The silence in the tent was a living thing—soft, deliberate, and never static.
Luthar's terminal glowed in front of him, casting a pale light over his face. Data lines flowed like quiet rivers, and diagrams shifted with each calculated input. The servo-skull hovered idly above, motionless, as if it sensed the stillness he desired.
Outside, the faint sounds of the camp had become distant. The occasional laugh, the rustle of boots, and the chatter of adventurers.
He did not pay them any mind.
The canvas behind him moved without warning.
The scent arrived first—a faint sense of presence. He did not, however, turn.
He understood.
Freya said nothing as she entered the tent. Her movements were graceful, but not theatrical.
She approached him silently, her eyes scanning the tent. Then, without saying anything, she stepped behind him.
Both of her hands rose—not abruptly, not tentatively—and rested gently on his shoulders. Not gripping or pulling. Simply being there.
Luthar's stylus remained still. The data remained scrolling.
"You did not join the others," Freya said quietly, her voice as smooth as dusk.
"There is work to do," he said without looking back. "There is not much time."
A breath exchanged between them.
"Well, now that I am here, have you considered changing your mind?" She murmured, her gaze focused on the flickering lines of code.
He pondered the words. Then, "I do not have time."
Freya's hands lingered for a moment longer before sliding down his arms—not possessive, just present.
"Hermes is not happy that you are keeping all the good stuff to yourself," she said simply. "He is probably already planning to make you a bell, little follower."
He turned his head just slightly. Not to confront her completely, but enough.
After 3 seconds, he says, "I guess I should prepare my guns," followed by the question, "So do you know what he is planning?".
Freya took a step back—not far, but enough to restore silence between them.
Luthar remained stationary.
"How would I know?" she finally asked, folding her arms loosely under her chest. "I simply refuse to participate in his intriguing plan, so there is no way he will tell me."
Her attention shifted to the collection of suspended schematics floating in the air. "But, given his personality, he will simply delegate his tasks to others."
Luthar leaned back in his chair, his fingers tucked beneath his Mask. "I guess now I have to decide whether we should fund his return to heaven now or wait for him to make a move."
Freya's lips curved slightly—amused but not mocking. "You assume it is about strength. Hermes is creating myths. "He is not going to face you."
"It does not change that he is going to waste my time," Luthar said quietly.
"Do not talk about wasting time; you sound like a short-lived ghost," she added. "If you really want to live a long life, you should behave like a long-lived species. like enjoying life with others for a few years without being called a waste of time."
There was a rhythm.
Then Luthar stood up slowly, the changing blue light of the terminal casting angular shadows across his coat. He walked past her to the small table where a disassembled firearm was in various stages of calibration.
Finally, he said, "For me, my current life is already good: crafting, action, a little bit of adult content, and now perhaps I can add romance." He then gave her a look. "I just hope to accomplish a few things before I start enjoying this life."
Freya watched him, her expression unreadable, but her silence was enough.
"But you are forgetting something," she stated.
Luthar raised his eyebrow. "Am I?"
She moved closer again, not intimately, but close enough that her presence felt deliberate. Grounded.
"You are not alone," Freya said. "When we came into your life, it was not to watch you study and plan for the future while ignoring the present."
He kept her gaze for a moment. She then smiled quietly, almost reluctantly, despite the fact that she could not see through the mask.
"I guess I will have to learn to act like a human."
"Do not worry, you will learn quickly," Freya responded. "I do not mind giving you extra lessons."
The silence had returned, but it no longer felt hollow. It felt more companionable now. Charged with mutual recognition.
Then, as if by fate, they heard a faint sound of laughter from beyond the tent—the distant voices of Bell, Welf, and the others, who were most likely already returning.
Luthar's gaze drifted. "I guess I will take the offer."
She turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. She said, "If you want company later, you can come to my tent."
And then she was gone—as quiet as she had arrived.
Luthar stood alone for a moment longer, then looked down at the partially assembled firearm in his hands.
He gave a sigh.
A second later, the servo-skull beeped, triggering a notification on the terminal. Another set of diagrams is loaded—tighter, denser, and more complex.
He adjusted his gloves and returned to the workbench.
"One thing at a time," he mumbled. But his tone contained the faintest hint of a smile.
Following this, he began preparing hellgun, and after a few hours, the final night arrived. Because they only had two tents, Liliruca had to share one with Freya, though Freya suggested she spend the time with Luthar rather than Lily. Obviously, no one listened to her.
The next morning, the girls prepare to take a bath before Lily can join them. Luthar suggested taking the servo-skull. Everyone refused to take the disgusting thing as soon as they saw the skull, but when he suggested it was time to keep an annoying fly like Hermes at bay.
Understanding her own God's habits, Asfi immediately persuades everyone to take it with them, as the likelihood of Hermes peeping and encouraging other men to do the same is high.
Everyone had gone for a bath, except Freya and Luthar, who refused to take the open bath. Freya decides to go for a walk and asks Luther if he would like to accompany her, which Luther agrees to because he also needs to see the surroundings.