Happenings on the Field Trip [8] - Revenge

"So, you're still a smart-ass, huh?" the brown-haired girl teased, her wavy locks framing her beautiful face as a playful smile danced on her lips.

"And you're still as disrespectful as ever, aren't you?" Elias retorted with a playful grin, a soft smile breaking through despite the turmoil within him.

"...You're the only person I respect, and you know it," she said, her eyes gazing away, unable to meet his.

"...Yeah, I know." His smile faded, replaced by a more somber expression.

"Where are we?" he asked, needing answers.

"Well, I suppose calling it a dream isn't too far off," she snapped her fingers, and the room with all its contents vanished, leaving them in a boundless white space.

"...So, you really aren't real," he said, his voice tinged with both acceptance and a desperate hope for denial. His eyes stared down at the white ground.

"Well, what is real? Is it something you can touch or feel? Or see and hear? Then what about your memories? You can't see or touch them, yet you're certain they're real," she mused, walking right and then left, her steps carefree, almost innocently childish.

"...I don't understand what you're getting at, Lili."

"Do you think I'm real?" she asked simply, her gaze piercing through his confusion.

"..."

"Well, I suppose there's no 'real' answer." She paused, glancing at Quill to see if he caught the subtle pun.

He simply shook his head, prompting her to continue, "Ahem... The simplest way to explain it is that I'm a product of your memory and your expectations of your sister. I respond the way you believe Liliane would. This means I only know what you know. So instead of asking senseless questions, shouldn't you be wondering how you ended up here?"

Her last sentence jolted Elias back to reality, bringing forth the memories before he fell unconscious. Silas giving him the tea, Weiss forcing him to drink it.

Rage. It surged within him once more. Elias's fists clenched tightly, his eyes visibly trembling with anger.

"...You're still angry?" she asked, her voice gentle yet firm.

"How can I not be!" he shouted, his voice raw with emotion, his gaze locked onto his younger sister's serious face.

"I-I am sorry, I-I didn't mean to..."

"You can't change the past, so why let the past change you?"

Again, he couldn't control the volume of his voice.

"I shouldn't even be able to change anything! I shouldn't even be alive! I—I should have been the one drinking the poison that night; it was meant for me!" His voice broke, rage morphing into frustration, ultimately giving way to pain and sadness.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. "I—I should have been the one to die, not you. Why, just why did you have to drink that damn cup!"

Liliane balled her left hand into a fist and, without hesitation, aimed and hit Elias straight in the stomach. "You think I would have drunk it if I knew it was poisoned?!" she shouted, her voice filled with anguish as Elias doubled over, clutching his stomach in pain.

"I'm the one who's gone, so what gives you the right to act like you are!," she continued, tears flowing from her hazelnut eyes as well.

"Eli... let go of the anger, stop blaming yourself, stop grieving for me..." Her voice grew tender as she brushed away her tears.

"I'll return back. I won't leave you alo—"

"To do what!" she cut him off. "Spend hours at my grave? Chase after pointless revenge? Do you really think that would make me happy?"

"You're not even the real Liliane! How could you possibly know what would make her happy?!" Elias shouted back, his voice breaking.

"...Deep down, you know the truth in my words. If not, I wouldn't even be saying them! ...I may not be the real Liliane, but I'm the closest thing to her, created from your love and the precious memories you hold of her."

"...So what, you want me to remain in this world, forget everything, live a happy life as if nothing happened?!"

"Yes! ...Yes, I would love that." Liliane said softly, her smile tender and sincere. Elias's eyes widened, unable to find words.

"Find a path that brings you joy and forgive yourself. I don't mind where that takes you. But watching you like this is painful. Revenge won't bring me back, and your grief will only drive us further apart."

"..."

A few minutes passed without any words filling the white space.

"...Eli, you should wake up now."

"W-What? No, we have all the time in the world. Let's just spend time together, y-yeah, maybe a simple picnic,"Elias stammered, frantically waving his hands, tears streaming down his face again.

"Elias!" she shouted, her voice firm yet gentle.

