Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 72: Going back to dungeon

Chapter 72: Going back to dungeon

A week had passed in relative peace after Christina’s arrival.

Nothing significant had occurred in the Barony, and Christina found herself enjoying her time more than expected. With the academy on break, she had the rare chance to relax, and the tranquility of her home almost made her consider staying longer.

Surprisingly, she hadn’t seen her father once since arriving. Even more shocking—there were no complaints, no disapproving glares, no stern summons to his study.

It felt strange.

Too quiet.

And that silence? It felt a little too deliberate.

"Still," Christina muttered as she wandered down the familiar marbled hallway, "I could get used to this."

Her boots clicked against the stone floor as she walked lazily, hand trailing along the wall. She passed the portrait of her great-grandfather and the ornamental vase imported from Vasqaria before turning the corner.

It was when she reached the guest wing that she paused.

Something was off.

Specifically—the guest room. The one her mother had been obsessing over since she arrived.

Normally, Lady Cassandra was a picture of poise and grace, managing the household with the quiet power of a noblewoman trained for court and war alike. But today, Christina found her mother standing outside the guest room... fidgeting.

Fidgeting.

"Mother?" Christina called out.

Cassandra turned with a start, quickly composing herself. "Christina. You startled me."

Christina raised a brow, arms crossed. "Is everything alright?"

A strained smile curved her mother’s lips. "Of course. Everything is fine. Nothing for you to worry about, dear."

"Then why are you acting like a nervous debutante before her first ball?"

Cassandra chuckled, but it sounded hollow. "You’re reading too much into things. It’s just... a very important guest is inside. Confidential matters."

Christina stepped forward, eyes flicking to the closed door. "How is this merchant that important?"

"Not like that, but you shouldn’t be here." Her voice was firmer now, with that motherly edge that meant ’Don’t push further.’

But Christina had seen it.

The tightness in her mother’s jaw. The way she kept glancing at the door.

Something was definitely going on.

As Cassandra ushered her daughter away, Christina complied, but her thoughts refused to leave her behind.

Who was in that room?

Was someone threatening her mother?

Why was the guest room under such protection?

And why did she feel like this had something to do with that merchant her mother had been so intent on shielding...?

Meanwhile inside the Guest Room,

A faint scent of mana lingered in the air, mingling with the calming essence of a healing spell. On the large couch near the hearth sat Rilith and Velara, both observing quietly. Romina perched at the edge of an armchair, her eyes flicking between the scene before her and the flickering fire.

In the center stood Yenissa, her long brown hair pulled back in a loose braid, commanding the room with quiet authority.

At her feet, a strange woman knelt—elegant, dressed in robe which had the sign of an adventuerer from Stadia, the capital of Sturgon.

She placed a glowing hand against the chest of a man lying on the bed, the magic pulsing through her palm like golden silk.

Shennong winced slightly but remained still. The bones that had once been broken now realigned with each pass of the healing spell.

Moments passed before he opened his eyes.

He could breathe without pain. He could... move.

Carefully, he shifted, then stood.

"I can walk again..." he whispered.

Yenissa immediately stepped to his side and offered her shoulder. "Take it slow."

He took a breath, then looked at her. "Thank you... Yenissa."

Her smile was soft but triumphant. "This woman is one of the best healers in all of Stadia. I’ve been searching for weeks to find someone who could help you."

Shennong blinked. "Wait... You’ve been in the capital?"

She nodded. "I hypnotized her and brought her here discreetly. No one saw us. No one knows she’s gone."

He stared at her, a strange mix of awe and frustration. "You told me not to take dangerous risks. And here you are, doing the exact same thing."

Yenissa shrugged. "Well... someone has to take care of you."

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "And what about this woman’s family? Her colleagues?"

"None of them know she’s gone," Yenissa said casually. "I made sure to wipe her schedule clean. As far as they know, she’s in a forest collecting herbs."

The healer finally spoke, her voice gentle but firm. "The majority of your ribs are mended. But the internal bruising will take time. No strenuous movements for at least a week."

Shennong gave her a small bow of gratitude. "Even being able to stand is more than I hoped for."

"I will take her back now," Yenissa added, "and release her near Stadia. I won’t let anyone harm her for helping you."

"Or for being forced to help me," Shennong muttered, grimly amused. "Please, Yenissa... don’t do anything like this again without telling me."

She didn’t respond. Just smiled again.

He sighed in surrender, then turned to Rilith and Velara. "I want you two to protect Yenissa in my absence."

Rilith gave a small salute. "Of course."

Velara smirked. "Wouldn’t dream of doing anything else."

