The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 1158 - 176 - The First Expedition (7)

I decided to leave her to her own accord after that. I lingered for a moment, just standing there, watching her back as she sat stiffly in place, refusing to rest. I wanted her to go to sleep—genuinely wanted her to—but it was painfully obvious that she wasn’t going to allow herself that luxury. Her posture alone screamed resistance, as if closing her eyes would somehow be a betrayal of her duty. In the end, I realized there was nothing more I could do. Words wouldn’t reach her right now, and forcing the issue would only make things worse. So I left her there.

At this point, I really didn’t have anything left that I could do for her. She had already made up her mind. She was practically hell-bent on doing whatever she could to protect us, even if that meant grinding herself down until there was nothing left. That kind of resolve was admirable—but it was also terrifying.

As I made my way back toward our tent, the camp was quiet in that strange, uneasy way that only came after long exhaustion. The air felt heavy, like it was holding its breath. My footsteps were slow, dragging slightly against the ground, my body moving on habit more than intent. That was when Ayaka suddenly appeared right in front of me.

I stopped short.

"Can you please stop appearing out of nowhere?" I asked, letting out a tired sigh as my hand instinctively moved, half-expecting danger before my brain caught up.

"I’m not really doing it on purpose," she replied calmly. "But, well... I think my presence has been getting weaker lately." She tilted her head slightly, thoughtful. "I feel like I could even hide it completely now, if I tried. Maybe it’s because of my hero status. What do you think?"

The way she said it—casual, almost proud—made it clear she was at least a little pleased with herself.

"You changing like that doesn’t really matter," I told her honestly. "I mean, all of us have been changing anyway. More than that, I think we’ve already changed enough that we don’t even care about stuff like this anymore."

She didn’t respond right away.

"Do you think..." Ayaka suddenly began, then stopped. Her voice trailed off as she looked at me, hesitation clear in her eyes. She opened her mouth again, then closed it, like she was testing the words before letting them out. "Do you think..." she tried once more, swallowing slightly. "Do you think we’re still going to be the same when we return?"

Her question settled heavily between us.

The area around us fell completely silent, like the world itself was waiting for an answer. Honestly, it was a good question. A terrifyingly good one. If we somehow managed to return home—if that even became an option—would we really be the same? Or would we come back as something else entirely?

And it wasn’t just about our bodies.

Physically speaking, there was a real possibility that we’d still have the powers we gained here once we returned. That idea didn’t feel unrealistic anymore. If anything, it felt inevitable. We had trained nonstop. Our bodies had changed, hardened, and adapted. The strength, the reflexes, the instincts—they were no longer borrowed. They were ours. Our experiences here were real, carved into muscle and memory alike. Because of that, it only made sense that we’d retain our abilities and powers as well. At this point, it didn’t feel like a matter of if, but when.

Psychologically, though... that was a completely different story.

We had seen or might see things no normal person should ever have to witness. Fear. Desperation. And possibly death. The kind of horrors that don’t fade just because you leave the place where they happened. Those things change you. They reshape how you think, how you react, how you see the world. Trauma doesn’t ask for permission—it just settles in and makes itself at home. Right now, there was no way to tell if we’d still recognize ourselves if we ever made it back to Earth.

"I don’t know," I finally said.

Even though I already had my own answer forming in my head, that was still the truth. "I don’t really care right now," I continued, my voice steady but tired. "Don’t you think we should just worry about it when it actually happens? If it happens?"

When I said that, Ayaka smiled. It wasn’t a bright smile—more subdued, almost bittersweet—but it felt genuine. She probably already knew, deep down, that there was no way we’d remain the same after all of this.

"Are you going to sleep now?" I asked her, trying to steer the conversation somewhere lighter.

"I don’t think I can sleep in a situation like this," she replied quietly.

"Yeah," I said with a small shrug. "Guess we’re the same."

I didn’t have any concrete plan. I figured I’d just keep walking until exhaustion finally dragged me down on its own. Let sleep claim me whenever it decided I’d had enough.

"Oh..." Ayaka suddenly said.

She was staring off in the direction I’d come from.

"It’s Hasegawa-sensei," she continued. "She’s fallen asleep."

I followed her gaze, and sure enough, there she was. Hasegawa-sensei was slumped over the table, her head resting awkwardly against it, completely out cold. A thin line of drool trailed from the corner of her mouth. I wasn’t sure how I could even tell that from this distance, but somehow I knew. Maybe that, too, was one of the changes we’d gone through.

"Let’s carry her to her tent," I said, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

Together, we moved carefully, lifting Hasegawa-sensei as gently as we could. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, mumbling something incoherent under her breath. We carried her to her tent and laid her down properly, making sure she was comfortable before quietly stepping away and letting her rest.

***

James’s POV

I was seated in a town within Milham, idly swirling wine in a glass as I observed my surroundings. The place I was in was absurdly luxurious. Calling it a restaurant almost felt like an understatement—it was Leonamon’s, after all. Every detail, from the furniture to the air itself, screamed refinement.

I took a slow sip of the wine. The flavor spread across my tongue, rich and complex, something I hadn’t even known could exist until now.

That was when Claire appeared.

She was wearing clothes for once, which alone made the moment notable. As usual, she had that familiar grin plastered on her face, the kind that suggested she already knew something interesting.

"It seems Shredica successfully managed to summon the heroes," she said casually. "Well, that’s no surprise. That woman... even though she irritates me sometimes, she’s quite capable."

"That just proves we chose the right woman to handle the portion of the spell needed for the summoning," I replied, setting my glass down. "From here on out, things are going to get much more interesting. Don’t you think?"

"Well, obviously," Claire said with a shrug. "With people from another world acting as heroes, the board’s definitely gotten more exciting. So?" She leaned forward slightly. "What’s your next move?"

"We’ll make sure those hatchlings grow properly," I said calmly. "And just before the kingdom gets to reap the benefits of their growth, I’ll snatch them right out from under its nose. That was the reason I wanted them summoned in the first place."

That was the truth of it.

The heroes were pawns—but they weren’t ordinary pawns. They were high-value pieces, ones worth waiting for. Once the kingdom finished nurturing them, once they believed they had everything under control, I would take them at their peak.

After all, ripe pieces were always the easiest to claim.