'Wait, I'm Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I'm a Guy!'

Then came Liam’s voice, soft but unmistakably in her ears, breaking through her haze like a knife.

Pulling her thoughts away from whatever she was thinking at the moment.

“You’re thinking about something, aren’t you?”

He pressed his arms closer, rounding up her body against his.

“A-ah?” Mize blinked hard, her eyes snapping open as if shaken awake.

She flicked a quick glance toward his face, then just as quickly looked away. “I wasn’t.”

Her voice dry, at least she tried sounding it that way.

But to Liam, it was obvious.

Liam chuckled under his breath, the sound low and amused. “They say a woman lies when she’s caught red-handed.”

"I guess you are a very bad liar, no?"

Mize didn’t bother replying.

She simply let silence settle over her, a quiet refusal, her gaze fixed ahead as if she hadn’t heard him at all.

However, the way how her fingers twitched, her body jerked for a split second, it showed.

But then, almost cautiously, she tilted her head and lifted her eyes slightly.

Her lower lip tugged beneath her teeth, a small nibble of uncertainty.

“Hey, Liam… can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?” he replied, his tone patient. “What is it?”

Mize paused after getting the greenlight, replaying the scene where he talked with Harb before.

“Is there…” she hesitated, her breath catching for a moment, the words slow to form.

“Is there anything going on between your summoned generals?”

"Anything?"

"I-If you don't mind telling me"

Liam’s brow twitched, surprise flickering across his eyes, but he didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he leaned back slightly, letting the question hang in the air as his thoughts sank inward.

'Did Harb or Elias say something to her?'

He considered the possibility.

'So they’ve started playing their little games again. Trying to layer over the truth with something that looks clean'

Still silent, Liam let the moment pass, then slowly exhaled, slipping back into a casual posture as though puzzled by her concern.

“There’s nothing wrong with them. Why do you ask?”

“Well… I…” Mize fumbled, trying to piece the sentence together properly, but the words refused to cooperate.

She hesitated, visibly uneasy, as if afraid she might cross a line.

Then, she simply gave up.

Her shoulders lowered, and she shook her head, voice barely above a whisper. “N-nothing. I was just overthinking things.”

“I see…” Liam looked at her, not just a glance, but a gaze that lingered a second too long.

And then, with a flick of his finger, he tapped her forehead lightly.

“You’ve been overworking that little brain of yours lately. Take it easy. I’m here.”

“I know…” Mize mumbled, nodding faintly, eyes drifting downward, thoughtful and quiet.

“Tonight, just rest. I’ll handle everything else.”

With that, Liam stood, still holding her in his arms as if she weighed nothing.

Then, in one fluid, seamless motion, the two of them disappeared from where they were, leaving not even a breeze behind.

The scene shifted, drawing focus back to the town.

By this hour, the streets were alive with motion, packed shoulder to shoulder with people, their voices rising and falling in overlapping waves of chatter.

What this place had become in just over a week was almost surreal. Growth surged through every corner.

Wherever the eye landed, someone was stepping into a shop, exiting a building, or gawking at something new.

Nothing had been spared from the feverish momentum of commerce.

To outsiders, everything here looked bizarre, unfamiliar, and, most importantly, irresistibly unique.

There were restaurants dishing out unknown meals that steamed with peculiar scents.

Clothing stores lined with garments stitched in eccentric shapes and alien patterns.

And at the far end of the southern road, near the wall, there it was, an eerie, crooked structure touted as a haunted house, already attracting the brave and the foolish.

Construction was underway just about everywhere, except for the western wall, which remained untouched.

The rest of the town, however, looked like it was trying to double its size overnight.

And what drew the most gasps of astonishment wasn’t the pace.

It was the labor force.

The workers weren’t human.

Moving in smooth precision, tireless, shadowy figures, each one clearly an Awakened, lifted beams, stacked materials, and shaped buildings from the ground up.

“Such boldness! Using Awakeners for labor?” someone whispered in disbelief.

“Bold or not, the lord of this place doesn’t seem to be short on them.”

“I heard he’s a summoner, right? But summoning that many at once… That’s just broken.”

“Tch, what’s there to be shocked about? Professions these days are all over the place, nothing’s normal anymore.”

