Chronicles of Kharon Vol. 4: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG Adventure (The Saga of Kharon) by Ravenscroft Daisuke

Author:Ravenscroft, Daisuke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-06-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

The Warmth of Shared Embers

The night in Aethelgard Reborn had a new sound. It was no longer the tense silence of a vigil or the roar of battle, but a deep and constant murmur. It was the sound of hundreds of lives resuming their course: the distant echo of a dwarven hammer that refused to rest, the clinking of tankards in the makeshift tavern, the crackle of a dozen bonfires that dotted the valley like a new constellation.

In the center of the main square, the largest bonfire sent a column of smoke and sparks toward the dark, ship-less sky. Around it, in an uneven circle of stone benches and logs, the unlikely heart of the new Kharon had gathered.

“I say a well-placed arrow is more elegant,” Lyra declared, taking a swig from her tankard of dwarven ale. The firelight danced in her eyes, kindling a defiant spark. “It’s poetry. A whisper of wood and feather that finds the enemy’s heart before they know they’re dead.”

“Poetry!” snorted Thrain Ironbeard, his braided beard flecked with foam. “Poetry doesn’t split a shield in two. An axe, my young commander, now that is sincerity. It’s a blunt, unambiguous conversation that ends with a very clear conclusion.”

Lyra let out a laugh that echoed across the square.

“Sure, if your idea of a conversation is shouting until the other person splits in half.”

Hikaru watched the scene from a slight distance, sitting beside Elira. He held a cup of hot tea in his hands, more for the warmth than the drink. Seeing Lyra and Thrain bickering like old comrades was one of those small anomalies that reminded him they had won something more than just a battle.

“An arrow chooses its path, an axe creates it,” Elira intervened, her voice soft yet sharp, drawing everyone’s attention. “Both are tools. The wielder’s intent is the true weapon.”

Thrain grumbled but nodded with grudging respect.

“The Shadow always finds a way to be right without having argued. It’s an infuriating talent.”

“And you, Architect,” Lyra said, turning to Hikaru with a smile. “What do you prefer? The silent poetry or the blunt conversation?”

Hikaru blinked, pulled from his comfortable position as an observer. All eyes fell on him. He felt the familiar heat rise up his neck.

“I… uh…” he cleared his throat, searching for words. “I guess I see it differently.”

“We already knew that,” Thrain chuckled.

“To me, they’re like… different programming languages,” he finally said. Lyra and Thrain looked at him with complete incomprehension, but Elira smiled to herself. “A bow is like a precision execution script. You define the target, calculate the trajectory, execute. It’s clean, efficient, low impact on the system. An axe… an axe is brute force. It’s like running a DELETE command with admin privileges. It’s not subtle, but there’s no doubt the job gets done.”

There was a moment of silence as the others processed the strange analogy. It was Lyra who broke it, throwing her head back and laughing boisterously.

“I knew it! Even when you’re talking about killing, you sound like you’re fixing some gadget!”

The tension dissipated.

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