Extra Pages: The Author's Odyssey

Mara watched the scene from afar. Lucas's arrow shattered the mana barrier and pierced the target's chest and tore apart it's heart. The shattered crumbs of the mana barrier fell down on the collapsed target like snow.

A black arrow, blue glass-like fragments, and crimson blood. The harmony of the three drew a beautiful picture, and Mara quietly closed her eyes.

Crimson blood.

Hot blood.

The target wasn't a fallen human.

Bodyguards in the scene quickly rushed up to the target. They guessed the position of the assassination through the target's collapsed posture and began racing forward.

Mara opened her notebook. Lucas's location was being displayed in real time. Currently, he was in the middle of running away. He quickly reached the city streets, then slowed down when he reached a certain point. It seemed he got off his bike.

Mara began to run to where he stopped.

One minute was enough.

He was sitting on the terrace of a coffee shop wearing a pair of sunglasses and a suitcase on one side.

"...."

Mara was shocked. Was that the attitude of a person who just killed a man?

However, she soon realized she was wrong. His hands were shaking, and his forehead was dripping with cold sweat.

Mara approached him slowly.

Mara moved cautiously toward Lucas, her footsteps barely making a sound on the pavement. She could see the tension in his posture, the slight tremor in his hands as they gripped the edge of the table. His face was unreadable behind the sunglasses, but the signs of strain were clear—the shallow breaths, the tightness in his shoulders.

Despite the calm exterior he tried to project, the weight of what he'd just done was bearing down on him.

Mara paused a few feet away, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. She wasn't here to comfort him, but she also wasn't here to push him over the edge. Her job was to assess, to observe, and to report back. And right now, Lucas was showing cracks in the armor.

"Lucas," she said softly, her voice cutting through the ambient noise of the café. "You did well."

He didn't respond at first, his eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses, but his hands stopped shaking for a moment. Slowly, he turned his head toward her, a mixture of confusion and guardedness crossing his face.

"You…" he began, his voice hoarse. "You were watching?"

Mara nodded, slipping into the chair across from him. "I saw everything. Roan's death was quick, clean. The barrier fell just like it was supposed to, and the arrow struck perfectly."

Lucas exhaled, slumping slightly in his seat. "Good… that's good."

But Mara wasn't finished. She leaned forward, her gaze piercing. "But you're not okay, are you?"

His grip tightened on the table again. He tried to shrug it off, to play it cool, but the facade was slipping. "I did what I had to do. It was just a mission and I did what I had too."

"That's not what I'm asking," Mara said quietly. "You've killed before, but this was different, wasn't it?"

Lucas went silent, the question hanging between them like a heavy cloud.

Mara could sense the conflict swirling inside him. She had seen this before—assassins, mercenaries, soldiers. They all reached this point at some time. The moment when the weight of their actions started to press down on them, forcing them to confront the darker parts of themselves.

"You didn't enjoy it," she said, her voice softer now. "But you did it anyway."

Lucas's jaw clenched, and he looked away, his hands now steadying themselves on the suitcase beside him. "I didn't have a choice."

Mara leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "There's always a choice, Lucas. But you made the one you thought was necessary. That's what matters."

For a long time, neither of them spoke. The bustling sounds of the city continued around them, oblivious to the turmoil at their small table. Finally, Mara stood up, her eyes never leaving his face.

"You're not done yet," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "There will be more targets, more missions. You've got the skill, but you need to decide if you can handle the weight that comes with it."

Lucas didn't look up, but Mara could see his mind working, wrestling with the reality of what he had signed up for.

"I'll manage," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Mara staire at Lucas's face for moment and leave the place, after all she also have to report the mission success to her boss.

...And as for Lucas, he sat there in silence for hour and got up and decided to head back.

*"*"

Late night.

I returned to Nova Academy. I felt drowsy, but the sensation of the trigger and the image of fresh blood shooting up into the air were still vivid in my mind.

Feeling somewhat dirty, I walked along the dark road blankly.

"Huu."

Before I noticed, I was inside my dorm, standing in front of my room.

I opened the door to my room, the familiar creak of the hinges echoing through the dim hallway. Stepping inside, the silence felt almost suffocating. The shadows in the room seemed to stretch, shifting with each flicker of the dim overhead light. My eyes drifted to the desk near the window, still cluttered with books and papers I hadn't touched in days.

Everything here was the same, but I wasn't.

The weight of what I'd done clung to me like an invisible chain. I could still feel the tension in my fingers, the recoil of the bowstring, the way the arrow had sliced through the air. That moment—the exact second the mana barrier shattered and Roan's heart gave out—replayed in my mind over and over again.

I dropped the suitcase on the floor, leaning against the wall as I shut my eyes for a moment. The cold sweat had dried on my skin, but the chill lingered. My hands, steady now, felt heavy.

Killing Roan had been necessary. The mission was clear, and I knew the stakes. But standing here, alone in my room, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted inside me. Was it guilt? Regret? No. It wasn't that simple.

I moved to the bathroom, flicking on the light. My reflection stared back at me, tired and worn. The sunglasses were still in place, hiding my eyes, but I couldn't hide from myself. I leaned over the sink, splashing cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the remnants of the night.

But the blood… it wouldn't leave.

I gripped the sides of the sink, letting the water run until the sound drowned out the thoughts in my head. I could still hear Mara's words. 'You didn't enjoy it, but you did it anyway.'

She wasn't wrong. I didn't enjoy it. But I wasn't sure if that was a comfort or a curse.

After a long moment, I straightened up, peeling off the layers of my clothes as I headed to the shower.

The hot water felt like a balm against my skin, but it did little to soothe the restlessness inside. I stood there, letting the water run over me, hoping that maybe—just maybe—it would wash away the feeling of Roan's blood on my hands.

But it didn't.

Once I stepped out, the quiet of the dorm returned, and I found myself sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window into the night. I was back at Nova Academy, back where things were supposed to be normal.

But nothing felt normal anymore.

'There's always a choice, Lucas,'Mara had said.

I wondered if that was true. Because right now, it didn't feel like I had one.

Finally, I lay back on the bed, exhaustion pulling at me. But even as my eyes closed, sleep refused to come.

Because the moment I shut my eyes, I saw Roan's face, the arrow piercing his chest, and the blood that followed.

Tomorrow, I'd have to face the Academy, act like everything was fine. But tonight… tonight, I'd wrestle with the silence.