I Got My System Late, But I'll Become Beastgod-Chapter 217: Feelings

The fire in the lantern burned low, its warm glow dancing across the stone walls. Outside, the base was alive with footsteps, voices, the clatter of preparations. But here—in this quiet chamber—time seemed to pause.

Aamir sat on the edge of the wooden bench, his crimson cloak pooled at his side. Riya sat across from him, her staff leaning against the wall, her long hair falling loose over her shoulders.

For a long while, neither spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, full of all the things left unsaid.

Riya finally broke it, her voice soft.

"You don’t look like the same Aamir we knew five years ago."

Aamir tilted his head, a faint, almost tired smile tugging at his lips. "Five years changes people."

Her emerald eyes shimmered in the firelight. "It didn’t change me. I’m still the same fool who..." She stopped, her cheeks warming, then whispered, "...the same fool who waited."

His chest tightened. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Riya... why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you waste five years on me? You could’ve moved on. You could’ve—"

"Don’t." Her voice was sharp, cutting through his guilt. Her hands clenched on her lap. "Don’t say that. You don’t understand. It wasn’t a waste. Every day I waited, every day I believed—you were the only thing that kept me standing."

Aamir looked at her, stunned. He had fought beasts, crossed planets, faced generals—but nothing struck harder than those words.

She lowered her voice, trembling. "Do you know how many nights I stood on the walls, staring into the sky, whispering your name? Hoping you’d hear me somehow?"

Aamir swallowed hard. His hands tightened into fists. "Riya..."

Her eyes glistened, but she held his gaze. "I didn’t wait for a hero. I didn’t wait for the Beastlord. I waited for you. Just you."

For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the lantern fire.

Aamir leaned back, exhaling slowly. "You don’t know what I’ve become, Riya. I’m not the boy you knew. I’ve killed. I’ve lost control. I... turned into something I didn’t recognize. A monster."

She rose to her feet, stepping closer until she stood just before him. Her shadow fell across his face.

Her hand reached out, trembling, but steady once it touched his shoulder.

"Even if you turn into a monster, I’ll be there to remind you who you are. Because the Aamir I know—the one I..." She stopped again, breath catching. "...the one I love—is still inside you."

The words struck him like a blade and a balm at once. His crimson eyes burned, but softer now, no longer sharp with fury—just raw.

He stood slowly, facing her. Their height difference was stark, yet in this moment, she felt like the one holding him up.

His voice cracked. "I don’t deserve you waiting for me. Not after everything I failed to protect."

Riya’s lips curved faintly, bittersweet. "Then don’t make me wait anymore."

Their eyes locked. The air between them thickened, charged with something neither battle nor grief could create.

His hand lifted slowly, brushing against her cheek. Her skin was warm, damp with the faint trace of tears. She leaned into his touch, her own hand rising to hold his wrist in place.

"Riya..." he whispered, her name carrying more weight than any oath.

She smiled faintly, whispering back, "I don’t want promises. Just you."

Their faces drew closer. Her breath mingled with his. The space between them thinned until it was almost nothing. His hand slid gently into her hair, her fingers curling against his chest.

For the first time in years, the world outside didn’t matter. There was no war. No Zorwath. No weight of destiny. Just two souls, scarred and tired, finding each other again.

Their lips were a breath apart—

BANG!

The door swung open.

"Lady Riya!" a soldier called, slightly out of breath, holding a crate in his arms. "The decoration supplies for General Raj’s wedding have just arrived. They’re asking where you want them placed."

The spell shattered.

Riya froze, her cheeks flaming red. She stepped back quickly, her hand slipping from Aamir’s chest. He lowered his arm, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to calm.

The soldier blinked, realizing he had interrupted something, but didn’t dare comment. He simply stood awkwardly, waiting.

Riya cleared her throat, trying to steady her voice. "I... I’ll come see them in a moment. Tell them to wait outside the hall."

The soldier saluted quickly. "Yes, Lady Riya!" Then he hurried off, closing the door behind him.

Silence returned.

Riya pressed her palm against her burning cheek, refusing to meet Aamir’s eyes. "That was... um..."

Aamir exhaled, a quiet laugh escaping his lips despite the tension. "Terrible timing."

She finally looked up at him, a small, nervous smile breaking through her embarrassment. "Yeah... terrible."

Their eyes lingered again, the unspoken words still between them.

