Hiro's body lies motionless.
Levin has already stepped forward, his sword raised high. Lightning still crackles along its blade. Sora and Glace move from the right, water and ice forming a circle once more. Rock lifts his poisoned sword. Blaze clenches his fist, flames burning larger than before. Vayle compresses the air around Paragon's body, increasing the pressure. Pulse stands at the very back, watching, ready to channel energy if necessary.
They charge at once.
However—Hiro's body rises.
He stands upright in one rigid, decisive motion.
Hiro raises one hand into the air.
Levin halts abruptly. His sword remains lifted, but he does not swing it.
Sora restrains the water.
Glace stops the ice just before it fully freezes.
Blaze brakes mid-step.
Rock halts his thrust mere inches from Hiro's body.
Vayle withdraws the pressure in the air.
The entire battlefield seems to freeze in an instant.
Time does not stop.
Hiro slowly lowers his hand to his chest.
"Withdraw," he says.
His voice is heavy.
Deep.
Not Hiro's voice.
Nor Paragon's.
"Go to the south. That is where I reside."
Hiro's gaze sweeps across them one by one.
Levin.
Sora.
Glace.
Hizu.
Rock.
Vayle.
Blaze.
Pulse.
An invisible pressure forces them to step back.
Pulse straightens, then ascends into the air.
One by one, the others follow.
Levin leaps and streaks away like lightning.
Sora rises within a vortex of water.
Glace glides upon shards of ice.
Hizu jumps high and vanishes into the distance.
Rock plants his sword into the ground before pulling it free and launching away.
Vayle is carried by the wind.
Blaze is the last.
He stares at Hiro for a moment, flames still burning around his fist.
Then they extinguish.
He flies after the others.
The battlefield falls silent.
Hiro still stands.
His body leans slightly forward.
"I am proud of you, boy," the voice whispers.
The wind blows gently.
"Yet your strong body… is not the result of your own making."
Hiro's hand touches his own abdomen.
"These muscles. This endurance. Paragon shaped them. Paragon adjusted them to withstand His Power."
His breathing grows heavier.
"I am making your body grow thinner now. Consider it a trial I grant you."
Hiro lifts his head toward the sky; dawn approaches.
"Whether we shall meet again, I do not know. I do not hope for it."
"Paragon will always be a problem for me… and for you as well."
Silence lingers.
"But there is another figure I now worry about…"
His gaze sharpens.
"Farewell."
Hiro's body loses its support.
BRUK—
He collapses to the ground, losing consciousness instantly.
—
I open my eyes.
Sunlight enters through the small window beside me.
The blue sky drifts slowly past.
It takes several seconds to realize that I am sitting.
Not on the ground.
Not on a battlefield.
Inside a train carriage.
Iron wheels grind against the rails, producing a steady rhythmic sound. The wooden bench beneath me feels hard, yet real.
I lower my gaze to my hands.
The wounds that once felt as though they tore through bone and flesh—are gone.
No trace of Levin's slashes.
No bruises from Hizu's fists.
No burns from Blaze.
All of it is clean.
Completely healed.
I touch my face.
My nose no longer bleeds.
My chest no longer feels as though struck by a massive hammer.
He heals every wound Paragon inflicted.
However—
I frown.
My arms look smaller.
I grip my own wrist.
My muscles have diminished.
My body feels lighter.
"He heals all the pain Paragon caused, and now he makes me thin," I murmur softly.
The Sun.
Lucifer.
So that is his name.
I lean back against the seat.
This train is heading toward Gaelvorn.
The route is recognizable from the sound of the rails and the direction of the sunlight.
This seems like the right time to train.
I recall his words.
A great war?
Another figure?
I exhale slowly.
What truly happens behind all of this?
Why does the crystal choose me?
Or…
Am I simply careless enough to take it?
I rest my head against the wall of the carriage.
If time could be reversed, perhaps I would choose not to touch that crystal.
Not to lift it.
Not to claim it.
Even so…
I know.
My life might still end in another way, no less painful.
A small laugh escapes me.
It sounds foolish.
Rose would likely slap me if she hears that again.
I gaze at the sky beyond the window.
A great war.
And another figure even Lucifer fears.
I close my eyes.
Whatever awaits—
When I open them…
I will face it.
---
An open landscape stretches before them.
Mountains extend across the horizon. The air is clean and thin. A river winds like a silver ribbon, flowing calmly before plunging from a high cliff to form a waterfall whose roar can be heard from the main road. A wooden carriage moves slowly along the hardened dirt road that connects several small settlements.
Below the route, the valley is covered in dense forest. In certain areas, the trees give way to wheat fields and vegetable gardens. From a small hut, a thin line of smoke rises straight into the air, indicating that life proceeds as usual.
Two days of travel pass without significant disturbance.
The carriage finally enters the territory of Quenstown. Wooden houses stand along the shore. The salty scent of seawater mingles with the aroma of damp wood and fishing nets laid out to dry.
The carriage passes a bar that was once lively. Now its door is half-closed. There is no music, no loud laughter. The celebrations that once filled the place have long since ceased.
The townspeople walk more slowly. Their faces bear exhaustion.
After the carriage reaches a small hill on the eastern side of town, the sea comes fully into view. Waves reflect the morning sunlight. The sea breeze blows more strongly at that height.
The carriage stops.
Rose descends first. She draws a long breath. Aunt Anne follows, and Krieger steps down after her with heavy yet steady strides.
The carriage resumes its movement down the hill, leaving the three of them behind.
Before them stands a modest house near the hillside. It faces the sea directly. From there, the entire coastline is clearly visible.
"It is still the same as before," Krieger murmurs quietly.
Rose steps forward toward the door.
The door opens as it is pushed. Morning sunlight illuminates the main hall. Fine dust floats in the air.
"Olivia," Rose calls out clearly, "are you home?"