Chapter 89: Small Evening Gathering. (2)
"S-should I...?" he hesitated an instant before continuing. "Would you like something to drink?"
His tone had changed completely.
No trace of previous arrogance remained. Only tense courtesy, sustained by fear.
Katerina didn’t respond immediately.
Now he had something more urgent in front of him.
Katerina remained at the threshold a few more seconds, evaluating the room, Bernard’s position, every detail that could be relevant. The offer hung in the air. For an instant it seemed she was going to reject it without more, as if that late courtesy had no value whatsoever.
However, her gaze deviated slightly toward the table, then toward the shelves, and finally returned to Bernard.
"The strongest liquor you have," she finally said in a cutting and authoritative manner.
It was more an order than a request.
Bernard nodded immediately, still trembling, wiping cold sweat from his forehead, obeying in a rushed and clumsy manner.
"O-of course," he responded with a trembling voice.
He turned toward one of the side shelves. At first glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary: aligned bottles, cups, some ornaments. However, his hand slid along the wood until finding a specific point. He pressed.
A faint click.
A compartment opened discreetly.
From there, he extracted a bottle different from the rest. The glass, dark, almost opaque, reflected light faintly. The design was sober, but careful, with a long neck and a seal closed with precision.
Bernard held it a moment before turning.
"You have to keep the good stuff where they won’t find it," he commented, sketching a brief smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "My wife has the bad habit of drinking everything she finds without permission, you know? This is the only way I found to save my... little treasure."
The attempt at a joke hung in the air.
Katerina didn’t react.
Not a gesture.
The lack of response made Bernard’s smile blur almost instantly. He cleared his throat, averting his gaze while approaching the table.
"Anyway..." he added, seeking to recover some composure. "This is a Black Ebony you know?"
He placed the bottle carefully, removing the seal.
"One of the best liquors you can find right now. It even surpasses dwarf whisky in intensity."
He poured the liquid into a crystal glass. The golden color captured the light, showing a denser thickness than usual. Then, he filled a second glass and slid it toward her.
Katerina didn’t take it immediately.
Her eyes remained on Bernard, scanning him with attention that didn’t need to move too much to make uncomfortable. Her attitude maintained that constant coldness, that distance marking the terrain between them.
But beneath that surface...
There was tension.
Not directed at him.
Her body betrayed it in minimal details. The way she distributed weight, the slight adjustment in posture while remaining standing, the contained rigidity in her shoulders.
A persistent pain.
The memory of what happened remained fresh. Her superior’s punishment hadn’t been symbolic. It had been direct. Personal. Each uncomfortable step reminded her of the mistake committed.
And her face...
The mask wasn’t an accessory.
It was a necessity.
Beneath it, skin had ceased to exist in various areas. The exposed flesh, damaged to an irreparable point, made any attempt to show herself impossible. The tissue hadn’t healed uniformly. Some parts remained sensitive, others hardened irregularly.
Breathing was already uncomfortable.
Still, she showed none of that.
She took the glass.
With a calculated movement, she slightly lifted the mask. Not enough to expose more than necessary. The gesture was brief, but even so, a pang pierced through her face. She didn’t react.
She drank.
A long gulp.
The liquid descended without pause.
Bernard opened his eyes with surprise.
"That liquor..."
He didn’t finish the sentence immediately.
"Is strong," he added. "It’s advisable to take it with something..."
Katerina left the glass on the table.
"Another," she ordered brusquely, perhaps that liquor would be capable of drowning her pain.
Her tone hadn’t changed.
Bernard hesitated barely a second before serving her again.
The scene settled in tense silence.
Katerina held the second glass without drinking yet.
She had an objective.
She had come for a clear reason.
Correct her mistake.
The mission’s failure had left consequences she couldn’t ignore. She had no men under her command left. Not in conditions to execute an operation like what she needed.
And yet, she had to do it.
Recover the tribe.
Complete what had been left half-done.
But there was a problem.
She couldn’t admit what happened.
Revealing the failure implied weakening her position. Tarnishing her image within the guild. And in that environment, perception was everything.
Bernard shouldn’t know.
Not a word.
That complicated things.
She needed an excuse.
One solid enough to justify requesting resources, without raising unnecessary suspicions.
Katerina brought the glass to her lips and drank another sip, this time shorter.
She thought.
Ordered options.
Discarded the most obvious.
When she spoke, she did so without beating around the bush.
"I need you to withdraw your men from Ebanar’s wall," she then said.
The phrase fell clearly.
Bernard, who had just brought his own glass to his mouth, stopped.
The liquid didn’t go down.
It stayed halfway.
"...What?"
He blinked once, as if needing to process it.
Then coughed slightly, setting the glass aside.
"Sorry..." he said, with a nervous laugh that didn’t quite form. "I think I didn’t hear correctly."
His eyes fixed on her, seeking some sign of error.
"Did you say... withdraw my men?"
The tone had changed.
It was no longer submissive.
There was incredulity.
The soldiers at Ebanar’s wall were those in charge of protecting Cocytus territory from monsters escaping the Kokytus abyss.
Strong, tough soldiers, who most surely had already accepted the idea they were going to die there.
In fact communicating with the wall was a herculean task. The snowy landscape prevented information transport, making communicating something almost impossible.
In fact, generally the only trips made to the wall were to bring food and more troops, because it was too costly to send messages.
That’s why the wall was frozen in time, isolated from the world.
They didn’t know what happened outside, they only fought and died to protect the territory.
A hard life without doubt but without them, Cocytus would be invaded by monster hordes constantly.
Withdrawing troops from Ebanar’s wall was madness. Absolute madness.