But for now—they remained unspoken.

The heavy mood of the chamber didn’t linger long. After the interruption, Aamir and Riya stepped outside, their steps slow but steady.

The night air was cooler here, carrying the faint sound of chatter and hammering. Soldiers and workers bustled across the courtyard, moving crates, hanging banners, and arranging rows of lanterns that flickered like tiny stars.

Aamir paused, watching as a group of men carefully carried a stack of polished wooden frames decorated with crimson cloth and golden thread. Another cart rolled in, filled with garlands of fresh flowers—white jasmine, bright marigold, and crimson roses.

Riya smiled faintly at the sight. Her voice softened. "These were supposed to be for next month. But with everything happening... they moved it early."

Aamir raised a brow. "Raj and Meera’s wedding?"

She nodded, her eyes glimmering in the lantern light. "Yes. The council wanted something to lift morale. A reason for the soldiers to laugh again. And Raj... he agreed. Even if it’s sooner than he planned."

Aamir exhaled, crossing his arms. "I can understand. Sometimes the smallest joys are the sharpest weapons against despair."

Riya turned to him, a faint smile tugging her lips. "You sound like you’ve aged fifty years."

He chuckled lightly. "Maybe I did."

They continued walking, weaving past crates and busy hands. Everywhere, the base felt alive in a way Aamir hadn’t seen in years. Laughter echoed as workers hung colorful banners. Children darted around carrying flowers, their giggles chasing away the lingering shadows of war.

For a moment, Aamir let himself breathe it in. This—this was why he fought.

Soon, they reached the open square. Raj was there, speaking with a group of soldiers about security for the wedding. His posture was sharp as ever, but his face carried something softer tonight.

Meera stood beside him, inspecting a box of jewelry with narrowed eyes, scolding the poor vendor for scratches on the silver bangles.

Kunal leaned lazily against a crate, glasses glinting as he teased one of the decorators about symmetry. His usual smirk was firmly in place, though his hand rested protectively on Ji-Won’s shoulder as she watched from a chair nearby.

And Seenu... he was leaning against a stone pillar, arms crossed, his sword resting casually on his shoulder. His eyes, sharp as always, found Aamir the moment he entered.

The busy square seemed to pause for a second as the six of them finally stood in one place again.

Raj smirked. "Look who finally decided to join us."

Aamir raised a brow. "I was here before you started arguing over garlands."

Meera gave Raj a sharp elbow to the ribs. "He’s right. And you—stop nitpicking the flowers."

Raj rubbed his side, muttering. "General’s job..."

Kunal snorted. "General of headaches, maybe."

Aamir chuckled. It almost felt like old times.

Then, without warning—

Shing!

Seenu’s sword flashed in the lantern light.

Aamir barely moved in time, his hand snapping up to block the flat of the blade with his forearm. The steel vibrated against his skin, the impact sharp enough to make the nearby workers gasp.

"Seenu!" Riya exclaimed, stepping forward.

But Seenu only grinned faintly, his usually calm eyes glimmering with something fierce—and playful.

"Relax. I’m not here to kill him. Just been twitching for a good spar. And now’s the best time."

Raj blinked, then smirked. "Oh, here we go."

Kunal adjusted his glasses, already amused. "Finally. The reunion fight."

Aamir narrowed his eyes at Seenu, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. He flexed his hands, crimson aura flickering faintly. "You could’ve just asked."

Seenu shrugged. "Not my style."

Meera groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Boys. Always like this."

But even she couldn’t hide the small smile tugging her lips.

Riya shook her head, but her eyes softened as she watched them.

The workers quickly backed away, clearing space in the square. The decorations, the garlands, the lanterns—forgotten for a moment as tension filled the air.

Raj cracked his knuckles, stepping closer. "If you’re sparring, then I’m in."

Kunal pushed off the crate, smirking. "Can’t let you hog the fun."

The six of them now stood facing one another in the open square.

Aamir, Seenu, Raj, Kunal.

Riya and Meera stepping up behind, watching with mixed expressions of annoyance and fondness.

The night air buzzed with anticipation.

Seenu twirled his sword once, then pointed it toward Aamir.

"Let’s see if five years made you rusty—or unstoppable."

Aamir’s crimson eyes flared, his lips curling into a smirk. "You’ll find out soon enough."

And just like that—

The friendly spar began.