"..."

Elias took a deep breath, his face turning into a soft smile once again. "...When did you become so much more mature than me?"

"As early as I could think," she replied, both of them sharing a final, heartfelt laugh together.

"...Eli, I love you."

Elias closed his eyes. "Yeah, ...I love you too, Lili," he whispered as the white space began to darken.

/||\

Quill's eyes fluttered open, adjusting from the blinding white to the sudden darkness surrounding him.

He felt the cool forest air on his skin and heard the distant rustle of leaves.

As he stood up, his vision cleared, and he began to take in his surroundings.

His mind raced, piecing together what had happened.

'Weiss... Where is she?!' He scanned the area, his heart pounding.

Two shadowy figures came into focus—one on the ground and the other standing over it.

As he approached, he noticed traces of blood and patches of burnt grass. The scent of iron hung in the air, mingling with the earthy smell of the forest floor.

'What happened here?'

His body, still weak from the potion, struggled to keep balanced as he moved closer. His steps were unsteady, his vision wavering.

"Erisa...?" he called out, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried through the quiet night.

As he drew nearer, he saw Erisa standing tall, her eyes sharp, while Weiss lay on the ground, visibly injured.

'They were fighting... Did she come to rescue me?'

It made sense. Erisa, a close relative of the Family Head and a loyal member of the Nocturne family, would do anything to save someone of his position, regardless of his personal character.

"Master Quill... There is no need for concern," Erisa said, her voice steady but laced with an underlying tension. Her gaze shifted back to Weiss, whose dark blue eyes widened in shock at the sight of Quill.

"H-How?" Weiss whispered, her voice trembling, disbelief etched on her face.

Quill had pieced the puzzle together. 

The mystery that had never been solved in the novel—the reason behind Weiss Licht's strength and motivation, her brother's death, and the video he had received—now pointed directly at him.

Quill Nocturne was responsible for Weiss Licht's brother's death.

Though he couldn't have been one of the people who directly killed him, it made sense that he had orchestrated it.

Quill and Weiss were both 18; the girl in the video seemed much younger.

Elias concluded that the girl witnessing the white-haired boy's death was Weiss Licht herself.

Quill Nocturne must have been the mastermind, possibly hiring others to do the deed. It had to be something like that; otherwise, Weiss's actions didn't make sense.

"Erisa... step away from her," he stated firmly, surprising Erisa, whose face furrowed in confusion.

"I don't understand. You should very well know that she is responsible for this situation. She attempted to murder you."

"I know."

"You know?" Erisa repeated, her tone incredulous."Then forgive me for asking, but why are you asking me to let her go?"

"...I command you to follow my words." Quill's voice was unwavering, his authority clear. She would follow his word; that was the benefit and weakness of loyalty.

Erisa hesitated but stepped aside, allowing Weiss to stand up. She did so with great effort, her body trembling from exhaustion and pain.

"Whatever happens now, you will not intervene," Quill addressed Erisa, his red eyes locked onto Weiss.

'I could most likely end her with ease,' he thought, scanning her injuries and noting her clear lack of strength. She was long past her limit, driven solely by her will for revenge.

'But that wouldn't solve anything.'

He couldn't bring himself to do it.

Ending one of the main forces against the evil in this world wouldn't help him or anyone else.

Quill's eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "The night of the Reapers...!" he muttered, his body still shaking from the aftereffects of the potion.

'Dammit, I completly forgot about that... how long do I have until midnight?'

Quill had to resolve things with Weiss now, fast.

This confrontation would determine both of their futures.

Though her injuries were severe, a healing potion from Silas would help. The only problem was time.

Quill looked at Weiss, who was getting closer, slowly regaining as much energy as she could.

"Erisa, do you know what time it is?" Quill's voice was urgent, cutting through the tension.

"It's 10:49." Erisa responded without hesitation.

Quill let out a relieved sigh. 'So I still have an hour... It's better than nothing.'

He had a narrow window to calm Weiss down, help her regain her composure, and prepare her for the upcoming battle.

