As the captain of Artemis Familia, Letsa's suggestion was beyond reproach—if anything, it was the most rational choice on the table.
Most of the wounded had recovered, yes, but their stockpile of potions had already been drained far more quickly than expected. And they were carrying a growing mountain of loot.
With the Guild extending the deadline and dispatching strong reinforcements, retreating to sell the spoils, replenishing supplies, then regrouping and pushing in together with Astraea Familia was the optimal plan—both in terms of profit and, more importantly, survival.
Artemis, however, spoke calmly—then drove a blade straight into the heart of the issue.
"But have you considered Duncan?"
Letsa's expression tightened.
"That boy is sharp. The moment he sensed this change, his movements became noticeably more urgent. Now he's volunteering as forward scout—again and again. He's afraid we'll decide to pull back and resupply, isn't he?"
Letsa let out a bitter laugh. "That's exactly what's troubling me."
Artemis lowered her voice.
"Duncan is a good child—humble, strong, and dependable. Honestly, without him, we wouldn't have reached this point at all. And his concern for his family is second to none."
She paused, as if seeing Duncan's face in her mind.
"If we retreat, he'll likely ask us to leave him a portion of supplies… so he can continue alone to search for Aelsos."
Letsa didn't argue. She couldn't.
Adventurers were stubborn creatures. When they latched onto something they must do—something they believed they had to accomplish—even gods sometimes failed to sway them.
And Artemis was not Duncan's deity.
"Could we explain the risks to him?" Letsa tried. "Convince him to change his mind—and then we go back in together afterward?"
Artemis didn't answer directly. She simply asked:
"Letsa… do you truly believe you can persuade that child?"
Letsa fell silent.
Everyone in the Lower World had heard the news: Zeus Familia wiped out. Long gone. Buried.
Yet Duncan had said there were survivors—and judging from his expression, those survivors were in dire condition. This journey was for their sake. For their lives.
Even if Letsa wanted to speak the words—wait, withdraw, think of the safer option—she couldn't force them past her throat.
"…Then we tie him up and drag him back—" Letsa started, then cut herself off with a wince. "Forget it. I don't have the strength."
"And you'd earn his hatred," Artemis added, without hesitation.
A heavy silence settled between the two leaders.
Reason demanded a temporary withdrawal.
But Duncan's presence made it impossible for them to abandon him and leave.
Even setting aside the contract, after days of marching and bleeding together, the familia had begun to accept him as one of their own.
In a normal familia, abandoning a companion was taboo—an unforgivable stain.
"…We can only advance," Letsa finally sighed. "If something goes wrong, the responsibility will be mine. I suggested retreating—so if we choose not to, it should be on me."
She clenched her fist, then loosened it.
And yet, she knew the truth.
If she gave the order to withdraw and Duncan chose to push forward alone, her own members would rebel. They wouldn't accept it. Not after everything.
Adventurers could be calculating when it came to money and gear—yet strangely simple when it came to choices like this.
And Letsa herself wasn't cold enough to force the retreat.
"I'll say it," Artemis said quietly.
Letsa blinked. "L—Lady Artemis… are you finally acting like an adult?"
Artemis gave her a look so flat it could freeze water.
"As long as I'm still here, why would I let the children carry the burden?"
She reached out and patted Letsa's head.
The height difference made it awkward—Letsa's face reddened, and she reflexively crouched so Artemis could actually reach.
Artemis smiled faintly, almost wistful.
"How fast time moves. Back then, I had to squat to speak to you. Now, to pat your head, you're the one who has to bend down."
"Lady Artemis… that was more than ten years ago."
"To gods, ten years passes in a blink." Artemis's gaze softened. "You've worked hard. When this commission ends, return to Orario and rest properly."
Letsa's eyes widened in alarm. "Lady Artemis, you can't say that—don't jinx it!"
"Jinx?"
"It's… a saying some gods in Orario use. They claim that when someone starts talking about future wishes or 'after this is over,' they usually don't end well."
Artemis exhaled, weary.
"Then stop listening to those useless ones. They're a disgrace."
A cold rustle swept through the forest.
Artemis turned her head slightly toward the sound—and at nearly the same moment, Duncan emerged into view. The instant he spotted the two of them standing together, he hurried over.
"Lady Artemis. Lady Letsa. I'm back."
Letsa looked like she was about to collapse.
"I told you—don't call me 'Lady.' We're both Level 3. You're stronger than I am. Hearing you say that makes my skin crawl. Call me by name. Please."
Duncan blinked, then looked uncertain—like he'd stepped on a mine without noticing.
Artemis ignored Letsa's inner turmoil and went straight to the point.
"You've done well. What's the situation ahead?"
"For about five kilometers forward, there's no monster presence," Duncan reported. "I also checked both sides. Same result. I can't rule out hidden creatures entirely, but the vast majority have vanished."
He chose his words carefully—consciously adjusting to match the party's phrasing.
"Besides the earlier monster tide, the remaining creatures appear to have fled elsewhere. There are even corpses deeper in the woods—trampled to death, their magic stones still inside. This area feels like… a vacuum."
"Vacuum?" Letsa repeated.
"Ah—meaning 'empty,'" Duncan clarified quickly.
Artemis's expression sharpened.
"The range is too large. No wonder even I can't sense anything."
She glanced at the sky, then made her decision.
"Letsa, inform the party: we advance. We move according to the range Duncan confirmed. Every five kilometers, we halt and adjust."
Then she turned back to Duncan.
"Duncan—after we move up, can you scout again? Not necessarily that far. Use your own judgment and set the distance."
"Yes!" Duncan's face brightened instantly. "I'll go right now!"
"Not so fast," Artemis said, and pressed a hand lightly to his head—half admonishment, half affection.
"Ride on the supply cart and rest until we reach the next point. You're the strongest combat power we have. If you don't recover properly, you'll break."
Her eyes flicked toward Letsa.
"I planned to have you and Letsa rotate, but this child is far too slow. We can't rely on her."
Letsa's face twitched. "L-Lady Artemis…!"
....
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