The wind blew softly through the palace.
A massive breach scarred the side of the hall — the mark left by Dante and Baldek. Through the gaping opening, sunlight streamed in. A cool breeze swept into the shattered space, lifting dust, making the dying torch flames flicker. It brushed along the cracked floor, snaked between broken columns, and whispered through the ruined arches.
The air smelled of scorched stone, blood, and the memories of a world in collapse.
The two fighters stood still, frozen at the heart of the chaos.
Samuel, his arm still raised, his blade suspended a hair's breadth from Relia's throat.
She hadn't moved.
She had accepted death.
But she was still breathing.
The wind lifted a strand of her hair. Her eyes opened slowly, disbelieving. What she saw was not death. It was Samuel. His dark gaze locked with hers. A gaze that held no cruelty. But was filled with something else…
Something strangely… human.
The blade hadn't moved.
And yet, it should have already sliced her. Cleanly.
Samuel breathed steadily. His arm barely trembled. Then, finally, he lowered his sword. Slowly. With an almost ritualistic calm. The darkness coating his blade faded, sucked back into silence.
He let go of her shoulder. She hadn't even realized he was still gripping it with near-inhuman strength.
She touched the sore spot. And looked up.
— Why…
She didn't get to finish.
Samuel spoke first. His voice, as always, calm. Neutral. But firm.
— I have… a passive skill.
He averted his eyes for a second, scratching the back of his head, almost awkwardly.
— It rarely activates. But when I touch certain people… their emotions, their thoughts… I can hear them. Feel them. Sometimes… even see them.
He looked her in the eyes again.
— When I grabbed your shoulder… I saw your father.
Relia instinctively stepped back. Her breath caught.
He went on.
— I saw the message. Heard his words. I felt your pain. Your anger. Your sorrow. Your rage. And…
He paused.
— …your will to take revenge.
The hall around them seemed to be listening too.
The breeze made the dust dance in the light.
Relia clenched her teeth. She looked away. She didn't know what to say. She felt exposed.
— That's a dangerous power, she murmured.
— It's a useless one, most of the time, he replied plainly. But this time… it kept me from killing you.
She stared at him, searching for a crack, a lie.
But there was none.
— You were about to take my head… and you stopped just because you saw what I saw?
He nodded slowly.
— You were going to die for a kingdom that lied to you. For a father who shaped you into a weapon. For people who deceived you your whole life. You carried a loyalty that was manufactured. Forged in lies. And you were going to die with that.
He lowered his eyes for a second.
— But now… you know the truth.
Relia inhaled, her gaze vacant.
— I don't even know who I am anymore…
She closed her eyes, and exhaled:
— …but I know what I want.
She reopened them. They were burning.
— I want them to pay. All of them. The ones who killed my people. The ones who used me. And him… my adoptive father… Valemir Luminus. "The Silent Wall." He said he hoped for my forgiveness. But I'll never forgive him.
A new silence settled.
Then she spoke again, with resolve:
— You're trying to return to your world, aren't you?
Samuel nodded.
She stepped closer.
— I can help you. I know old paths. Forgotten names. People worth speaking to. Hidden rituals. I'll also explain… all the secrets of this world. I can make sure you find what you're looking for.
But she stopped just in front of him, her eyes hard again.
— In exchange… you help me bring down the Kingdom of Chronos. You help me destroy the rotten bastards who run this country. And you help me kill Valemir with my own hands.
Samuel didn't answer right away. He looked at her. She was no longer the flawless knight. No longer the idealized protector. She was broken, cracked, and filled with fire.
A free weapon.
He slowly extended his hand.
— Deal.
Relia stared at his hand for a moment… then shook it.
In the shadows of a shattered hall…
A pact was forged.
Not between heroes.
Not between enemies.
But between two souls broken by life.
Two weapons, now aimed at the same target.