Final Life Online

Chapter 162: Blue Wave City VIII


As the waves finally settled, the defenders began to cheer. The tension that had gripped the city walls broke into laughter, shouts, and the clatter of weapons being sheathed.

Guards rushed to check the wounded while healers moved among them, casting recovery spells. The air smelled of salt and burned mana, but there was relief — real, solid relief.

Aria stretched, groaning. "Ugh… my arms are going to hate me tomorrow."

Sophia smirked. "That's what you get for charging into the thick of it."

Caria brushed the dust off her cloak. "You both act like you didn't enjoy it."

Aria grinned. "Of course I did! But I still want that dinner I promised — assuming the city still has food left."

Rhys looked back toward the ocean, making sure no movement stirred beneath the waves. "It's quiet now," he said. "Too quiet, maybe… but I'll take it."

Lyra stepped closer, watching the sea beside him. "The mana currents are calming," she said softly. "Whatever guided those creatures — it's gone."

"Good," Rhys replied. "Bluewave deserves a break."

Puddle floated up beside them in her smaller form, letting out a small hum. "The ocean sleeps again," she said. "But it will always dream, Master."

Rhys smiled. "Then we'll be ready when it wakes."

Aria called out from behind them. "Come on, heroes! The feast should start soon — and I'm not missing it!"

Sophia chuckled. "You just want free food."

"Exactly!" Aria said without shame.

Caria sighed but followed, and soon the group began walking back toward the city. The walls that had glowed with defense runes were dimming now, their light returning to normal. Citizens peeked out from windows and balconies, cheering as the adventurers passed by.

Lyra glanced at Rhys. "It's strange," she said quietly. "Even after a battle like that, the city feels alive — like it's part of the sea, not apart from it."

Rhys nodded. "Maybe that's why it keeps standing."

Puddle made a small splash of agreement. "Humans build walls. But hearts like yours are the real barrier that holds the tide back."

Aria turned and laughed. "Even your slime's getting poetic now."

Puddle puffed up a little, pretending to be offended. "I'm not a slime."

Lyra smiled warmly. "She's right — she's a queen."

As they reached the upper terrace overlooking the moonlit sea, the sounds of music and celebration began to rise from the streets below. Lanterns glowed blue and gold, reflecting off the water like a second sky.

Aria threw her arms up. "Tide's End Feast, here we come!"

Caria shook her head but smiled despite herself. "You'll never change."

Rhys let out a quiet laugh, feeling the tension finally leave his body. Puddle settled on his shoulder, her form shimmering faintly.

"Come on," he said, turning toward the streets. "Let's go celebrate. We earned it."

The streets were already alive when they reached the lower terraces. Vendors had reopened their stalls, musicians played on coral steps, and the smell of grilled fish and sweet bread filled the air. The whole city seemed to move as one — tired, hungry, but happy.

Aria was the first to break formation, making a beeline for the nearest food stall. "Two skewers! No, make that five!" she shouted, already fishing through her pouch for coins.

Sophia rolled her eyes. "You just fought for two hours straight, and your priority is food?"

"Hey, victory tastes better when it's hot!" Aria shot back, already chewing on the first skewer.

Caria was quieter, scanning the area as they walked. "Looks like the worst of the damage is along the east wall," she said. "But the city held up well."

Rhys nodded. "They've done this before. Everyone knows their role."

Lyra walked beside him, her gaze drawn toward the ocean. The waves shimmered faintly, calm again but still pulsing with faint mana. "The sea's energy will settle by morning," she said. "Until then, it'll keep glowing like this."

Puddle peeked out from Rhys's shoulder, her translucent form catching the lantern light. "It's pretty," she said softly.

Aria turned around with a grin. "So is victory."

Sophia sighed. "You're going to say that after every fight, aren't you?"

"Probably," Aria said without hesitation.

They found a spot near the plaza, where long tables had been set up for the Tide's End Feast. Locals and adventurers sat shoulder to shoulder, eating, laughing, trading stories of what they'd seen. A bard was already singing about "the shining sea queen and her tamer," which made Puddle sink slightly into Rhys's hood, embarrassed.

Rhys chuckled. "Looks like you're famous already."

She huffed. "I didn't do it for songs."

Lyra smiled. "Maybe not, but it suits you."

As the night carried on, the group relaxed. Caria joined Sophia in helping heal a few lingering injuries, while Aria challenged a group of other adventurers to a drinking contest. Rhys and Lyra stayed near the edge of the plaza, watching the crowd and the sea beyond.

The city glowed faintly under the moon, its walls steady, its people alive.

"Think we'll get another quest soon?" Lyra asked quietly.

Rhys smirked. "Knowing our luck? Probably before dawn."

She laughed under her breath. "Then we should enjoy this while it lasts."

Rhys didn't argue. He just leaned back slightly, watching the flicker of lanterns over the waves, and listened to the sounds of Bluewave — alive, loud, and proud after the storm.

Puddle's soft voice broke the moment. "Master, can I have one of those skewers Aria's eating?"

Rhys raised an eyebrow. "You don't even eat solid food."

"I can still want it," she said matter-of-factly.

Lyra laughed quietly. "We'll get you something sweet later, promise."

That was enough to make Puddle brighten again, her glow pulsing faintly.

Aria stumbled back to their table with triumph written all over her face — and a half-empty mug in each hand. "Told you," she declared proudly, slamming one down in front of Sophia, "no one in Bluewave can outdrink a Dragonspire graduate!"

Sophia arched an eyebrow. "You're not a graduate. You were expelled."

"Details," Aria said, waving her hand dramatically before collapsing into a seat. "Still counts if I outlasted them."

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