GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation

Vol 2 - Chapter 25: Flush

"Vel, I got our payment for the—"

Celia's words died on her lips as she recognized the large monk. The transformation in Honka's expression was immediate and jarring. His smile vanished, replaced by something raw and pained. The sight of Celia—with her striking resemblance to Clara—clearly triggered something in him.

Guilt contorted Honka's features. Vel understood immediately. If not for Honka's recklessness during that fateful mission, Clara might not have lost an arm. She would have been at full strength when facing those Alpha Wulfangs. The weight of that knowledge seemed to press down on Honka's broad shoulders, momentarily stealing away his characteristic confidence.

Vel looked at Celia, her expression unreadable as she stared at Honka. The guild hall's noise seemed to fade around them, creating a bubble of tense silence.

Celia's knuckles whitened around the coin pouch, a flash of recognition hardening her gaze.

Would she still blame Honka for what happened? Or had she moved on from it? Vel held his breath, ready to intervene if needed.

"You must be..." Celia said slowly, her voice carefully controlled.

Honka swallowed hard, his usual bravado evaporated. "Honka," he confirmed quietly. "I was in... under your sister's command back in Oakhaven."

"You must be Celia," Honka continued. "I've heard of you from within Elnor guild."

Celia took a long pause, her eyes scanning Honka's face as Vel recognized a complex storm of emotions washing over her—grief, curiosity, and deeper anger. But as she studied the guilt-ridden man before her, the hardness gradually softened. This was not the reckless adventurer from the reports.

Finally, Celia straightened her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said, her voice measured and calm, "for helping Vel and his village."

Vel blinked in surprise. Of all the things he expected Celia to say, simple gratitude wasn't one of them. She deliberately avoided mentioning Clara's sacrifice or Honka's role in what happened that day, leaving a conspicuous gap in the conversation.

Honka's broad shoulders sagged with visible relief, though his eyes remained heavy with regret.

"It was my duty," he said quietly, all his earlier bravado gone. "Though I wish things could have been different... better."

"You did what you could. If anyone were to blame, it should be those monsters."

A sharp pain lanced through Vel's chest at her words. The blame she deflected from Honka landed squarely on him—a heavy, secret weight of a creator responsible for his own tragic creations.

The abrupt silence seemed to draw Mori's attention. Vel noticed Mori glancing up with genuine interest—his vulnerability had accomplished what his boasting couldn't.

Celia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her posture relaxing slightly.

"What happened in the past belongs to the past," she said softly. "We all did what we could with what we had."

Honka's expression lightened at her words, the burden of guilt visibly lifting from his broad shoulders. He straightened up, some of his natural confidence returning, though tempered now with newfound humility.

"Whenever I'm not on duty," Honka said, his voice regaining some of its former strength, "I'm still looking for her, gathering information that might help. Similar cases, strange portals, unexplained disappearances. Nothing useful right now, but as soon as it does..."