Somewhere around a week ago... during Judas' second day of training with Alfia and Belle.
'There's something weird about her body's condition.'
Judas frowned as he quietly observed Alfia.
He wasn't checking her out or anything like that.
It was more like... he noticed that something was off.
Alfia hid it very well, but Judas was still able to see through her act... albeit vaguely.
He couldn't pinpoint it at first, so in the end, he activated a few of his detection spells... basic diagnostics, nothing invasive... and that was when everything clicked.
'What... what the hell is this?'
Her life energy... her very existence... was flickering.
Like a candle struggling to stay lit in the middle of a raging storm, swaying violently each time her heart beat.
This wasn't normal.
Not even close.
Even an old man breathing his last wouldn't have life energy fluctuating this erratically.
'An incurable disease?'
What he was witnessing... it shouldn't have been possible.
Alfia wasn't just alive.
She was fighting to stay alive.
Clinging to life with a tenacity that went beyond anything he had ever seen... beyond logic, beyond reason.
A willpower so overwhelming that it felt like she was holding death itself at bay through sheer force of will.
'I don't believe it... Is such a thing even possible?'
It shouldn't have been.
And yet... here it was, right in front of him.
Alive.
Burning.
Defying the end that had already claimed her years ago.
"What are you staring at?"
Alfia's sharp voice cut through the air.
Judas lifted his gaze and met her face, still calm and unreadable, her eyes closed as if nothing was wrong.
There was a brief, almost tangible silence... like the world itself had paused for a heartbeat... before Judas found the courage to speak.
"Are you dying?"
The words left his mouth bluntly, carrying the weight of the suspicion he couldn't shake.
True to her reputation, Alfia offered no reply.
Her silence was absolute, her composure unbroken, as if his question were meaningless.
She turned away, her posture as rigid and commanding as ever.
"Tomorrow, don't be late," she said simply, leaving no room for argument.
In the end, since Alfia didn't want to talk about it, there was nothing he could do.
He had no choice but to bury the issue deep within himself, pushing it aside as he focused on everything else.
Until today...
"W-what happened?"
Hestia's voice trembled, barely audible as she rushed toward them, her steps uneven, like she could barely keep herself upright.
"She collapsed... no, she's dying. Her life force... it's been completely drained."
Judas said, his voice heavy with the weight of the truth.
He carefully lifted Alfia's limp form and propped her against a nearby wall.
"No... no way..."
Hestia's face turned ashen, her lips quivering.
She clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles were stark white, her entire body trembling as if trying to resist an unbearable reality.
"I heard you have amazing magic, right? Please... do something!"
Hestia's voice cracked as she grabbed Judas by the sleeve, desperation pouring out of her like a dam breaking.
Her trembling fingers dug into his arm... not out of anger, but fear.
Judas lowered his gaze.
"...I'll try. But I can't promise anything."
He said quietly,
His hands hovered over Alfia's limp body, and the truth stabbed deeper than any blade.
Her life energy, once violently flickering, was now barely a thread.
A faint ember struggling in a void.
A heartbeat skipping like it was forgetting how to exist.
'She was already past her limit many years ago... So why?'
He knew why.
She pushed herself.
For Belle.
For the future of the Lower World.
For her duty as the last remnant of a bygone era.
He clenched his teeth as he let magic power flow into her body... not to heal, but to read.
The results made his brow knit tightly.
"Thankfully, her soul... its still inside her vessel, but it is disappearing..."
It was the only piece of good news in this situation.
"Her life force is... almost gone. The only reason she's even still breathing is because of her willpower."
"But even that is fading."
Hestia shook her head violently, tears building in her eyes.
"No... no! She promised! She swore she'd stay alive for at least a year... so why... why is this happening!? Why now!?"
Judas didn't look at her.
He kept pressing his hands against Alfia's chest and cast a few spells.
Lines of magical formula flickered through his vision.
Decay.
Collapse.
A body that had been living long past its time.
"Dammit..."
He muttered under his breath.
"Please... please... do something... Belle... she's going to be devastated. Alfia is the only family she has left... I don't know how she'll be if she wakes up and sees this."
Hestia's voice was paper-thin, her words shaking as if they were barely able to stand on their own.
Her fists trembled against Judas's sleeve.
Judas didn't answer immediately.
His gaze shifted toward Belle... slumped against Ais, completely unconscious from their brutal training session earlier.
Her breathing was calm, her face soft... unaware of the nightmare unfolding beside her.
For a moment, Judas simply watched her.
So small.
So hopeful.
If she woke up to find Alfia like this...
A memory snapped through Judas's mind.
His village was burned and razed to the ground.
Ash choking the sky.
And the charred remains of his parents... unmoving, twisted, wrong... lying in the place where his home used to be.
He remembered the sound he made that day.
He wasn't even sure it could be called a scream.
He just remembered realizing, in one horrifying moment, that he was alone.
And he couldn't help it...
Belle's imagined grief overlapped with his own.
Her face, twisted in despair, merged with the boy in his mind.
Judas drew in a slow breath and closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, all hesitation was gone... replaced by clear, unwavering resolve.
Let the dead rest?
'Screw that.'
'You've beaten me down so many times...'
'Do you really think you can just die without letting me pay you back?'
'Not a chance.'
He knelt beside Alfia and laid his palm gently against her forehead.
Her skin was ice-cold, frighteningly light to the touch... as if even her body was trying to slip away.
"Don't you dare die on us."
He whispered, voice low and steady.
Not like this.
Not today.
At that moment, Hestia felt it... a soft, invisible shift in the air.
A quiet certainty, like the warmth before dawn.
She didn't understand his magic, nor the strange techniques he used.
But her divine intuition... the instinct of a goddess... reacted instantly.
Her trembling eased.
Her breath steadied.
For the first time since Alfia collapsed, Hestia felt something she desperately needed...
Hope.
She didn't know why... but standing beside this boy, watching the unwavering calm in his eyes...
She felt like the situation had not slipped beyond salvation.
...
"Where am I?"
Darkness stretched endlessly in every direction.
No matter which way she looked, the scenery never changed.
"Who am I?"
The wandering soul drifted through the void, unsure why she moved in this direction... only that something compelled her forward, like a fly drawn to a flicker of light.
Then, in the distance, a glow appeared.
A gate.
"Heaven."
The word slipped from her lips before she even thought to speak it.
She had never seen this gate before, yet something deep inside her knew it, as though she had passed through it countless times in lifetimes long forgotten.
Step by step, she moved closer.
Each stride felt heavier than the last, until she finally paused.
Just one more step, and she would enter paradise.
"Sister... I am finally joining you."
The wandering soul didn't know why those words slipped from its lips...
No memories, no face, no past to anchor them... and yet the sentence felt strangely right, like an echo from a life forgotten.
She was about to step through... when a voice rang out.
"Stop!"
The sound froze her in place.
A rift tore open behind her, jagged and pulsating.
From it emerged a boy... no, a young man... his eyes locking onto hers with unyielding focus.
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