Chương 40: June

I decided it was time to stop lurking in the shadows like a socially awkward gargoyle and actually introduce myself. I stepped forward, trying to maintain some dignity despite the fact that my new gear jingled like a bag of loose change with every movement. Dimitri spotted me coming and beamed, his face practically glowing with fraternal pride. He waved a massive, iron-cuffed hand toward me, his smile wide enough to bridge worlds.

"Behold, my sister in spirit! This is Arthur, the young man whose soul burns with the untapped potential of a thousand suns!" he rumbled, his thick accent turning a simple introduction into a prophecy. The girl turned her attention away from the bartender and locked those icy blue eyes onto me. For a fleeting heartbeat, her expression did a complete somersault. The delicate, princess-like grace vanished, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated disgust.

It was the kind of face you make when you accidentally step on something squishy and realize it is definitely not mud. I felt a cold sweat prickle under my bandana. I racked my brain, wondering if I had somehow offended her in a past life or if my current ensemble of "Budget Gunner Chic" was just that offensive to her refined sensibilities. She looked at me like I was a particularly persistent skin rash that she had been trying to clear up for weeks.

Without a word, she set her amber glass down on the scarred wood of the counter with a sharp, final clack. She began to walk toward me, her reed sandals slapping softly against the floorboards as she closed the distance. Her gaze was intense, scanning me from my mismatched boots up to my face as if she were inspecting a piece of spoiled meat. As she got within arm's reach, a flicker of blue light cut through the dim tavern air.

A translucent window materialized right next to her head, floating in the smoky atmosphere to give me the statistical breakdown of the person currently looking at me like I was garbage. [Player: Level 2.] She placed a delicate, slender hand against the center of her chest and drew herself up to her full height, which wasn't much, but she managed to look down on me like she was standing on a balcony and I was a peasant complaining about the price of turnips.

When she spoke, it wasn't just a British accent; it was the kind of posh, high-society trill that made you feel like you should be apologizing for breathing the same oxygen. She didn't just look like royalty; she was huffing the fumes of her own perceived greatness.

"You really ought to take a moment to appreciate the sheer magnitude of this occasion," she remarked, her voice dripping with an almost impressive level of narcissism.

"You are currently standing in the presence of the woman destined to become the most formidable sorceress the Endless Dungeon of Eteria has ever witnessed. I am Juniper Kingsley Ward. However, I shall graciously permit you to refer to me as June, solely because you appear to be an associate of a gentleman I find tolerable." She was really leaning into the role, looking like she expected a choir of angels to start singing in the background of this greasy tavern.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. I couldn't help it. My filter just packed its bags and left.

"Of course, your highness," I replied, giving her a look of faux-sincerity.

"Would you like me to fetch a spot of tea to go with that ego, or is the counter-service liquor doing the trick?" The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees as she glared at me, her blue eyes narrowing until they were like freezing laser beams.

"An American, I see," she said, her accent becoming even more pronounced as she curled her lip in a sneer.

"Tell me, how is that abysmal healthcare system of yours faring? Still a shambles, I presume? Or perhaps I should simplify my vocabulary so your colonial brain can keep up. Should I try speaking in terms you might find more relatable? Something like cheeseburger, perhaps? Or perhaps a rousing shout of yee haw?" Dimitri stepped in before the verbal fencing could turn into an international incident, heavying my shoulder with a massive, metal-clad arm that felt like a falling log.

He beamed at both of us, his face a radiant beacon of misguided optimism that somehow managed to ignore the visible sparks flying between June and me.

"Look at this! My heart swells to see such vibrant energy between the two of you already!" he rumbled, his thick Russian accent turning the tense atmosphere into a cozy fireside chat.

"It is truly a sign of a balanced fellowship when the spirits engage so passionately. Is she not the most magnificent addition to our humble company? I can sense her soul is already yearning to march alongside us toward our shared destiny!" June didn't look like she was yearning for a shared destiny; she looked like she was yearning for a giant hole to open up in the floorboards and swallow us whole. She adjusted her faded linen tunic with a sharp, regal tug.

"I most certainly have not reached a conclusion regarding this arrangement," she countered, her posh accent cutting through Dimitri's warmth like a silver blade.

"Furthermore, I have zero recollection of ever uttering the word 'yes' to such a preposterous proposal." I couldn't resist. I leaned into Dimitri's side, ignoring the way his armor dug into my ribs, and shot her the most annoying, punchable smirk I could manage.

"Oh, absolutely, she is practically vibrating with enthusiasm," I added, my voice dripping with mock-sincerity.

"I can see the raw excitement dancing in her eyes. It is truly inspiring to see someone so dedicated to the cause." June stood there, her mouth slightly agape, looking like a girl who had just realized she was being kidnapped by a runaway train of forced friendship. She looked trapped, cornered by Dimitri's relentless kindness and my own brand of tactical sarcasm. I actually felt a tiny, microscopic pang of sympathy for her.

Given that I had been dragged into this same chaotic party just yesterday by a giant Russian man with a heart of gold and a grip of steel, I knew exactly what it felt like to have your life choices made for you by a force of nature. June let out a long, weary sigh that sounded like the air escaping a very expensive, very disappointed balloon. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her porcelain-white fingers, closing her eyes as if trying to blink us out of existence.

"It is truly a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions," she lamented, her posh British accent trembling with dramatic despair.

"Mere moments ago, I was enjoying the serene company of my own thoughts and a moderately acceptable vintage. Now, through some cruel twist of the heavens, I am being coerced into laboring alongside a pair of absolute babbling buffoons." The moment those words left her lips, I knew we had her. Dimitri and I didn't even need to exchange a look.

In perfect, beautiful synchronization, we brought our hands together for a triumphant fist bump, the clack of his iron gauntlet against my fingerless gloves echoing through the tavern like a victory bell. June stared at us, her blue eyes wide and her regal composure finally cracking under the weight of our collective stupidity.

"Is that honestly your reaction?" she demanded, her voice rising an octave in sheer disbelief.

"I have just delivered a stinging insult directly to your faces, and you celebrate as if you have been knighted by the Queen herself!" I gave her a lopsided grin, feeling the comforting weight of my new gunner gear as I shrugged my shoulders.

"An insult? Is that what that was?" I asked, my voice dripping with mock innocence.

"I'm sorry, your highness, but I think you have us confused with people who have dignity. I just thought you were making a very astute observation of the facts. Naturally, we are in total agreement with your assessment." June just stood there, her jaw practically hitting the sticky floorboards as she looked between the two of us. She looked like she had finally encountered something her royal upbringing hadn't prepared her for: two guys who were completely immune to shame.