Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn! 27 Resolution

Yes.

Yes, he did.

He wondered why he didn't just man up and lay waste to the entire Arena and all its inhabitants - the Duke included.

He wondered whether he should have just cast aside the sense of responsibility to his Home, to Earth and the urgency of warning his people. Whether he should have just forgotten about the entire past life and past world like a dream dissipating in the morning when the sleeper awoke.

Maybe... He could have just left it all behind... And lived a carefree life with Moira...

Maybe...

But he didn't.

And he didn't know whether to hate himself or to pat himself on the back for his "self-less" sacrifice.

Did he blame her...?

Never...!

She didn't even know about his strength, his powers. If only he had said something, she would have...

Laughed it off as the bravado of a hot-headed teenager?

And if he had demonstrated his powers in a magnificent display of wonder...? And wiped out every witness, kidnapping the girl to be his and his alone...?

...And deprive her of the promise and opportunity and status that belonged to her from birth...?

Could he do that...? To rob her of a shining and dazzling future as a Princess and Priestess, whatever the Priestess role was about...?

'No... I couldn't do it... To rob her of her happiness for my own...'

'...And go to war with a nation that just wishes to retrieve their Princess. And derail all hopes of saving my homeland... And lose my chance of vengeance against the dark hand behind the curtains...?'

He shook his head slightly, his heart as cold and hard as the stone floor he stood on.

No, he would not lose sight of his mission that could mean life or death for billions!

He sighed and considered one last perspective, fists tightly clenched subconsciously, evidence of the stress and anxiety he was under but did not realise he was experiencing.

'What if that person, whoever it was who called himself a Duke - her so-called uncle - were lying...?'

He sniggered to himself.

Was there any need for their "gods" of the Arena to lie to the girl...? The little kings and rulers of this place, "gods" who believed themselves the possessors of every trainee's life, body, soul and even descendants!

'Heh... They wouldn't need to go that far. They just needed to snatch whatever they wanted, whether it was a trainee's mind or body or even their life...'

He sighed as he walked listlessly down the passageway. 6:49 AM. 11 minutes until the morning assembly.

He headed back to his room to sort through his things.

And sort through his thoughts, plans and the path he should take after this.

And after the assembly, it would be time to leave and find a way home.

He paused in his steps.

Lars wondered if he could manage somehow to sort through the most important thing in this equation.

His feelings.

Which was his home...?

Earth...? London...? Malaysia...?

Or here...? Where Moira was.

He shook his head and got ready to pack and leave.

'...Maybe I should drop by the assembly. One last time...' His melancholic, pensive mood guided his footsteps to bid a silent goodbye to this place and the people here.

He shrugged at his own decision. It was not like this would be the last time seeing the Arena.

He would soon return anyway, to break these innocent teenagers free from their death sentence.

* * * * *

Rosa was abandoned.

That's how she felt.

The tall, brown-haired and tomboyish girl scoffed at herself, at her own foolishness at choosing to believe the red-head beauty. Who owned -- No! Who *had* owned her heart and body.

Even now, Rosa felt tingles run through her, just as when her whole body quivered and shook in ecstasy at Seline's intoxicating touch when the voluptuous beauty deigned to let Rosa kiss her sensual fingers...

She shivered, and firmed her will to forget the traitorous b*tch - who had used her and then refused to even see or meet her since the fracas with Moira and Linges!

Yes, she knew she had failed! But...

But was a "useful pawn" all that she was to her sweetly sadistic queen...???

She couldn't help but clutch her heart. It hurt. Hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt.

And her other hand snaked down lower, about to hold herself somewhere else that ached and longed for the red-haired goddess that she worshipped but could never, ever possess.

Chest throbbing, her head pounded as she stood up, wobbly.

Hands trembling, she faced her bed and picked up a dagger, angling it at her heart.

Eyes widening in madness, she smiled maniacally, a morbid look painted across her visage.

Perhaps it would stop hurting if she removed the source of her pain.

She was discarded, abandoned, unwanted anyway.

Time to end it all.

As she braced herself for the pain that would end her pain, she heard footsteps and hastened to finish it.

But she could not.

"Rosa."

Her queen.

Her deity.

Her idol and everything.

Goddess Seline... Had not forgotten her??!

She turned around and saw the apple of her eyes before her, perfect in every way with every curl and bang of her lustrous hair falling impeccably beautifully.

Her hand holding the dagger grew limp, and it fell to the floor with a *Clang!* sound as Seline crossed the distance from the entrance of Rosa's room to stand before her - and held her chin with her long fingers.

"I--I... I..." Rosa stuttered, unable to get the words out her mouth as she felt fiery heat burst forth from deep within her, deep and deep and deep within her - in contrast to the cool touch of her mistress and lord.

"Shh. I need you."

"You... You need me...??" She nearly collapsed on the spot from euphoria and pleasure. In less than a breath's time, her eyes filled with tears as she was moved beyond words. She leaned forward and caught a whiff of the scent of her idol, and sighed deeply, smiling.

Seline nodded. "Follow me."

"Yes..." The words came automatically as if she were a child obeying her mother unconditionally.

Then she stopped as she realised she needed to pack and pick up the fallen dagger.

"No need, Sharon will settle it and, ahem, make herself *very* useful... You just come with me. We're leaving."

"Sharon" stepped forward, causing Rosa to gasp in astonishment. The tall hawkish girl had only eyes for the object of her lust and adoration and had not noticed the loyal maid waiting at the entrance.

As the first recruit of the Duke's new intelligence team glanced over the maid, her first thoughts were - racy, sexy and provocative.

Black cloth shoes covering half of the feet. Long, toned legs in sheer white stockings, muscled at just the right places and with just the right amount. The dark skirt of the black and white uniform ended just below mid-thigh, slightly revealing but not overly so.

A slim waist with not an ounce of fat, figure hugged by the body-hugging, skin-tight outfit.

Square shoulders, looking like someone who took great care of the body's health and condition.

And a scarred face on a bald head.

Invigilator "Sharon".

The maid smiled sweetly, curtseying before "she" daintily picked up the fallen dagger and began to sort through the things in the room to be packed up.

As Rosa gulped, amazed, Seline waved for them to leave the helper to "her" work.

She did leave a reminder, though.

"If you forget anything important, I'll punish you..."

She smiled wickedly.

"...By reducing your skirt length by another inch."

Sharon sweated profusely upon hearing this, but maintained a sweet smile and spoke in falsetto.

"Yes, my beloved mistress~! Sharon will make sure to do everything alllllll perfect!"

"...."

"....."

The speechless girls left hastily, perturbed by the scene of a heavily muscled man dressed in a maid uniform, tip-toeing in an attempt to look feminine.

And the voice... Nauseous, the two girls hurried off, feeling like they would puke and regretting the decision to make the man into a maid as punishment.

*They* were the ones being punished here!

Yes. Sarin was a survivor, one willing to do anything to live.

Anything.

Chapter end