Chapter 95: One Last Goodbye

The moment Daemon’s fist connected, the entire gate exit froze.

Cameras kept rolling. Phones stayed raised. Reporters who had been shouting questions a second earlier went silent just long enough for the sound of impact to finish echoing off the barricades.

Julian staggered back with blood running from his mouth, jaw clearly broken, eyes wide with disbelief more than pain.

Roxanna moved first.

She knew exactly what had happened. Julian had provoked Daemon on purpose, and he deserved every bit of that punch. In private, she would not have stopped it.

In front of these cameras, though, public truth and public image were not the same thing. No matter how justified the hit had been, Daemon would look like the aggressor once the clips started spreading.

Reputation damage moved faster than explanations, and WHA politics never waited for full context.

She stepped in quickly and caught Julian before he fully collapsed against the barrier line.

"Hold still," she said.

Julian tried to speak and only managed a broken sound. Blood kept dripping from his lips onto his uniform collar. Roxanna placed both hands near his jaw and released her Lifeweaver energy in a controlled stream.

Broken bone realigned under her palms. Torn tissue closed. Teeth that had been cracked and displaced reformed under the soft white-green light of her healing.

Within seconds, Julian’s face was whole again.

He still looked shaken, more from shock than injury now.

Before he could recover enough to start talking to the press again, WHA officials pushed through the crowd. Two of them took Julian by the arms and guided him away from the cameras with practiced efficiency.

One official blocked a reporter’s path. Another ordered the immediate area cleared and told the media team to fall back behind the outer line. A few phones still recorded from farther away, but the official scramble had already begun.

Daemon watched it all from near the car, expression unreadable.

He did not look proud. He did not look sorry either.

Roxanna finished the required post-clearance reports as fast as procedure allowed, ignored every question thrown at her, and finally walked over. She opened the passenger door and sat beside him without ceremony.

The noise outside dulled once the door shut, leaving only the low hum of the engine and the distant shouting of the press.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Daemon said quietly, "I know what you’re going to say."

Roxanna glanced at him.

"But trust me," he continued. "I gave him too much time already. Today the timing just wasn’t on my side."

"I’m not going to tell you that you were wrong," Roxanna said. "He earned that. The problem is the place. Social media is going to escalate this within minutes.

By the time we reach the estate, half the country will have a clip of you punching an S-Rank captain outside an official gate."

Daemon leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes briefly.

"I don’t care what they say. I’m not going to listen to it either."

Roxanna studied him for a second, then nodded slowly.

"We already have enough real problems to care about," she said. "Still, Daemon... men like Julian are not going to disappear. You’re going to deal with more of them. Handling everything with fists won’t always protect the people around you."

Daemon turned his head and gave her a small smile.

"Alright. If I don’t handle it properly, you’ll do it for me and teach me."

Roxanna laughed despite herself, the tension in her shoulders loosening just a little.

"How can you still talk like that? Out there you just created viral news, and in here you act like none of it matters."

"Because it doesn’t matter as much as what I found inside," Daemon said, voice lower now. "That dungeon had a connection to Kassia’s White Dragon lineage.

The System confirmed it. I think the dragon race from Virendal sensed her awakening on Earth. Whether they only want information or something more, I don’t know yet."

Roxanna’s expression sharpened at once.

"And if they come again? If they try to take her?"

"That is not happening," Daemon said without hesitation. "She does not belong to them just because she awakened their lineage. Being connected by blood does not mean they get to claim her life."

"I agree," Roxanna said. "But we still have to do something. If we ignore this, it can become trouble for ordinary people here and for us.

Scout routes don’t appear once and vanish forever. If this gate was a probe, someone on the other side is already paying attention."

Daemon nodded.

"We need to ask Guild Master Rosalind how many active gates show the same dragon-race pattern as this one. If this was only a probe path, there may be others already open or waiting to open. If not, then we talk directly."

"For that, we have to go back to Virendal," Roxanna said. "And speak with Queen Morwenna first. If anyone understands how the dragon race moves across worlds, it will be her."

The name landed harder than she expected.

Daemon’s expression changed for a fraction of a second not fear, not simple surprise, but something deeper and harder to read. A flicker of memory, maybe. Or something he had not fully faced yet.

Roxanna noticed, though she did not push it. Not here. Not while the car still sat near a crowd of cameras and half the city was about to replay the punch online.

Then her phone rang.

She looked at the screen, and her face changed again.

Garrick.

For a brief second she only stared at the name, thumb hovering over the side of the phone. Part of her wanted to ignore it.

She answered.

"What is it?"

There was a short silence on the line before Garrick spoke. His voice came through quieter than she remembered, stripped of the old controlling edge he used to wear like armor.

"I signed the divorce documents," he said. "Everything is done on my side. Come collect them."

Roxanna kept her eyes on the windshield.

"Just send them to my place. I’m working."

Another pause.

"I thought about doing that," Garrick said. "I almost did. But... for the last time, can we meet?"

Roxanna’s fingers tightened slightly around the phone.

"Garrick"

"I know you don’t want to see me," he continued, faster now, as if afraid she would cut the call. "I know I don’t deserve it either.

I’m not asking to change anything. I’m not asking you to come back. I just want to talk to you face to face. One last time. Please."

Roxanna’s first instinct was to refuse.

The old version of her might have agreed out of fear. Or habit. Or the need to keep peace even when peace cost her more than it protected.

That version was gone. She was not afraid of him anymore. She did not freeze under his voice. She did not measure her answers to avoid his mood.

Still, the apartment held some of her personal things. A few books. Old clothes. Small pieces of a life she had already walked away from. If she left those behind and never faced the ending properly, the door would stay half-closed forever.

She exhaled slowly.

"...I’ll come," she said. "Not for a long talk. I need to retrieve a few things from the apartment anyway."

"That’s enough," Garrick said, and for the first time he sounded almost relieved. "I’ll be there."

"Don’t make this complicated," Roxanna added. "Signed papers. My things. That’s all."

"I understand."

When the call ended, the car stayed quiet.

Daemon had heard everything.

He did not tell her not to go. He did not treat her like someone who needed permission. He knew she wanted to handle this herself, and he believed she could.

The woman sitting beside him was no longer the exhausted healer who once carried silent pain like a permanent weight. She was SS-Rank now. Steady. Capable. Strong enough to walk back into an old wound without letting it own her.

But he still cared about her safety.

"Roxy," he said, "if anything happens, use the communication skill. Remember, I can’t teleport directly to your location yet. We haven’t completed the soul bond.

But you can still reach me and the others. Use it if you need to. And keep the vow ring on. It’ll protect you once."

Roxanna looked at him and laughed softly, the tension in her shoulders easing.

"I’m not a child, Daemon. I’m not walking into a war. I’m saying one last goodbye to my ex-husband and picking up personal items. That’s all."

She held his gaze a moment longer, and the humor faded into something warmer and more certain.

"And I have to do this one way or another. Once it’s over, we do what you said. The soul bond. I want that. Just like the others."

Daemon leaned in and kissed her once, brief and firm.

"Alright. Take the car. I’ll use a taxi. First I’ll go to WHA and talk with Rosalind. Then I’ll wait for you at the Hale estate."

He opened the door and stepped out into the daylight.

Behind him, Roxanna watched his back for a second longer than necessary, then started the engine and turned toward the old life she was finally ready to leave behind.

Outside, the city kept moving. Clips of the punch were already spreading. Officials were already managing the story. Somewhere ahead, Garrick was waiting with signed papers and unfinished words.