The golden light washed over Dante, a liquid-gold wave that felt like sinking into a hot bath.
The [Level 3] pop-up was a triumphal orchestral flourish in his mind.
The searing fire in his ribs, the memory of his bones cracking, simply vanished.
His [HP] bar flashed from a critical red to a full, vibrant green.
His [Mana] bar was the same, expanding and filling to its new [30/30] cap.
He was healed. He was full.
Then the light faded.
And the smell hit him.
The reek of copper, bile, and voided bowels.
The happiness of the level-up vanished, replaced by a cold reality.
"ENCORE! ENCORE!"
Rin-Rin, perched triumphantly on the corpse of the Hobgoblin, struck a final pose, her star-tipped microphone pointed at the sky.
She was using the seven-foot-tall armored monster as her stage.
"Thank you, thank you, Oakhaven! Rin-Rin loves you! How was that for a comeback, Producer-sama? Five stars! A platinum performance!"
She was, as always, completely oblivious.
Dante's gaze went from his flawless "DPS" to his... "Rogue."
Shivvy hadn't moved.
She was still on the ground, twenty feet away. The monster's black blood was all over her, steaming in the cool air.
She was scrubbing at her hands. Frantically. Her little bare hands, raw and red, scraping against the mud and grass, trying to get the feel of the dagger and blood, off her.
She wasn't crying anymore.
She was making a small and repetitive hiccuping sound, her whole body shaking in the aftershock of what she'd done.
She'd saved him. She'd won the fight. But it had broken her.
"Shivvy?" Dante said, his voice quiet.
He took a step toward her.
She fltched, scrambling back, her eyes wide and white with terror.
'Oh boy, she wasn't just scared. She was shattered.'
"Producer-sama!" Rin-Rin complained, leaping off the stage.
"Why are you looking at her? She missed the whole show! I was the one who did the real damage! Where's my praise?"
Dante snapped.
"Praise?" he yelled, his voice cracking.
"She's sick, you idiot! She's traumatized!"
"Trau-ma-tized?" Rin-Rin tested the word. Like she didn't know it.
"But... she won, right? She did that 'stabby-stabby' thing! It was a great move! A little dark for my branding, but the fans ate it up! She should be happy!"
"She's not like you!" Dante shot back, gesturing at Shivvy, who was now just staring at her bloody hands, her breath catching in her throat.
This was his Creator's Problem.
He had a party. And he is the one who responsible for them.
He had a hyper-violent and emotionally-stunted pop-star for his "DPS."
And he had a "Rogue" who was, apparently, a pure pacifist, forced into a kill-or-be-killed moment, and who had just suffered a complete psychotic break as a result.
'Aaaaah I couldn't manage this. I couldn't fix Shivvy's trauma with a pep talk.'
He needed... he needed a healer.
Not just a "health-bar" healer. He needed a real one. A "mind" healer. A support.
He needed...
He stopped. His eyes snapped shut.
[3 Slots].
[30 Max Mana].
'I had an empty slot!'
He could fix this.
His mind flew to The List. He scrolled, his will frantic.
Sort by: [Combat]. [Class: Healer].
The list populated. [Amber, Priestess of Light (Lv 80)]. [Cost: 4000 Mana]. [Kyra, Apothecary (Lv 25)]. [Cost: 50 Mana].
He couldn't afford any of them.
"Dammit!" he whispered, his hands clenching. "30 Mana? That's nothing! I get a new slot and I can't even fill it with a real fighter? I can't even get a low-level Priest? What's the point?"
He was still thinking like a gamer.
DPS, Tank, Healer.
He stopped. He took a deep breath.
He wasn't a gamer anymore. This is reality…
He didn't need a combat healer. He needed...
He looked at Shivvy, who was now just rocking back and forth, whispering,
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
He looked at Rin-Rin, who was tapping her foot, annoyed at being ignored.
He didn't need a "Priest."
He needed a Mom.