For this event, Weiss was far more important than him. Quill knew that.

The fact that Weiss could even put up a proper fight against Erisa without already being dead was a testament to her strength, something Quill couldn't match.

Weiss wasn't an evil character, far from it. Quill knew her best after all.

She was driven by a pain he understood too well.

And there she stood now, face to face with Quill, her breathing heavy but steadier with each passing moment. 

Her white hair, illuminated by the moonlight, framed a face etched with both beauty and rage. His red eyes met her dark blue ones, both sets of eyes filled with unspoken emotions.

His favorite character brought to life.

Quill couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. 'I enjoyed—no, loved following her journey, and she wants to vehemently end mine. What a twist.'

Weiss was breathing heavily, but she regained her composure with every second she was able to rest, if this could be considered rest. .

"H-How dare you smile with that damn face of yours!" Weiss shouted, her voice trembling with rage. Quill simply listened, his expression unchanging, almost detached.

"I was weak, a naive child. I-I couldn't intervene— I stood frozen, hidden, unable to do anything while strangers beat him to death!"" Her shouts slowly transformed into anguished screams, yet her voice remained oddly pleasant to the ears—a jarring contrast to her words.

"All I did was cower and watch! I recorded the whole thing like some detached spectator!" she continued, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and sorrow.

Quill let her talk, the emotions he had felt during the scene in his tent was currently pushed down by him.

His anger wasn't necessarily directed at Silas or Weiss but at the torment his sister had endured.

They had unknowingly made him relive the fear and trauma his sister must have experienced, reawakening his own buried anguish.

Quill was still mad, furious even, but his Traits allowed him to act logically, not emotionally, at least for this moment.

"I clung to the desperate hope," Weiss continued, now only three feet away from Quill, "that my family's elders would care. But do you know what they said?" She paused, her voice dripping with bitterness.

"..." Quill remained silent, his face serious, absorbing every word.

"They said we shouldn't risk angering the Nocturne family! Three lowlifes connected to your damn family, and the elders were terrified!"

It was a cruel path but logically the best. The Licht family was not powerless, but against strongholds like Nocturne, Sunshower, or Sol, they were nothing.

"And when I finally gained the strength to stand on my own, I killed those three bastards with my own power. The Nocturnes didn't even care—they were so worthless, not even blood-related to the family. But do you know the shocking revelation I made that night? The last piece of the puzzle—the real reason those cowards refused to act justly. A Family Head had hired those three bastards to do his dirty work."

'...But shouldn't Quill himself have been a child then? Was he that much of a... monster?'

Weiss continued, the heavy burden she had carried needing to be let out.

"I couldn't find out who it was. How could I? No one was decent enough to help me. But then, miraculously, documents appeared, even photographic evidence, sent anonymously. And guess who it all pointed to."

'...Wait, what? After years of being stonewalled, someone suddenly decided to lead her to the truth? ...This feels like someone's attempt to steer her in a controlled direction.'

Her eyes locked onto Quill's. In this moment, if she had enough strength left, she would have summoned another weapon, but she couldn't.

She approached Quill, punching him with all her might.

Quill dodged with a sidestep, causing Weiss to fall to the ground next to him.

She stood back up, her fury unabated.

"I will kill you, Quill Nocturne, and make you grovel before my brother, Oscar."

Quill's mind raced with the many critical goals he needed to accomplish.

Each one was essential, and each one complicated by Weiss's clouded mind.

Weiss was a formidable character, destined to rival the protagonist in strength. She was an ally he needed, a foe best avoided.

Quill had not anticipated this entire series of events when he let Silas into his tent. He had been prepared for a confrontation with Silas, yes, but not with Weiss.

And then there was the most pressing issue—the impending danger that loomed over them all. Weiss was crucial in ensuring no one died tonight.

She needed a healing potion from Silas and to set aside her hatred, if only for tonight. 

At this moment, she was more important than Quill, he concluded.

Weiss aimed another punch at him, her fist connecting this time with his face and sending him sprawling to the ground, his nose bleeding.