"Especially those lords on the outside, there had been a lot of ruckus recently. Some of the native lords even had to attack those foolish lords from making troubles"

"In the far south, there was a huge movement against those evil lords. I heard they were kidnapping women from the scattered villages"

"It's that bad?"

"It is!"

"But the lord of this territory is absolutely different from them. With enough strength, nothing else matters. We also could live in peace here, much better than those native lord cities"

The crowd murmured among themselves, casting glances at the Awakened shadows that passed them by without so much as a flicker of acknowledgement.

Amid the bustling flow of people, familiar figures emerged, faces that had once caught Mize’s attention.

Joyce, Bart, Kalen, Ilya, and Loyd.

All five walked together through the packed street, ears half-attuned to the murmurs around them.

Loyd, at the front, let out a quiet laugh as he shook his head. “The lord of this territory is terrifying. The number of soldiers he commands is… beyond what any of us can wrap our heads around.”

"I doubted even the closest native lord would dare to flaunt his presence here"

"Yeah, he is probably peeing his pant right now"

He exhaled slowly, letting the night air cool his thoughts as he kept walking.

The others followed, slipping through the flow like seasoned travelers.

Joyce’s eyes glittered with curiosity as she looked around, her gaze catching every strange sight the town had to offer.

She turned to Loyd, picking up on his comment.

“I think we’ve barely scratched the surface of this place,” she said. “The lord here… there’s something about him. Feels like he’s hiding more than he shows. You know like those evil villains in those stories?"

“To think he’s got an angel as his wife,” Bart cut in with a grin, voice loud and carefree. “That alone says plenty.”

He strode beside them, taking a massive bite out of a honey bread that was practically melting in his hand.

Steam still rose from the fresh batch he clutched to his chest in a paper bag, as if guarding treasure.

“A man who can hug an angel to sleep… ah, what a life! I wanna marry one too.”

Munch.

Another bite disappeared into his mouth, and Bart kept walking, blissfully content.

Ilya rolled her eyes and didn’t even try to hide her disdain. “If an angel ever married you, the world’s probably ending.”

“Hey, rude.” Bart frowned and turned away, wounded pride written all over his face.

At the back of the group, Kalen kept to himself, quiet as always.

He walked in silence, expression unreadable, but from time to time, his eyes drifted toward Ilya’s backside.

None of them noticed.

An assassin never makes the same mistake twice.

Kalen’s silence wasn’t anything new to the group.

They’d long grown used to his aloof demeanor.

After all, this team wasn’t one born of choice. It was a guild assignment, stitched together until they could break through to Tier 3.

Only then would they get the freedom to form a squad of their own.

For now, they walked without a goal, just wandering the streets, soaking in the atmosphere.

They’d bought a house here, after all.

Decided to settle down.

And why not? A dungeon rich in loot, a strange town brimming with surprises… it wasn’t a bad deal.

Especially the safety here, top notch.

As they walked on, winding through the night crowd, Joyce suddenly stopped short.

“Hey, look!” she said, pointing at a shop up ahead. “Isn’t that an alchemist store?”

Her voice caught their attention instantly.

“Huh?” Loyd followed her gaze, brows lifting in surprise. “No way… And here I thought we’d have to wait until morning to offload all that weird junk. Looks like luck’s on our side tonight.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Joyce grinned.

The group turned as one and headed toward the shop, which sat quietly along the edge of the street with a warm light glowing behind its windows.

Ring…

A soft bell chimed as the door swung open.

The “Open” sign hanging in the window glimmered faintly under the lamplight.

Inside, the group stepped into a cozy room lined with shelves full of odd vials, herbs, and glimmering trinkets.

Their eyes were immediately drawn to the boy behind the counter, who looked up with a start and quickly straightened himself.

“Welcome to the Mystra shop! Anything I can help you with?” he said with a practiced, polite smile.

He looked young, probably just entering his teens.

Not too tall, not too short. Slender build, a bit fragile-looking.

His blond bob-cut hair drooped over the left side of his face, hiding one eye completely beneath the curtain of gold.

Loyd stepped forward, Joyce beside him, while the rest of the team casually began wandering around the store, checking the wares.

“Ah, we’re here to sell some loot,” Loyd said, placing his hands on the counter. “Fresh haul from the dungeon today, no fakes"