He went back to The List. His mind shifted.
Clear search.
Sort by: [Utility]. [Sub-Class: Non-Combat].
The list was long. It was full of... junk. Bank alts, gag characters, crafting mules.
[Sir Cluckington (Lv 12 Chicken)]. [Gaffer (Lv 5 Blacksmith)]. [Old Man Hemmet (Lv 1 Fisherman)].
And then... he saw her.
His breath caught.
The portrait was simple.
A gentle smiling woman with warm brown eyes, and her hair in a simple practical bun. She was wearing overalls.
And she has a big… um… yeah you know it, bro.
[Hana (Level 45 Farmer)]
[Game Origin: Serene Valley Saga]
[Skills: [Farming (Master)], [Cooking (Master)], [Taming (Adept)], [Crafting (Adept)], [First Aid (Basic)]]
[Personality: Kind, Nurturing, Hardworking, Patient]
He remembered her. Serene Valley Saga. It was the farming sim he'd sunk 300 hours into when he was recovering from the flu.
It was his "comfort game."
Hana was his "wife" in the game. He'd married her because she was the kindest of all the bachelorettes.
'Yeah, she was perfect.'
He checked the cost.
[Summon Cost: 12 Mana]
[Upkeep Cost: 2 Mana/Hour]
He did the math. His new [Regen] was 10/hr.
Rin-Rin Upkeep: 3/hr.
Shivvy Upkeep: 1/hr.
Hana Upkeep: 2/hr.
Total Upkeep: 6/hr.
Net Mana Gain: +4/hr.
He could do it. He could run a full three-person party and still be net-positive.
'I am genius, bro!'
"Rin-Rin," he said, his voice firm.
"You're... you're too powerful for this. Your show is over. I'm dismissing you for a bit. We'll... we'll do the 'autographs' later."
"Hmph! Finally!" she said, pouting.
"It's about time! My throat is so dry. You better have my rider ready when you call me back!"
"I'll... work on it."
He willed the Dismiss command. Rin-Rin vanished in a huff of pink glitter.
[Mana: 30/30].
The battlefield was suddenly quiet, save for Shivvy's small hiccuping sobs.
Dante looked at her.
"It's okay, Shivvy. I'm... I'm calling in help."
He focused, his will softening.
Summon: Hana.
[Mana: 30/30] -> [18/30].
The summoning was... different.
It wasn't a glitchy like Shivvy nor a pop-star explosion like Rin-Rin.
It was... warm.
A soft golden-yellow light, like a sunrise, pooled on the ground. It hummed. The air filled with the scent of fresh-baked bread, summer hay, and clean laundry.
The light congealed, and a woman stood there.
She was in her late twenties, with a kind gentle face and laugh-lines around her eyes.
She wore a simple blue apron over a homespun tunic and practical farm trousers.
She blinked, her warm brown eyes taking in the scene.
The blood. The mud. The corpses.
Then she looked at Dante. A look of soft instant recognition.
"My husband," she said, her voice like a warm blanket. She gave a small respectful curtsey.
Then her gaze fell on the mess.
"Oh... oh my," she said, her 'farmer' instincts taking over.
"What a... what a terrible mess. This ground is just ruined."
Her gaze then moved from the "ruined" earth to the "ruined" child.
She saw Shivvy.
Her face, which had been one of mild concern, crumbled into pure maternal compassion.
"Oh, you... you poor, poor child," she whispered.
She didn't hesitate. She didn't ask questions.
She crossed the clearing in three quick steps and knelt in the mud, right in front of the trembling girl.
Shivvy flinched, her head snapping up, expecting a new threat.
But Hana just smiled. It was the kindest and warmest smile Shivvy had ever seen.
"You're all... you're all covered in... filth," Hana said, her voice soft.
"That just won't do."
Hana reached into a small pouch on her apron.
Her [Crafting (Adept)] skill activated.