She immediately straddled his prone body, her white hair glowing in the moonlight.

She punched again, and again, and again—each blow more vicious than the last. Blood sprayed left and right.

It hurt—every punch was agony—but Quill didn't want to stop it.

This was needed.

He needed to endure this, better now than when it was too late.

He needed to become accustomed to pain.

Another hit, and another.

"Bring Oscar back!" she screamed, her voice raw with emotion.

In a way, she and Elias were alike.

How many times had Elias fantasized about this scenario, imagining himself beating his sister's murderer, making them feel every ounce of pain, prolonging their suffering for hours, denying them the mercy of death until he was satisfied?

Another punch, and another. Quill's face began to swell.

Finally, he began to open his mouth, speaking through the pain.

"I- I can—" The words were difficult to form, every muscle in his body aching.

He tasted the metallic tang of blood. He couldn't even see Weiss's face clearly, only knowing she had momentarily stopped her punches.

"See—I can see it—" His head throbbed. The pain was unbearable, but he needed this.

"I can see it in your eyes. You've been— through hell. I'm— truly sorry," Quill finally said, perhaps these words were more for himself than anyone else.

Sudden drops of water fell on his skin.

'...Is it raining?'

He realized the sky was clear.

Tears streamed down Weiss's beautiful face.

She raised her fist once more, aiming for his face, but stopped just before impact. The wind from the force of her punch lifted Quill's hair slightly.

Her hand trembled, as if she was confused, unable to decide what to do.

Finally, she succumbed to her body's pleas for rest and collapsed, unconscious, onto Quill's body.

Quill breathed heavily.

This had been a necessary step. He needed Weiss to vent her rage. It would have only caused more trouble if it wasn't resolved now.

Was everything resolved? Surely not.

But Quill wouldn't let this sort of situation happen again.

He would find a better way forward.

Some might see this as a humiliating scene or a sign of weakness, but for Quill, it was the epitome of humanity. He showed humanity by understanding the pain of others, setting aside his anger.

Though he would make them both even one day, perhaps not with a fight but with something equally impactful.

And then there was Silas, someone he would definitely make even with a fight, Quill promised himself.

However, right now there was no time to waste. Erisa approached the two lying students, her eyes scanning their injuries with a cold, calculating gaze.

"—Erisa," Quill coughed, his voice ragged. "How long do you need to take us all to the camp?"

"Ten minutes," she replied, her tone efficient.

"What— time is it?" he asked, wincing as he tried to shift his weight.

"11:30 pm."

'It's still manageable...,' Quill thought, forcing himself to focus through the pain.

"Erisa, do you know— a student named Silas?" Quill asked, his voice growing steadier with each word.

"Yes, Silas Edel," she confirmed.

"Yes. He— has the gift to create useful— potions, including healing ones. He always has multiple prepared. Once we- reach the camp, locate him with the teacher navigation, and heal us with- them. It will be much— quicker than the camp's infirmary."

Erisa's eyes met his, showing no hint of resignation or doubt.

Without a word, she cut a wound open on her arm, the blood flowing out and forming a small platform.

She lifted Weiss off Quill's body, placing her on the floating red platform.

Then, she scooped Quill into her arms, holding him securely as she began to rush through the forest, the red platform following closely behind.

"Erisa, this might seem ...senseless, but— I need you to trust me— on this," Quill said, his voice firm despite his injuries.

She remained silent, as she navigated the forest with incredible speed.

"A swarm of Reapers will attack the camp, led by a— Devastator-Grade Reaper," Quill continued.

Erisa's red eyes narrowed, locking onto Quill's. "How do you know that?" she demanded, her voice icy.

"...It's complicated. Just trust me," Quill insisted. Seeing a small, almost imperceptible smile tug at the corner of her mouth took Quill by surprise.

"You've grown quite a bit, Master Quill." 

"I'm only— a year younger, Erisa," Quill replied, managing a weak smile.

"Exactly," she responded, her tone softening just a fraction.