From the perspective of Alessio Leone
The first thing I saw upon arriving in Eldenwall was Matteo's face.
The glow of the portal still pulsed behind me, faint blue sparks fading into the air, when his eyes — always sharp, always assessing — found me among the crowd in the arrival hall.
For a brief moment, he kept a neutral expression.
But only for a moment.
That calm composure shattered as fast as a spark hitting oil.
The corner of his mouth curved into a crooked, conspiratorial grin — the kind that mixed sarcasm, curiosity, and mischief in perfect proportions.
And then came the look.
The look that said everything without a single word.
I should have seen this coming.
Should have remembered that, of all people, Matteo Romano possessed a dangerously vivid imagination — the kind that found secrets and ulterior motives in the simplest gestures.
And now, to my misfortune, I had just handed him infinite ammunition.
I had left alone for what I called a "difficult mission."
And now I was returning accompanied by two beautiful women, two children, and two small beasts — a sight that, to any bystander, looked less like the aftermath of a strategic operation and more like the opening act of a romantic comedy.
Matteo, of course, wasted no time.
His grin widened slightly, as if he were already writing the story of everything that must have happened between the before and the after.
And as much as I feared that this time his imagination might be right — at least in part — I had no idea what to do with this old friend of mine.
Behind me, Freya walked with her usual composure — elegant, controlled, commanding — while her younger sister, Lotte, tried to balance the sleeping twins in her arms, failing to hide the awe she felt toward them.
The children followed close behind, wide-eyed, taking in the restless pulse of the city that moved like a living organism around the portal.
And I, in the middle of all this, could feel the weight of every curious gaze landing on our small procession.
From the outside, it must have been... an interesting sight.
And knowing Matteo, there was no doubt he would be the first to turn it into an elaborate theory.
I sighed.
Not exactly the kind of situation I wanted to have to explain.
But at that moment, I had no choice.
If this was the price to pay for bringing the Goddess of War into my future group, then I would pay it without hesitation.
I just needed to ignore Matteo's smug grin long enough to remember that.
Beyond him, the girls were already gathered near the portals, waiting for us.
I spotted Eleanor, Cassandra, and Hana amid the crowd — their presence standing out even among the adventurers and merchants flowing through the main hall.
Each of them, in her own way, seemed attentive to everything around — maybe searching for us, maybe just soaking in the living pulse of Eldenwall, that city that seemed to breathe magic and gold at once.
Without hesitation, I led Freya, her sister Lotte, the children, and the sleeping beasts toward the group.
The portal's light still flickered behind us, casting bluish reflections on the polished stone floor as the crowd continued its steady motion.
As soon as we approached, Matteo lifted his head — that same provoking smile still plastered across his face.
He didn't waste a second.
"So... how was the great mission?"
he asked, his tone light but dripping with implication, not even bothering to look straight at me.
His eyes slid calmly over the group behind me — Freya, Lotte, and the two children — with the practiced ease of someone already imagining more than he should.
I kept my voice steady, suppressing the sigh that threatened to escape.
"Naturally, a success."
Matteo's grin widened.
I could almost see the jokes forming in his head, whole paragraphs of them.
So, before he could say another word, I decided to cut the conversation short.
"Unfortunately, the only one who got lucky this time was Hana."
The reaction was immediate.
As expected, that single sentence shifted the entire group's attention.
The girls — curious, and far less inclined to gossip than Matteo — turned toward me at the mention of her name.
Hana, who had been distractedly watching the steady stream of players near the portal docks, blinked in confusion and pointed to herself.
"Me?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
I nodded, allowing a small smile.
"Yes."
I reached behind me and unfastened the longbow still strapped across my back.
The metal clasp clicked softly against the Bulwark of Titans, and the bow gleamed under Eldenwall's light — dark wood, reinforced string, silver inscriptions running along its frame like veins of living energy.
"Here. Tell me what you think."
I tossed the bow toward her.
Hana caught it with quick reflexes, her eyes widening as she felt the weight and the faint magical vibration radiating from the weapon.
In another game, I might've held onto that bow a bit longer — maybe waited for a quiet moment to distribute loot properly.
But the Black Tower didn't work like other virtual worlds.
Here, the best way to keep something safe was to equip it immediately.
Items carried power, and power couldn't just sit idle inside a vulnerable inventory.
That's why I gave her the bow without delay — a simple gesture, but a strategic one.
I had already advised Freya to do the same with her children: equip the amulet and the grimoire we had obtained during the mission.
Only then would they truly be protected.
Inside the Tower, the difference between an ordinary player and a survivor began right there — in what you chose to carry, and how quickly you learned to use it.
As Hana examined the bow carefully, a faint smile of satisfaction curved her lips.
And for a brief instant, even Matteo seemed to forget his ready-made jokes, quietly watching the runes shimmer in the light.
It was a small moment of calm — and for just a second,
the entire group remembered what truly mattered.