Chapter 556: Erica Anthos, the Daughter of a War Machine

They needn’t be so wary, for the strange was only;

"...Ah, Heka," Benjamin looked towards the left side of the round basin, more closer to Eric, his expression shifting to recognition, a familiar face that brought relief rather than concern. "I completely forgot about you. Sorry about that."

"It is fine. Sadly, that level of cold doesn’t work on me," Heka replied, her toned arms resting on the stones where her back rested, her posture casual and unconcerned, "so I couldn’t freeze up and die as you commanded. When I sensed your presence leave Siberia location to here, I decided to come myself."

"Heka! Wh-where are your clothes?!" Eric yelled, their voice rising with alarm and embarrassment, and their green eyes widening as they took in the sight.

They were realizing that Heka might have come all the way to the mountain completely nude, without a single scrap of fabric to cover herself, or any regard for modesty.

Heka turned her neck to Eric and paused, her vibrant brown eyes fixing on the elf with an intensity that made Eric’s breath catch.

Her eyes scanned the elven body with a great intensity that made Eric blush and dip lower into the water, submerging themselves further until the water reached their chin.

Then only their eyes and the top of their head remained visible above the surface, as if the liquid could somehow shield them from that piercing and appraising gaze.

It was as if Heka wanted to eat them up with just her eyes, her gaze roaming over every curve and contour with an appetite that was unsettling.

"Cut him... her some slacks, would you?" Benjamin pleaded, his lips twisting with amusement at the scene unfolding before him, waving at Heka to stop gawking so much, to give Eric some breathing room. "Though I know it’s very shocking they turned out to be female. But an exceptionally erotic one, so no problem there I guess."

"Benjamin?!"

Eric recoiled, their body jerking back in the water with such force that it created a small wave, and blushed from being regarded as erotic, their blush staining their light skin with a vivid color that was visible in the dim light of the crystal-lit spring.

"What...?" Heka turned her face to Benjamin, her brow furrowing with confusion. "Could it be that Benjamin thought Eric was a man?"

"Everyone thinks she is a man, smart pants!" Benjamin frowned at what he perceived to be more of Heka’s antics, his forehead creasing with irritation. "Sure they were cute as hell, devastatingly attractive in a way that made people drool, but there was an androgynous feel to it that made it plausible for them to be male, a certain quality that could be interpreted either way depending on the observer’s perspective."

"Really? I never thought so," Heka glanced at Eric again, her eyes traveling over their form with renewed interest, her gaze lingering on specific features. "To my eyes, nothing she did was remotely masculine at all. If anything, Eric is very bad at acting manly. I am far more manly than she is, and I am not even trying."

"...Fair point."

Benjamin nodded, his expression conceding the argument, as Eric gritted their teeth in shame.

Their jaw clenched with frustration at being so thoroughly dissected and found wanting, and their hands balled into fists beneath the water.

Apparently, Heka felt it was a game of misgender, an elaborate jest that she had decided to participate in.

She thought Benjamin was clearly male and he also said many times that he was a man.

So she pretended otherwise and blended in, playing along with the confusion as if it were all an elaborate joke, a performance that she found amusing.

"That said, you sure are a wonderful actress, Heka, truly exceptional at maintaining your cover," Benjamin drooped his eyes, his gaze half-lidded with tired amusement.

He wiped off some strands of bangs from his face, pushing the wet hair away from his forehead with a casual gesture.

"Actress...? Majority of the Amazons in Verdant Spire were trained to mirror and assume multiple personas for espionage and assassination reasons, it is simply part of our upbringing," Heka added casually, her tone light and conversational.

"Sociopathy, then?" Benjamin snickered.

"No, it’s training and discipline." she continued, a teasing lilt entering her voice. "That said, Benjamin sure is good at acting as well. Acting feminine, I mean."

"I’ll smack you, you know," a vein popped on Benjamin’s forehead, a visible pulse of irritation at his temple, his eye twitching with annoyance, as he turned his attention back to Eric, dismissing Heka’s jab with a wave of his hand. "You were about to explain yourself before the meteor fell in. Please, continue."

"Ah, of course!" Eric straightened up, their posture shifting from embarrassed to composed, their shoulders squaring, and they began the confession in a solemn tone.

"My real name is Erica Anthos, not Eric as I have been calling myself. And I joined this guild about 200 years ago. And my father is Hellebore Anthos, the one you saw on the ranking banner..."

As the story went, Erica was the last born of Hellebore before he completely disappeared about three centuries ago.

But when Erica was still young, barely more than a teenager with wide eyes and a curious mind, she usually saw her father, spending time with him, learning from him, and watching him train.

And she loved him more than anything in the world, worshipping the ground he walked upon with the fierce devotion of a child who adored her parent beyond all reason.

He was a well-known knight in the Elven Empire of Amaranthyst, a figure of legend and renown whose name inspired awe.

Hellebore was second only to the ancient empress, Belladova, in raw war power, his prowess on the battlefield unmatched by any save the sovereign herself, his skill with blade and bow the stuff of songs and stories.

In fact, Hellebore was a childhood friend of Belladova, having grown up alongside her, fought and bled beside her in countless conflicts that spanned millennia, their bond forged in the crucible of war and tempered by time.

Erica’s father is ancient, his years stretching far back, before even some recorded history.

But his face and form were unchanged by the passage of eons.

He should technically be a noble among nobles, holding rank and title that would make him one of the most powerful figures in the elven hierarchy, a position of privilege and prestige.

But you cannot take the wild out of a wild animal, cannot tame a creature born for battle and bloodshed.

Hellebore was a machine of war, a living weapon forged for combat, his entire existence dedicated to the art of battle.

And long after the great Celestial war that started 5000 years ago and ended roughly 800 years later, he nearly died—from boredom, the absence of conflict almost driving him to the brink of madness.