Jay's chest rose and fell slowly, his mind still struggling to piece together what had just happened. He could feel the warmth of his own blood drying on his skin, but the pain had dulled.
A voice echoed from the far end of the field. "Sir Reinhardt! Emergency retreat formation!" One of the remaining knights rushed toward the fallen leader. The others quickly followed, their hands forming glowing sigils in the air. Within seconds, a large circle of light expanded beneath their feet.
"Jay, wait!" Shiro warned as he realized what they were doing.
The circle's light flared, and before Jay could take another step, the knights vanished, leaving behind only the sound of wind.
Jay exhaled, lowering his fists. "Teleportation...they're gone."
"Good riddance," Shiro muttered, rubbing his wrists, still sore from the paralyzing spell earlier. "But they'll be back. I doubt they'd forgive that humilliation."
Jay didn't answer. His gaze remained fixed on the faint imprint of Reinhardt's body in the crater with great curiosity.
Later that afternoon, the trio gathered near the outskirts of the battered village. The people, too frightened to approach them, whispered from their doorways. Some looked grateful for being saved from the Empire's wrath; others watched with suspicion, wondering if these outsiders would bring more trouble.
Yumina stretched her arms above her head, her black hair catching the light. "Well, that was fun. But I was thinking...maybe we should move on."
"Move on?" Shiro asked, raising an eyebrow. "Where to?"
"The capital, of course." Yumina turned toward the distant mountains. "If anyone knows how to send us back home, it has to be the King of this country."
Shiro frowned. "You can't be serious. That's the heart of the Empire. After what we did to their knights, we'd be walking straight into a death trap."
"Maybe," she said with a faint smile. "But I'll be fine. It's not that easy to kill me."
"That's not the point!" Shiro snapped, his voice sharper than usual. "I'm not as powerful as you. Besides, you're reckless and unpredictable. And you..." He turned to Jay, "...you nearly died back there. You don't even know how to control your power."
Jay looked down, silent.
Yumina's tone softened slightly. "And what's your plan then? Hide? Run forever?"
Shiro's jaw tightened. "Until I understand my power better, yes. I need to figure out what I can do before I drag anyone else down with me."
There was a pause. Even the wind seemed to still.
Finally, Yumina sighed and crossed her arms. "Fine. Do whatever you want."
"Yeah," Shiro said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I will."
Jay looked between the two, his heart heavy. "You're really leaving?"
Shiro nodded. "For now. I'll find my own path. Maybe when I'm stronger, I'll catch up to you."
Jay didn't know what to say. He wanted to stop him, to tell him they were better together, but no words came out. In the end, he just nodded silently.
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That night, the inn was quiet. Jay sat by the window of his room. Yumina had already gone to bed in the room next door, but he couldn't sleep.
Something was bothering him.
A feeling.
As if unseen eyes were tracing every movement he made.
He stood, his body tensing. Slowly, he turned toward the window and peered into the distance, looking at the faint outline of a tree. Nothing unusual appeared to be there.
Still…
Jay's instincts told him otherwise. For a moment, he thought he saw the glint of metal, a reflection, like the light off an eye. But when he blinked, it was gone.
"…Just my imagination," he muttered.
He exhaled, deciding not to think too much of it. Yet, for reasons he couldn't explain, his feet carried him back toward the battleground from before.
The moon hung high. Jay searched through the debris until something caught his attention, a faint shimmer half-buried in the dirt. He knelt and brushed the soil away, revealing a golden bracelet engraved with strange runes.
It was elegant, too refined to belong to the village folk. Most likely, it had fallen from one of the knights during the chaos.
Jay turned it over in his hand. The metal pulsed faintly, almost alive.
"Guess it's a souvenir, then."
Without thinking much, he slipped it onto his wrist. It felt cold at first, then strangely warm, as if recognizing his touch.
The wind picked up suddenly. For a brief second, he thought he heard a voice, a whisper, soft and distant, carried by the breeze.
He froze, listening.
But there was nothing more.
"…Definitely my imagination."
With a sigh, Jay turned and made his way back to the inn.
He slipped quietly into his room, laid down on the small wooden bed, and stared at the ceiling until sleep took him.
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Far beyond the village, perched atop the same tree Jay had looked at earlier, a man sat silently in the shadows. His cloak made of leaves blended seamlessly with the environment, and his eyes glowed faintly red.
He watched as the inn's lights dimmed one by one.
When the last candle was out, he smirked.
"As I thought," he murmured, his voice low and calm. "That boy has potential."
The man leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
"It would be a waste not to polish such a fine weapon."
His gaze lingered on Jay's window for a long moment, until the clouds moved and swallowed the moon.
Then, as silently as he had appeared, the figure vanished into the night.
And the wind carried nothing but his faint laughter.