Chapter 810: Kroos: So... Who Exactly is Ren?
"Ren-kun, is it really okay for you to spoil them so much?"
Ren strolled into the sunlit kitchen. Touka stood by the marble counter, a paring knife in hand as she carefully sliced a plate of fresh fruit. She hadn't brought the snacks over to the living room yet.
Clearly, she knew better than to interrupt.
After the initial wave of shock had passed, the girls in the other room had become entirely engrossed in studying the 'dark scripture'. It wasn't just a prop—it was genuine magic. For a group of hardcore chuunibyou, was there anything in the universe more intoxicating than that? Walking in on them now would only shatter their immersive enjoyment.
Still, Touka couldn't completely hide her apprehension. She glanced toward the hallway, her brow furrowing. "That book... it would be incredibly dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands, wouldn't it?"
"Don't worry," Ren said, his voice a soothing rumble. "That grimoire is only useful to those specific few. Besides, all the genuinely dangerous spells have already been strictly sealed."
Having eased her worries, Ren closed the distance between them. Without a second thought, his arm snaked around Touka's slender waist, pulling her back until she was pressed flush against him and the edge of the counter.
"Ugh, you're really something else," Touka sighed, rolling her eyes even as a faint flush dusted her cheeks. "You have the endless, exhausting energy of a bull every single day."
"Heh heh, I can't help it," Ren chuckled, his breath tickling her ear. "I can't just stand by idly all day when I'm surrounded by such beautiful women, can I? That would be a tragic waste."
His hand trailed lower, tracing the curve of her hip. "Besides... we haven't tried it in the kitchen yet, so..."
"Ugh, you're really doing this here?!"
Meanwhile, across the multiverse, within the steel corridors of Rhodes Island.
"Waaah! Big Sister Theresa... you... you're really Big Sister Theresa!!!"
All the composure Amiya usually maintained as the leader of Rhodes Island completely shattered. The moment she confirmed the existence of the woman standing before her, her emotions broke the dam. She threw herself forward, burying her face into Theresa's dress and sobbing uncontrollably.
Standing around them, the former core members of Babel stared at the goddess-like Sarkaz woman with absolute, paralyzing disbelief.
Kal'tsit, the Doctor, Kroos, Scout, Askalon, Ace, Logos, and Mantra—every single one of them was present, frozen like statues.
Kroos blinked blankly. Slowly, she reached down and pinched her own arm.
"Hiss!!!"
The sharp sting made her gasp. "It's not a dream... is it really not someone impersonating her using Originium Arts or memories?"
Even with the pain grounding her in reality, she still couldn't process it. And she wasn't the only one. No one dared to fully believe their eyes. The memory of Theresa's tragic death was a scar burned too deeply into all of their souls.
"Everyone..." Theresa murmured softly. She gently stroked Amiya's trembling ears, her own heart heavy with a complicated mix of joy and sorrow.
Ever since her departure, she knew her loyal companions from Babel had been dragged through hell, struggling desperately just to survive. A deep, lingering guilt gnawed at her.
Suddenly, the silence shattered.
"Kal'tsit! Doctor! What exactly is the meaning of this?!" Askalon snarled. Moving faster than the eye could track, the Sarkaz assassin lunged forward, her gloved hand clamping violently around the Doctor's collar. "Didn't you orchestrate Theresa's death back then?! Explain yourself right now!"
The Doctor shrank back, her eyes wide with genuine alarm beneath her visor. She had no answers to give. Her past was a complete, impenetrable blank—a void devoid of any such memories.
"Enough!"
Kal'tsit's sharp, authoritative voice cut through the tension, halting Askalon's aggressive outburst. The Feline medic stepped forward, her usually impassive gaze trembling with complex emotion as she looked upon the living, breathing Theresa.
"Release her, Askalon. She is the real Theresa. She has... returned from the dead."
Returned from the dead?
The sheer impossibility of the statement sent a shockwave through the gathered Elites.
Askalon slowly released her grip, her mind racing. An image of a certain man flashed through her thoughts. 'That man... could he actually possess the power to do something as miraculous as this?'
Theresa offered the room a gentle, radiant smile that seemed to chase away the shadows. "Everyone, it truly has been a long time."
Kal'tsit exhaled a long, shaky breath, forcing her professional mask back into place. "Theresa has returned to us. Let us leave the ghosts of the past where they belong for now." She swept her gaze across the room. "Right now, we need to discuss Theresa's immediate future."
Ace crossed his massive arms, his deep voice rumbling with pragmatic caution. "Although I don't know the hidden circumstances behind Lady Theresa's resurrection, it's obvious her presence cannot be made known to the outside world. The political fallout would be catastrophic."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the operators.
