The dense greenery gave way to a quiet clearing nestled deep within the forest, where steam drifted gently above a wide, natural hot spring. The water shimmered, framed by stones worn smooth with time. This place felt untouched by the chaos of the outside world—sacred, almost.
"I didn't expect a place like this to even exist here," Rob muttered, his voice full of awe as he stepped into the warmth.
"It's been here for ages," Michael replied, already chest-deep, leaning against a rock with his eyes half closed. "The Elder showed us the way."
Torren stretched out his arms along the stone edge. "Said we needed rest before anything else. For once, I agreed with him."
Blitz eased into the water with a low sigh. "I didn't think my body could still feel comfort."
Ralph, moving slowly with lingering burns across his arms, winced as he entered but didn't back out. "This might actually be the only thing keeping me from screaming."
Blitz glanced around, letting out a soft whistle. "Warm water, peaceful forest, no one trying to kill us. I could get used to this."
"You say that now," Torren smirked. "Wait until the Elder decides we're too relaxed."
Rob leaned back with a contented grunt. "Still… after everything, this doesn't feel real."
"No fire. No screaming. No freak with a regeneration ring trying to roast us," Ralph said flatly.
Everyone went quiet for a moment. The image of Adam's final moments still lingered—how he vanished into a blaze of divine lightning. That kind of power… it wasn't ordinary.
Michael finally spoke, his voice barely above the ripple of water. "Do you think he's really gone this time?"
Torren responded, serious now, "Not even the ring survived. I don't know what that lightning was… but it didn't just kill him. It erased him."
Rob frowned. "And whoever cast it… they were watching."
A long silence followed. The steam wrapped around them like a curtain, muting the world.
Then Ralph muttered, "I still think Blitz overdid it."
Blitz raised an eyebrow. "You wish I was that strong. If that was me, I'd be king by now."
Michael chuckled for the first time in days. "Don't give him ideas."
Despite the shadows of what they'd faced, the spring did its work. For this one, fleeting moment, the group could laugh, breathe, and feel human again.
The sun hung lower now, its golden rays slanting through the trees as the group finally stepped away from the hot spring. Their wounds, once raw and painful, had faded as if days—if not weeks—of recovery had passed in mere minutes.
"Feels like I've grown a whole new body," Torren muttered, tugging lightly at his fresh shirt as they made their way back through the forest path.
"I don't miss the smell of burnt fabric, that's for sure," Rob added, shaking his hair out. "This one even fits."
"I'll still take a bed over rocks tonight," Ralph said, his voice light but tired.
Blitz walked ahead, hands behind his head, whistling a tune that didn't quite match the solemnness of the day. But none of them stopped him—after all, if anyone had earned a moment of denial, it was them.
They reached the Elder's home, where folded sets of clean clothing waited inside. The old man had prepared everything ahead of time as if he'd known how it would all play out. No one questioned it. Not today.
Laughter—soft, quiet, grateful—echoed faintly from within the house as they changed and tended to what remained of their bruised pride.
Meanwhile, back at the clearing, another figure approached the spring.
Elaira walked slowly, each step thoughtful and deliberate. Her eyes moved from the steam still curling into the air to the disturbed ground where footsteps had been.
She didn't enter the water.
Instead, she stood at its edge, arms wrapped loosely around herself.
So much had happened in just a single day.
The battle. Adam. The ring. The fire. The lightning.
And that name—The Forbidden Society.
Her gaze dropped to her reflection in the water, the image rippling slightly with each passing breeze. A strange weight clung to her chest, heavier than fear. It was the quiet burden of knowing this wasn't over.
Not even close.
And yet, in this moment of solitude, something inside her steadied. The spring's warmth didn't just heal wounds—it offered clarity.
She stood there in silence, the forest whispering gently around her as the last light of the sun dipped beyond the trees.
Rob stretched with a yawn, his arms high above his head. "I need some air," he mumbled, stepping toward the door of the Elder's house. "Bit too stuffy in here for me."
No one stopped him as he slipped outside into the cool, quiet evening. The woods were peaceful, wrapped in golden twilight. The wind rustled gently through the trees, and for once—there was no chaos. Just calm.
