The market at the edge of Mura no Ana buzzed with life. The air was thick with the smell of fruit and fresh wood, and an old grocery store stood in the middle of it all — a humble building with a timber frame and baskets overflowing with color.
Achlys and Lecia leaned eagerly over the crates, their eyes glittering like children's. "Cryo!" Achlys called out, holding up a bright, red, apple-like fruit that gleamed under the sunlight. "Look at these! Can we buy them, please?"
Lecia already had one in her hand, her lips parted in anticipation.
"No, we can't," Cryo said flatly, scanning the shelves with practiced disinterest. He lifted a large purple fruit, rough-skinned and oddly glowing beneath the light. "What we need are Gruiva fruits. They're healthy, full of nutrients—and one of these could feed a family of six."
When he turned back, his face twitched. Achlys and Lecia were already munching on the fruits they'd picked, juice dribbling down their chins. For two seconds, the world fell silent. Then—
"ACHLYS! LECIA! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?"
Cryo hurled the Gruiva fruit at them. They dodged effortlessly. It hit the shopkeeper square in the face instead.
A wet splop echoed through the air as red pulp dripped down his cheeks. The man's eyes burned like a demon's, and his voice boomed through the market.
"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY SHOP—RIGHT NOW!!"
The trio was kicked into the street.
Lecia glared at Cryo. "Why would you throw it!? This is your fault! We didn't even get to buy anything!"
Cryo spun on her, feathers flaring. "My fault!? You two were eating stolen fruit like toddlers at a festival!"
"You shouldn't have thrown it!" Lecia stomped the ground, her face reddening.
Cryo finally snapped. "You want to talk back?" He charged at her and started whacking her over the head. Achlys tried to step between them—only to get caught in the crossfire.
A few minutes later, both Lecia and Achlys sat in the dirt, bruised and dizzy.
"Do you understand now?" Cryo huffed, standing over them with smug satisfaction.
"Yes," they groaned in unison.
"Good," Cryo smirked and transformed into his phoenix form, settling on Achlys' head. "I need some rest now." Within seconds, he was snoring softly.
Achlys sighed, petting him absentmindedly as they continued down the mountain road.
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Behind Mura no Ana, the Hazel Jack range towered against the sky, its peaks wrapped in churning clouds. Gales howled through narrow passes, carrying shards of ice and grit.
Through the storm, a single figure pressed forward.
Tiabishi's breath came fast and white in the freezing wind. She climbed relentlessly, her pace quickening as a distant town came into view. With a flick of her wrist, wings of shimmering ice formed behind her, catching the gusts as she leaped from one crag to another.
"Where is that moron of a partner!?" she yelled into the wind. "When I find him—he's dead!"
Hours later, she reached the town's edge. The center square was dominated by a massive hole carved into the earth, a sight so unnatural it drew crowds of gawking tourists.
A guide gestured toward the abyss. "They say an angel fell here from the heavens—banished for attempting to kill her god. Some claim a young boy found her… and a bird resembling the Ice Phoenix."
Tiabishi froze. She stepped closer. "A boy and a bird? Where are they now?"
The guide shrugged. "They left. Vanished without a word."
As Tiabishi turned away, something caught her eye. A faint, glowing mark shimmered on the woman's face—like a pickaxe etched into her skin.
Her blood ran cold.
"You're an Order!?" Tiabishi's sword was already in her hand, the tip pressed against the woman's throat. "Did you kill him? My beloved!?"
The woman did not flinch. She smiled faintly, serene in the face of Tiabishi's fury. "That's not the right move here. No harm came to him. In fact…" she touched the scar on her cheek, "…I was the one who was hurt. This mark is the price I paid."
Tiabishi froze, realization softening her expression. She stepped back and bowed deeply. "Forgive me. I'm sorry for my outburst."
The woman waved it off. "It's all right. The past belongs to itself."
"Thank you," Tiabishi said quietly. Her eyes hardened again. "But when I find him, I will make him pay for worrying me."
Her fists clenched, aura flaring briefly—so fierce the tourists nearby stepped back.
"Oh my," the guide whispered.
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Achlys shivered. A cold prickle crept down his spine.
"What's wrong?" Cryo asked, peeking open one eye.
"Nothing," Achlys muttered. "It just… felt like someone's cursing me."
Lecia laughed and flung her arms around him. "Don't worry, honey! I'll protect you!"
"Get off me, witch!" Achlys protested, pushing her away. "You're too old for this!"
"Age is just a number!" she sang, clinging to him like a vine.
"You're ancient!"
He finally pried her off, glaring. She pouted dramatically.
Cryo groaned. "Why do I travel with you two?"
"Because you chose me as your master, stupid bird," Achlys replied, smirking.
Cryo raised his eyes to the heavens. "God of curses, strike me down now."
Lecia headbutted him. "You're still a frozen turkey that melts in the sun!"
Cryo headbutted her back. "Better a turkey than Heaven's rejected experiment!"
Their fight devolved into chaos. Achlys kept walking, sighing to himself. "Life with Cryo is… much more fun now that he's my friend instead of my servant."
Behind him, Lecia screamed in pain. "Argh! That hurts, you feathered idiot!"
He didn't look back. Just smiled faintly and murmured, "Goodbye, Loipetras."
Lecia and Cryo paused their brawl and nodded in agreement. "We'll protect him," they said quietly. "With our lives."
Then they followed him into the mountains, the wind howling around them.
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High above the world, the city of Libertatis shimmered like a mirage among clouds. Known as the Flying City, it thrived upon a living root — a colossal branch that stretched from the sacred Tree of Hesperia down to the surface far below. That root now served as a natural staircase for pilgrims and wanderers alike.
The city itself bloomed with glass-petal flowers and bridges woven from living vines, its streets alive with music, laughter, and the quiet hum of magic. But beneath the beauty, deep underground, lay a chamber untouched by sunlight.
In its heart stood a throne.
A young messenger burst through the heavy doors, kneeling before the figure seated upon it.
The man on the throne wore an eyepatch, his face scarred by old battles. Pink hair fell around a crown that glimmered faintly in the dim light filtering through cracks in the ceiling. His presence was regal but cold—an unyielding reminder of the wars he'd survived.
"My lord," the messenger gasped, bowing deeply. "The prophet has spoken… she has foreseen a disaster. An event of doom."
The ruler's expression hardened. "What more did she say?"
"She said a card—some omen—will arrive in this city and bring destruction with it. She claims this… being will cause the end of our world."
The chamber fell silent.
The ruler's voice was measured when he finally spoke. "How long? How many years?"
The messenger hesitated, trembling. "She… she didn't say, my lord."
A long sigh escaped the ruler's lips. He rubbed his forehead, weariness lining every word. "I see. It's unfortunate."
He leaned back into the shadows of his throne. "You may go."
The young man bowed again and fled, his footsteps echoing in the dark corridor. Outside, his heart pounded like a drum. The words of the prophecy clung to him like frost.
The card will come.
And when it does, the world will end.