Then, she pulled out a small wad of [Clean Linen] and a vial of [Purified Water].
In her hands, they just became a warm, damp, and clean-smelling cloth.
She gently, so gently, began to wipe the black sticky Hobgoblin blood from Shivvy's face.
"There now," she murmured. "Let's get you cleaned up. You're shaking. You must be half-frozen, poor thing. And you've lost your... oh, your dagger's all the way over there..."
Shivvy, who had been a taut, vibrating wire of trauma, just broke.
The dam of her terror, her guilt, her confusion, just shattered under the weight of that simple unconditional kindness.
She let out a shuddering wail and lunged, burying her face in Hana's apron (and uhm), her small hands gripping the clean fabric, and she sobbed.
Hana, unfazed, just wrapped her arms around the girl, rocking her.
"Shh, shh, it's alright, dear. It's alright. You're safe. What a brave thing you do. Just... let it all out."
Dante just stood there, his throat thick.
'I definitely am a genius.'
He let them have a minute. Then, he cleared his throat.
"Hana," he said, his voice rough.
Hana looked up, one hand still stroking Shivvy's matted hair.
"My husband. I... I apologize. The... the child..."
"No, you're... you're doing exactly what I summoned you for."
He felt a flush of awkwardness.
"I... I need to bring the other one back. Just... be ready."
"Of course, My husband."
Dante took a deep breath. His third final slot.
Summon: Rin-Rin.
[Mana: 18/30] -> [8/30].
The pink glitter poofed, the synth-riff sounded.
Rin-Rin appeared, her hands on her hips, ready to complain.
"Okay, Producer-sama! I hope you found my—"
She stopped.
She saw the new woman.
She saw the gentle, farming-sim "Mom."
Then she saw Shivvy clinging to this new woman, her face buried in her apron.
Rin-Rin's entire "diva" persona deflated.
She was, for the first time, completely baffled.
"...Ehhhh? Producer-sama, who's the new act? And why is my kouhai crying on her?"
Before Dante could speak, Hana looked up.
She gave Rin-Rin that same warm unflappable smile.
"Oh, hello, dear," Hana said, her voice kind.
"You must be the singer. You have a very... powerful... voice. You must be exhausted after all that. You should rest it."
She had a waterskin in her hand. And held it out to Rin-Rin.
Rin-Rin just... stared at her.
She was being handled. Like a child. By a mom.
"I... uh..." Rin-Rin, for the first time in her existence, was speechless. She just took the waterskin.
"Oh. Uh... thank... you?"
Dante let out a long, slow breath.
He had done it.
He had a team.
He had a DPS. He had a Rogue. And he had a Support.
It was chaotic. It was still dysfunctional, tho. But it was balanced.
"Okay," Dante said, his voice clear and in-control. "Everyone's here. The show's over."
He looked at the ruins. The corpses. And the loot.
"Shivvy," he said, his voice gentle.
Shivvy peeked out from Hana's apron, her eyes red and puffy.
"I need your [Inventory] skill. We're not 'fighting' anymore. We're cleaning up. Can you do that? You just need to loot. Hana and I will carry things to you."
Shivvy looked at Hana. Hana gave her a little, encouraging nod.
"Go on, dear. It's just tidying."
Shivvy sniffled.
And... she nodded.
She wiped her nose, slid off Hana's lap, and walked on shaky legs to the nearest dead Goblin.
And then she just... held out her hand.
The [Copper Bits] and [Torn Leather Strap] vanished.
"Good," Dante said.
He looked at his new three-person party.
"Let's loot this tower. And try not," he said, looking at Hana, "to make too much of a mess."
"Oh, don't you worry, My husband," Hana said, standing up and dusting off her apron, her eyes already on the Hobgoblin's corpse.
"We'll be very efficient. My... this armor is ruined. But the leather underneath... now that's good quality. We can definitely [Harvest] that."
Dante just smiled. He was, finally, ready to go home.