Chapter 43

As I stepped out of the barrier, my arm was suddenly seized. The grip was firm, almost unyielding. It was her again—the arrogant girl, Christine. Her sharp gaze bore into me, brimming with frustration and defiance.

For a moment, my expression wavered, but before I could respond, the voice of authority cut through the tension.

"Let him leave."

The calm yet commanding voice belonged to Bright, the caster of the wind barrier. His tone left no room for argument.

"But, Sir Bright—" Christine began, her voice tinged with desperation.

"I said, let him leave," Bright repeated, his voice growing colder, with a sharp edge of warning.

Reluctantly, Christine released her hold on me. Her reluctance was clear, but she didn't dare defy Bright's command.

Finally free, I stepped out of the barrier, and the weight of their gazes disappeared. But outside, I found myself in another storm.

The moment I emerged, the leaders of other guilds, who had been watching from a distance, realized that I hadn't aligned myself with the Titans. It was as if a dam had broken—suddenly, I was surrounded by eager faces, their voices overlapping as they bombarded me with invitations and promises.

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Meanwhile, inside the wind barrier...

"Now that he's gone, let's move on to the next topic," Bright said, his tone returning to its usual calm.

Christine, however, couldn't let it go. "Are we just going to let him leave like that?" she asked, her voice filled with frustration and concern.

Bright turned his gaze to her, his calm demeanor unwavering. "Are you seriously considering raising a hand against the apostle of a god who managed to kill the Demon Lord?"

The room fell silent. Even the thought of confronting such an entity sent shivers down Christine's spine. She lowered her gaze, her defiance fading into reluctant acceptance.

Satisfied, Bright nodded and continued. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes—Alfred Xavier, the hero who saved Earth."

Alfred, who had been sitting quietly, shifted uncomfortably as all eyes turned to him. He chuckled nervously, brushing off the sudden attention. "Yes," he said simply, trying to maintain his composure.

Bright's expression softened, but his words carried weight. "You've regained your powers somehow. Impressive. But..."

The atmosphere shifted, growing heavier as Bright's expression hardened. The pressure in the room was almost suffocating.

"You know what you have to do now, don't you?" Bright's voice was low, almost a growl.

Alfred hesitated, his composure faltering. "Y-Yes..." he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Bright's lips curled into a mischievous smile, though his eyes remained cold. "Let me remind you of the rule for us lesser gods. You never—and I mean never—become deeply entangled with mortal relationships. Do you understand?"

Alfred lowered his head, his voice steady but tinged with defeat. "Yes, sir."

Bright's tone softened slightly, though the authority in his voice remained. "Since your powers returning was unexpected, I will grant you an extension. Five more years to spend with your family. After that, you must… take care of them. You know what I mean."

Alfred's face was shadowed with grief, but he nodded. "Yes, sir."

Just as Bright was about to move on, Alfred spoke again, his voice stronger this time. "But if possible… I would like to keep my daughter alive."

The room fell silent again, and a man in the corner, Harley, let out a mocking laugh. "Affectionate, are we? Really, Alfred?"

Alfred turned to him, his eyes filled with resolve. "It's not just affection, Harley. I have a proper reason."

Bright's interest was piqued. "Explain yourself, Alfred," he said, his tone curious.

"My daughter claims to have cured me and returned my powers. You know how important that is." Alfred's voice carried pride, his eyes shining with conviction.

Christine scoffed, crossing her arms. "A toddler, killing that ungodly beast? At least make your lies believable."

Alfred remained steadfast. "I'm telling the truth—or at least repeating what she told me."

Bright regarded him thoughtfully, his piercing gaze searching for any hint of deceit. Finally, he spoke. "Interesting... Fine. In the next five years, if you can provide solid proof of her abilities, we will allow her to live."

Alfred exhaled, a wave of relief washing over him. The weight of the room lifted slightly, and though his burden was far from gone, he clung to the hope that his daughter might have a future.

"Thank you," Alfred said softly, his voice sincere.

Bright turned away, his voice dismissive. "Make sure you use those years wisely. Now, let's move on to the next order of business."

As the meeting continued, Alfred sat silently, clutching the small thread of hope Bright had offered him. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself to believe that his daughter might survive the cruel fate that loomed over them.