Elsewhere, tucked behind the natural rocks of the hot spring, Elaira relaxed in the healing warmth, the mist curling around her face like a veil. Her muscles finally unclenched after the day's madness. She leaned back, letting her hair drift across the surface, eyes closed—until they snapped open with sudden purpose.
With a whisper of incantation and a focused breath, she conjured a spell—a glimpse into the near future. Not fate itself, but something close enough.
Let me see… who will I face tomorrow?
A shimmer of light flashed in her palm, and within the steam, a vague image formed. A girl.
Slender. Focused. Holding something—
Elaira squinted, then spoke aloud, half-curious, half-amused.
"Hm. A girl with fortune-telling cards?"
High above, perched on a sturdy branch, a shadow moved.
Unseen by Elaira, the very girl she had glimpsed in the vision watched her in silence. Her eyes glinted with quiet intensity, her legs swinging gently beneath her branch.
"So… you're my opponent tomorrow," the girl murmured softly, lips curving into a thoughtful smile.
She reached into her satchel and pulled out a delicate deck of cards bound in a silver clasp. The girl held them close to her heart, then whispered, "Tell me, cards… what are my chances against that girl tomorrow?"
She shuffled once. Twice.
Three cards floated from the deck like falling leaves, spinning and landing neatly in the air before her.
The girl studied each one.
Then she nodded, closing her eyes.
"I see. Well then… good luck, stranger. May tomorrow's game be interesting."
With that, she slipped the cards away and leapt quietly from the branch, her feet landing soundlessly. Without looking back, she disappeared into the trees, heading toward her own village.
Moments later, Elaira stepped out of the water, suddenly alert. A chill crawled up her spine as she looked around.
Someone had been watching her. She was sure of it.
She quickly dressed and made her way through the underbrush toward the Elder's home.
Just before the path cleared, she saw someone up ahead—Rob.
He turned around just in time to see her emerge from the trees.
"Oh hey—whoa, wait! Elaira?"
She stormed toward him, eyes sharp.
Rob blinked. "W-What's with the look?"
"I felt someone watching me when I left the hot spring," she said coldly. "I don't know what game you're playing—"
"Wait, wait!" Rob held up both hands. "It wasn't me! I just stepped out to look at the stars or… or the trees or whatever!"
"You just happened to be there?" she narrowed her eyes.
"I swear! I didn't even know you were bathing!" he insisted, taking a step back.
But it didn't matter. A few thuds, a yell, and a solid blow later—Rob found himself flat on the ground, groaning.
"Next time," Elaira muttered, brushing past him, "don't ever be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"…I didn't even do anything…" Rob whimpered from the grass.
When Elaira and Rob finally returned to the Elder's house, the atmosphere inside was warm with laughter and light chatter. But the moment Rob stepped through the door—clothes rumpled, cheek slightly red, and his expression somewhere between dazed and embarrassed—all conversation stopped.
Then came the explosion of laughter.
Torren was the first to break. "What happened to you?" he managed between wheezes, clutching his side.
Michael nearly choked on his drink. "Don't tell me you slipped on a rock on the way back!"
"I—" Rob started, then scowled and crossed his arms. "I didn't do anything."
"Sure you didn't," Felix grinned as he leaned back in his chair. "Let me guess… walked in on Elaira by accident?"
"I wasn't even close!" Rob barked.
Elaira, now standing in the doorway beside him, crossed her arms and looked away with a faint blush. "I felt someone watching me. That's all."
"And assumed it was Rob?" Torren asked, raising a brow.
"Well…" she mumbled, cheeks coloring more.
Felix couldn't resist. He leaned forward with a mock-serious face and announced, "Congratulations, Rob! Great first step in dating—get beat up by your crush. Classic move."
Everyone laughed again, even louder this time.
Rob groaned and slumped into the nearest chair. "You're all the worst, guys."
Even the Elder, usually composed, let out a chuckle. "I must admit, lad, I've seen many courtships over the years… but yours may be the most painful beginning yet."
"I. Am. Not. Courting. Anyone!" Rob shouted, covering his face.
Elaira let out a soft sigh, trying not to smile—but a small one escaped anyway.
"Well," Felix smirked, nudging Michael, "at least it's never boring around here."