They said their farewells to Romina and slipped out with Yenissa and the healer, leaving only Shennong and Romina behind.

He looked at the girl—young, fierce, loyal beyond measure.

"You stayed by my side this whole time," he said softly, placing a hand on her head. "Thank you for making sure I didn’t go insane from boredom."

Romina’s cheeks colored, and she looked away. "I-It was the least I could do. You... you saved me."

He chuckled, then asked, "How are you feeling? No more fevers? No urges to release fire again?"

Romina shook her head. "Surprisingly... after that day, I haven’t felt sick at all."

"Good," he said. "You’re stabilizing."

There was a pause, filled only by the crackling fire.

Then he stretched, wincing only slightly. "I’m heading back to the main room. Time to continue work on the dungeon. Want to come?"

Romina gave him a knowing look. "You already know my answer."

He smiled and turned to leave. But before stepping out, his smile twisted into something more mischievous.

"There’s just... one thing I need to deal with first."

Cassandra stood outside the huge oakwood door, her fingers tightly wringing the hem of her tunic. Her gaze stayed fixed on the door, her heart pounding like war drums in her chest.

Please... just let him be okay.

She had been waiting for what felt like hours, pacing and praying, hoping for any sign that Shennong had stirred, that he was healing—that he was still alive.

Then, without warning, the door creaked open.

Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat.

Shennong stepped out.

Barefoot, bare-chested, the scars across his torso catching the last rays of the setting sun like ancient calligraphy. His short, dark hair flowed behind him in waves, slightly damp as if he had just bathed. His lower half was wrapped simply in a short dark cloth that clung loosely to his frame. His every step, though slow, radiated strength—a vitality that days ago had seemed all but extinguished.

"Sh—Shennong?" Cassandra gasped.

The moment their eyes met, tears sprang unbidden to hers. Her hands flew to her mouth, and before she even realized it, her legs carried her forward.

He could walk again.

She reached him in seconds, flinging her arms around his broad shoulders. He stumbled slightly, caught off guard, then let out a soft chuckle and patted her back gently.

"You’re really walking again... You’re really back..." she whispered, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"I told you," Shennong said with a warm smile, his voice deep and calm, "I’m will come back to hug my woman anytime."

Her grip on him tightened. "You idiot... Don’t scare me like that again..."

He laughed again, then pulled her back gently, just enough to meet her gaze. "Cassandra... thank you. For everything."

She blinked, tears still brimming. "You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do anything..."

"You stayed." His hand rose to rest lightly against her cheek. "You’re a great woman, Cassandra."

The words hit harder than she expected, and a lump formed in her throat. Her gaze fell to the ground as guilt swept over her.

"I’m sorry..." she murmured. "I couldn’t save you. I was powerless when you needed me most. I let you down...with a healer that didn’t even heal you. It is Yenissa who helped you in the end."

"Then," Shennong said with a small grin, "impress me next time."

Cassandra’s eyes widened, surprised by his lighthearted response. She let out a shaky laugh, even as tears streamed down her face. The warmth of his palm against her cheek steadied her—anchored her.

Then, his expression shifted—subtle, but sharp. His voice dropped.

"Where is your daughter?"

Her smile faltered instantly. "What...?"

"I want to speak with her."

Cassandra took a step back, her hands suddenly trembling. "Why?"

Shennong’s gaze didn’t waver. "I’m going to tell her the truth."

All the blood drained from her face.

"No... Shennong, please—" she stuttered, her voice quivering. "You... you can’t do that. Not yet. She’s not ready."

"She deserves to know." His tone was gentle, but unyielding.

"No," Cassandra shook her head, stumbling backward, "she’s just a child. If she hears it from you, it’ll... it’ll break her..."

"She’s not a child. She is older than me." he said. "And if she’s truly your daughter... then she’ll understand you."

Cassandra opened her mouth to protest, but no words came. Panic seized her chest. Her secrets, the ones buried deep, threatened to claw their way to the surface. Not now. Not like this.

Suddenly, Shennong reached for her again and pulled her into a kiss.

It wasn’t fierce—it was tender, slow. His lips pressed against hers with quiet urgency, speaking all the things she didn’t have the courage to say.

When he pulled away, he looked into her eyes.

"Trust me," he whispered. "Everything will be fine."

Cassandra’s breath shuddered. She stared up at him, heart cracking open under the weight of fear and love.

She hesitated.

Then, finally, she nodded.

With a trembling hand, she pointed down the narrow path toward the woods. "She went that way... toward the training area. She always goes there when she needs time alone."

Shennong took her hand in his. "Then let’s go."

The two of them walked in silence, their footsteps soft against the damp earth.