Would You Like to Leave? Yes!

The two exchanged a look, each waiting for the other to speak first. Finally, Logan drew a deep breath.

“Cap… back on Earth, I served in Afghanistan. Lost every brother I had over there. Some to bullets, some to bombs, some to just… bad luck. I walked out breathing, but I’ve never been the same. Since then I’ve been drifting, and most folks keep their distance. Guess I carry too many ghosts with me.”

He shifted, scratching at his beard as if ashamed to say more. “But you—you treat me like I still matter. Like I’ve got a place in a squad again. That’s why I want to stay with this party. I know I’ve fallen short—I couldn’t even keep the boss’s eyes on me—but I’ll train harder and watch your backs, no matter what.”

Standing tall, a soldier’s aura emanated from him, firm and resolute, with Han naturally falling into the role of captain. Relief washed over Han, and he smiled.

“Of course. You’ve already proven yourself, Logan. Having you at my side gives me more certainty than any plan or weapon. With you watching my back, I can fight without fear.”

Hearing Han reaffirm his trust, Logan’s willpower swelled. He gave a sharp salute—almost by instinct—before easing back into a more relaxed posture.

To the side, Che twiddled her thumbs, nervous and deep in thought, especially after Logan’s deep response. Han didn’t push her, waiting quietly even as worry crept in. At last, she looked up, clutching her arm.

“Brother Han… I don’t think I’m cut out for this. Half the time I’m in the way or only a little help. If something went wrong because of me, I don’t know what I’d do. I just feel like a liability.”

Showing uncharacteristic vulnerability—so different from her usual fiery nature—caught both Han and Logan off guard. Almost with relief, Han stepped forward and rested a firm hand on her shoulder.

“You’re not a liability, Che. From the very start I’ve trusted your skills, and I won’t have you think so little of yourself. Remember all those goblin fights—even the oversized one? We couldn’t have won without your support. And your mana sense has uncovered things the rest of us never would’ve noticed.”

He gave her a steady look. “Do you even realize how rare that is? Most people can’t even use magic properly, much less shape it into something new. Raj comes close, but his methods are vastly different compared to yours. You’re unique.”

His words lifted her mood slightly, but when her eyes drifted to Joseph standing nearby, her smile faltered again. Han noticed immediately.

“If you’re comparing yourself to Joseph—don’t. He’s a freak of nature.”

Che’s gaze dropped, and she pulled back as if to shake off his hand. “But…”

Han tightened his grip, grounding her. “Where’s the fire I’ve seen in you? The spark that always pushes past what I expect? Joseph will only keep growing stronger—but your magic is different. You have a real talent. I believe in that.”

Joseph overheard enough to weigh in but held back. Out of courtesy, and because he couldn’t deny it. He’d seen her conjure spells in a handful of attempts—something he couldn’t do so naturally, instead requiring hours upon hours of systematic, trial and error. The sight had stirred an edge of jealousy in him.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Che. Half the time it’s your magic keeping me in one piece — you’re also the one that promised to figure out a spell that makes me look younger.”

Che smiled, quickly brightening up. Meanwhile off to the side Joseph whispered close to Tokko.

“This is exactly what I hate. Don’t let your insecurities drag you down. Either power through them or talk to me and I’ll sort it. Got it?”

Tokko nodded firmly, eyes wide, committing the words to memory with anxious resolve. The mix of fear and loyalty in her gaze told him she wouldn’t risk disappointing him, but that in itself caused other issues.

Once Han’s party was settled, Han turned to Joseph and Tokko. “We’re done.”

Nodding they came closer to the group ready to discuss the party’s next steps.

Meanwhile, Lianhua was struggling to hold the larger camp together. Ever since they had entered the area, everyone but Joseph and Han had been notified by the system that they could leave at will—simply by stepping into the empty arena.

With many looking to the obvious arena with the large stone rocks surrounding a battle scared ground. Even with the remnants of Josephs concrete, slowly being swallowed by the mud. Deep gashes and impacts in the ground, sharp stone shards littering the area.

The thought of freedom overcame their unease and soon, their restraint.

Despite Lianhua’s warnings, one man slipped past and furiously hobbled forward. Before anyone could stop him, he stepped into the arena. His face flushed red with tears, overwhelming him. Then in an instant his body glowed with a bluish hue before disintegrating into sparks of light.

There was no scream. No agony. Just blue motes drifting upward before vanishing into the unknown, leaving his spot empty.

The crowd froze. And then chaos erupted.

Many associated the blue glow with the system’s familiar theme. To them, it looked like success. Desperate, crying with joy, people broke free of reasonable caution and restraint, rushing forward like a flood.

Han turned at the noise as dozens hurled themselves into the arena, vanishing one after a other, many weeping with joy. Even those who hesitated quickly followed, the fear of being left behind outweighing their caution and loyalty.

Within seconds, almost everyone was gone. Only a handful of steadier survivors remained—the loyal, the cautious—and Lianhua’s small group of women.

Han approached her as she stood there, bitter and exhausted. She tried to explain, but he cut her off with a weary, understanding smile.

“It’s fine. This isn’t your fault. They were desperate. I understand that emotion all too well.”

Seeing her guilt linger, he straightened his shoulders and smiled with renewed confidence.

“Don’t let it weigh on you. We’re going through soon anyway. It doesn’t change much. And as you’ve seen, supplies don’t carry over. Weapons, clothes, personal items only—the rest stays behind.”

Sure enough, abandoned rations and medicinal pastes littered the arena floor where people had vanished.

Lianhua took a deep breath, exhaling her frustration, then firmed her resolve. “I understand. I’ll do better, so that next time others can rely on me instead of giving in to fear. Whether it was inevitable or preventable, it still shows my lack of skill. If my sister were here… she would not have failed as I did.”

Han smiled at her conviction. “Your sister was strong—strong enough that maybe this could have been avoided. But don’t forget, you’re strong too. I’ve seen it.”

Lianhua smiled bittersweet but kept composed and turned to Han. “I’ll do what I can to make her proud, that’s all I can do” Smiling back, Han posed a question, since their time together was seemingly ending soon. “Do you plan to part ways on the other side? We don’t know what’s waiting for us or where we’ll end up. But the choice is yours.”

Lianhua looked at the few survivors who still clung to her, then clenched her fist and shook her head. “No. I’m no combatant, no healer, no mage. My only skill is managing people, and even then, I’ve failed. Joining your party won’t help me grow.

I leaned too much on your strength, your natural leadership. I lost sight of my own goals. If my sister were here, she’d slap some sense into me then push me forward towards my goal.”

Han scratched his head, disappointed but understanding. “I see. I won’t lie—I’m a little disappointed. Your skills are real and would have been useful in the future. But I respect your choice. Your sister would be proud.”

Her gaze steadied, passion burning behind her words. “I hope you won’t forget me, leader. When we meet again, I’ll show you how much I’ve improved. Enough to stand tall and proud of what I’ve accomplished. Hopefully, enough to move on with no regrets.”

Somber yet determined, she led her remaining group toward the gateway. One last look at Han’s party—and then she vanished in a wash of blue light.

Han’s gaze lingered, regret flickering across his face. Then he turned to his party, gaze resting briefly on Joseph before sighing.

“Ready?”

They nodded. Tokko edged closer to Joseph, anxiety plain on her face. She jolted when he took her wrist but didn’t pull away, holding still as he kept a firm grip—his own skepticism of random teleportation devices making him keep her tethered as a precaution.

Together, they stepped into the ring, soon vanishing into particles of light.