."

'Huh?'

"What?!" Alfis gaped, clearly taken aback. "Handsome? You're letting him join our team because he's handsome?"

'I am with him on this one,' Deremiah thought. 'Handsome? What is she talking about?'

Mist shrugged. "Among other things. Look Alfis, we're going to need all the help we can get to pass this Trial. Think about it; carrying the trees, creating the bridge, evading the Paragon beast and crossing the chasm. It's not exactly easy."

"And you think he's going to make much of a difference?"

Mist's frown stretched and she narrowed her eyes at him, clearly displeased. When she spoke again, her voice was harder and commanding. "You know what? I've made my decision, but we'll put it to a vote for the rest of the team. All in favor of Deremiah staying, raise your hand."

Without missing a beat, Faya, the ever loyal best friend, lifted her hand.

Mist's gaze drifted to the others. "And for him to leave?"

Alfis raised his hand, followed closely by Dane, who knew best to always follow his elder brother's lead.

Mist exhaled, a bit frustrated that they had to do this. "Tied, then. Pallock?"

"Mmh?" the fidgety boy raised his head.

"You're the tiebreaker. What's it going to be? Does Deremiah stay or leave?"

Pallock looked flustered. Caught between Alfis's harsh glare and Mist's expectant gaze, this somehow felt like the most important decision that he had ever been called to make.

His eyes darted toward Deremiah, whose unblinking purple stare only unsettled him further. Pallock swallowed hard, he was scared of this guy. But if this man was dangerous, the best thing to do was to be on his good side and not cast him out.

Also, even though choosing Alfis might spare him more trouble, he wanted to remain in Mist's favor, since she was the leader of the group, as it could lengthen his stay with them and his survival.

With a shaky breath, he nodded. "He stays."

"Good," Mist declared, grinning as if she always knew the outcome from the start. She looked at Deremiah and offered her hand. "Welcome to the team, Deremiah."

A grunt of reluctant acceptance came from Alfis. "Mist, whatever. Don't say I didn't warn you."

For Deremiah, he was thoroughly surprised. 'I never expected it to be that easy to be accepted by noble folk.'

Minutes later, they were all circled around the fire, the rabbit was no longer. It was now torn into pieces as they all scraped out the flesh from its bone and even sucking it after.

Mist sat unusually close to Deremiah. She would glance at him at intervals, a curious spark in her eyes every time she did. Deremiah pretended not to notice, focusing on the few pieces of meat left on his bone, but every time he caught her gaze, she only smiled in return.

Alfis glanced at them as well, a disgusted frown on his face each time he saw how Mist was basically gaping at him, like he was a bowl of her favorite soup.

Once Deremiah finished with his food, the atmosphere only got even weirder and he felt more and more like an intruder. They had all been chatting and laughing before he came, so it was fair to say his presence was the cause of this tense silence.

His best way to escape the tension was to bring up some kind of conversation. In honesty, conversing wasn't his strong suit, but making an attempt was far better than this awkwardness.

'Well, here I go...'

"So..." his voice came, making all of them glance at his direction. "...why haven't you guys started felling trees yet and making a bridge?"

"Oh," Mist was unsurprisingly the one to answer, "it was already getting late, so we decided to wait it out for the morning — whatever that is in this place — so that we can see better. In case the paragon inside the lava attacks."

She furrowed her brows then glanced at him. "You do know a paragon is in the lava, right?"

Deremiah nodded. "I do."

"Okay." She let out a happy sigh. "We'll start very early in the morning. Cutting down trees, gathering them, binding the trunks, carrying them, placing them to form the bridge. Somehow I suspect that the goal of this Trial is to form teamwork and trust."

Deremiah's eyes darkened in thought. 'I thought that too.'

"Strong trees are important too," Mist pointed out. "So that the paragon doesn't easily break it."

Faya nodded, staring at the distance where the chasm was as if she could see it from where she sat. "I'd rather it didn't. That's why we're binding the trunks isn't it? To make them sturdy enough to hold both our weights and the paragon's attacks."

"The rest," Mist looked up to the dark sky above, "is up to fate."

Deremiah glanced at her, noticing how intelligent and leader-like she actually was, including how they all seemed to naturally respect her.

Mist then brought her gaze back to him, she rested her jaw on a fist as she drew close to him, eyes gleaming with interest. "So, Deremiah," she said casually, "do you have a girlfriend?"

That caught Deremiah off guard. First he blinked, not even sure if the question was a serious one.

He did have a girlfriend back in his former life, but here, there were no memories of Deremiah Morcant's past that showed a love partner or interest.

Hesitantly, he answered, "No."

"Great." Her smile turned mischievous. "Then I can be your girlfriend."

Deremiah stared at her, caught between amusement and confusion. "What?"