Chapter 240: Blame
Kaiden didnât say anything.
Aria, groggy but lucid, shifted in her bed as she looked at the purple-haired girl. âYou werenât a kill-chaser, Luna. Thatâs not what happened. Stop trying to make it sound like your greed ruined everything.â
Luna looked over sharply. âDonât defend me. I got careless.â
âNo,â Aria replied firmly. âYou went for the vampire. So did I, the other one. I just failed to shoot her down before she landed on you, which in turn forced Nyx to act.â
There was a long pause.
âYou didnât fail anything,â Luna said bitterly. âI was faster. I shouldâve covered myself better. Nyx shouldnât have needed to throw herself between me and a monster just to keep me breathing.â
Aria clenched her fingers weakly. âAnd if I hadnât missed that shot, she wouldnât have had to. Thatâs on me.â
âNo. Youâre both wrong.â Another voice cut in.
It was Bastet.
She had been leaning against the wall for most of the day, arms crossed, tail still, not speaking until now. But when she did, her tone made everyone pause.
Her golden eyes were shadowed with fury that was directed only at herself
âI am a Solar Empress⊠I was blessed to counter the undead. And yet I only killed one, after it tore Ariaâs arm off and maimed her. After I let the others slip past. After one of them nearly killed Nyx.â
Her claws dug into her palm hard enough to draw blood. âI failed. Not just Nyx. All of you.â
âNo-â Aria started, but Bastet shook her head, refusing to be interrupted.
âIâm a higher level than all of you. I have more power. I like to think of myself as some kind of apex predator, but when it came down to it, I was barely able to do anything.
The girls evidently wanted to blame themselves for what happened.
But KaidenâŠ
Kaiden begged to differ.
There was no one else who bore more guilt than he.
He was the leader.
It wasnât just a title or a role; he was the one who pushed for this expedition into the dangerous dungeon. The one who told them they could do it. That the rewards were worth the risks.
And maybe they were in theory.
But this wasnât a game.
This wasnât some neatly packaged simulation where failure meant a simple retry. There were no second chances when a javelin tore through someoneâs lungs. No checkpoint waiting if the healer couldnât piece together mangled nerves fast enough.
Nyx wasnât breathing through some animation cycle.
She was aliveâbarelyâbecause the universe decided to be merciful this time.
And it couldâve easily decided otherwise.
Kaiden stared down at the floor. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles had long gone white.
Heâd thrown his girls into the fire.
For power. For growth. For a damn opportunity.
A high-risk, high-reward dive. One that couldâve paid off spectacularly if executed perfectly. He had weighed the dangers. Rationalized the benefits. Convinced himself they could manage. That he could manage.
His gaze drifted to Nyx again. Pale. Still. Hooked to tubes and spells. Every breath she took sounded like it was bargained from the afterlife itself.
Kaidenâs stomach twisted.
Heâd thought he was ready for this kind of world. For decisions with weight. For leadership with blood behind every step.
But when it came down to it, all it took was one bad decision⊠and the love of his life almost died.
Hell, even the damned systemâhis so-called trump cardâhad spat in his face in his moment of need. His upgrade gamble had backfired spectacularly. RNG hadnât saved him. The universe hadnât bent to his will like it did for chosen protagonists in games or stories.
He wasnât special.
He wasnât lucky.
And the worst part of it all⊠was the realization that this wasnât some twist of fate meant to humble him. This was just reality. Brutal. Unforgiving. Indifferent to whether he learned his lesson or remained ignorant.
Heâd been cocky.
Heâd been blind.
And nowâŠ
Now, Nyx might pay the price for a lesson he was supposed to learn.
Kaiden swallowed hard. He didnât deserve their forgiveness. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
But gods above and demons belowâŠ
âPlease, just let her wake up. Let her live.
Let me carry the weight of my sins.
Not her.â
This was the unexpected moment when the door creaked open.
Muted heels clicked in first. Julia Levander stepped through with her blazer half-unbuttoned and her face pale like a ghostâs. Her wide eyes locked onto Ariaâs frame lying in bed.
Behind her came Damian Levander. He moved slower than his mother, but his steps were heavy.
Last to enter, with timid hands clutching a phone and red-rimmed eyes, was Lux.
None of them said anything for a moment.
They just stared.
The gauze-covered limb where Ariaâs arm had been severed. The long sealed line where it had been reattached. The tubes. The drip. The bandages where fingers had been surgically reconstructed.
Then Julia rushed forward, thanks to her composure breaking entirely.
âAria!â she gasped, falling to her knees beside the bed, cupping her daughterâs face with trembling hands.
âIâm fine, Mom,â Aria whispered, smiling weakly. âI promise. Itâs not as bad as it looks.â
Lux didnât believe her for a second.
She fell onto the other side of the bed and wrapped both arms around her sisterâs good side, silently crying into the sheets.
Aria tried to lift her arm, tried to stroke Luxâs cheek the way she always did, but the limb refused to listen.
âItâs okayâŠâ she whispered instead.
Damian remained silent near the foot of the bed. His hands balled into fists at his sides. After an initial check, his gaze was no longer on Aria.
It was on Kaiden.
And it was a look that made one thing clear. The teenager was blaming him for what happened.
Kaiden met the stare but didnât move to do anything more than that.
He knew he deserved it.
âŠ
Days passed by in this gloomy manner.