Kal'tsit nodded, her mind already calculating the logistics. "Theresa, for the foreseeable future, you will need to remain disguised while aboard Rhodes Island. Your identity is simply too sensitive to risk exposure."
"I don't mind at all," Theresa replied warmly, her eyes crinkling with happiness. "As long as I can be here without causing trouble for everyone, I am content."
She was simply overjoyed to be reunited with her family.
Shortly after the emotional reunion, Theresa gently requested that most of the operators leave the room, citing some 'special reasons'.
Within minutes, the crowded room emptied, leaving only Askalon, Kroos, Kal'tsit, and a still-sniffling Amiya behind.
"Kal'tsit, what are you doing being so secretive?" Kroos asked, scratching her head in utter bewilderment. "Everyone has so much they want to say to Lady Theresa. Why send them away?"
Kal'tsit remained silent for a moment. She had a hidden difficulty—a deeply uncomfortable hurdle she needed to cross. Or rather, the topic she was about to breach was not exactly preserving of Theresa's royal dignity.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Kal'tsit fixed Theresa with a stern, piercing stare. "Theresa. Can you please explain to me exactly what happened before we found you?"
Askalon frowned, crossing her arms. "What do you mean, 'what happened before'?"
Kal'tsit maintained her calm, clinical tone, though the words themselves were explosive. "When we arrived at the scene, Skadi, Specter, Gladiia, and W were all completely unconscious and drenched in well water. Meanwhile, Theresa was... biting Ren."
"Huh???"
Both Kroos and Askalon's jaws dropped. The sheer absurdity and scandalous nature of the description hit them like a physical blow.
Askalon, at least, knew exactly who Ren was. Her mind immediately jumped to dangerous, illicit conclusions.
Kroos, on the other hand, was completely out of the loop, her brain short-circuiting at the influx of bizarre information.
Still clinging to Theresa's waist, little Amiya's long rabbit ears suddenly twitched. The memory of the exact scene she had walked in on flashed vividly in her mind.
"Uuu...!" Amiya squeaked, her entire face erupting into a furious, steaming red. She buried her face even deeper into Theresa's stomach, too embarrassed to look at anyone.
Theresa wasn't faring much better. A brilliant blush painted her pale cheeks, and she shot Kal'tsit a highly uncharacteristic, shy glare.
Even Kal'tsit wasn't as composed as her icy exterior suggested. If one looked closely, the tips of her Feline ears, partially hidden beneath her ash-blonde hair, were burning a bright crimson.
Yet, out of sheer stubbornness, Kal'tsit feigned absolute clinical detachment, insisting on interrogating the only conscious participant of that chaotic event.
"Theresa," Kal'tsit pressed, her voice tight. "Can you please explain the situation to us?"
"Uuu... asking this kind of question so directly..." Theresa murmured, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Despite her intense shyness, she knew she owed them an explanation.
"Actually, after I woke up..."
Slowly, she recounted everything she had seen, heard, and experienced since regaining consciousness.
As the story unfolded, Askalon's eyes widened in genuine shock. "She actually used herself to save you?"
The assassin had always looked down on W, viewing the Sarkaz mercenary as a chaotic, untrustworthy nuisance. But to hear that W had sacrificed herself to pull Theresa back from the brink? Askalon realized she would have to reevaluate the explosive-obsessed mercenary entirely.
Kal'tsit, however, pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache building behind her eyes. "So, after you woke up and realized what she had done, you planned to take W's place and pay the 'price' yourself. And Skadi and the other Abyssal Hunters were doing the same for Specter."
A massive, exhausting sense of déjà vu washed over the Feline medic.
'Why does it feel like every single woman in my vicinity is lining up to sell themselves to Ren?'Then again, a small, treacherous voice in the back of her mind reminded her:'Weren't you technically the first one to sell yourself to him?'
The only difference was that the others were apparently throwing themselves at him with far more speed and enthusiasm, falling one after another like dominoes.
"Uuu, well, Ren originally..." Theresa stammered, trying to justify the highly compromising situation.
Little Amiya was simply too young and innocent for this conversation. Listening to the adults discuss 'paying prices'and'biting' left the poor Cautia completely dizzy and confused.
But there was one person in the room who was suffering more than anyone else.
Kroos was practically scratching her ears and cheeks in frantic frustration. She looked between the blushing former King of Sarkaz, the stoic but red-eared Kal'tsit, and the deeply contemplative Askalon.
Unable to take the suspense anymore, Kroos finally threw her hands up and wailed.
"So... who exactly is Ren?!"
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