Rythian Marlowe screamed as the winds swept him up, convulsing as more crackling lightning struck his skin. The Hong Clan girl — his jade slip told him her name was Mai — had already escaped through the void, but as soon as the disciples had left, the aftermath of the Saint’s death had redoubled. Once more, he tried to tear a hole in the fabric of the world, but dense storms blocked him, trapping him within this heavens-damned wasteland. An especially strong gust of wind slammed into him, and even with all his mana channeling through his body, he coughed up blood.

If this storm was doing so much damage to him, who had a natural resistance to it, how much would it have done to a normal Saint? He conjured more stone to protect himself, but it instantly crumbled under the pressure of the air. More lightning flashed, and a raging hurricane slowly made its way towards him, spelling out certain death.

Fear climbed its way up his throat. Even doing everything he could to increase his weight, he was being thrown around like a ragdoll! As soon as that hurricane got to him, he wouldn’t be able to resist at all. This would be the end of him, if he couldn’t do something —

The winds relented, and he fell to the ground with a relieved sigh. His body crashed face-first into the hard cracked stone, but his Saint’s body barely even felt it as he flipped upright.

The prodigy had returned. In one hand, he dragged his fellow apprentice along, who was restrained in golden chains. In the other, he held the flying sword.

The Saint raised an eyebrow. “Where’s her sword?”

That blade was a Saint-level treasure, and judging by the aftermath of her death, her master had been stronger than any Saint on this world. If he could get his hands on it…

“Gone.” The girl laughed, spitting at his feet. “Disappeared in a flash of lightning.”

His aura flared. “Where. Is. It?”

Rynn bowed before him, shaking his head. “I apologise, honored Saint. I saw it occur, and I know of no such tricks she can pull. However, my former master could have set something up prior to her death.”

His eye twitched, but he shook himself. The storms seemed to part for the apprentices — as much as it pained him to leave such a treasure out, he’d simply come back later. Survival was crucial, and he doubted anyone would survive long enough in here to search for it.

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Plus, he already had a prize. He reached into his bag of holding, calling the lost sword’s twin...

His eyes widened, and he slammed his foot into the ground, causing a spiderweb of cracks to spread from the point of impact. “That bitch!”

***

Aer drifted along the winds, her consciousness scattered throughout countless different worlds. Right now, she was barely hanging on to reality. Her core was shattered beyond repair, her body disintegrated, and her soul wrenched apart piece by piece by the overwhelming power of her mana.

But there was a reason Saints were dubbed immortal.

With a feat of will similar to the transition to the transition to the Second Circle, she gathered herself onto one world, wrapping around Asura like a mother caressing her child. She had never had any children — she and her husband had both been far too busy to take care of any — and the Saints of her world had made sure they never would. Still, as she watched Seira struggle to escape her golden shackles, as she witnessed Kiro escape death by the barest sliver, she couldn’t help but think that this was how a heartbroken mother would feel, watching her children suffer unjustly.

Even moreso because it was another of her children causing the suffering.

When she reformed her body, no matter how weak, she would weep for them. She would shed all the motherly tears that she had, for their own mother certainly wouldn’t. And when she was done, she would weep some more. For being too weak to protect them. For not telling them what they should have known. For failing to nip their torments at the bud.

Still, she had left them all that they needed to grow. Their foundations were as solid as rock, and their lives preserved.

Well, mostly preserved. With whatever power remained with her, she gently nudged a stray soul on the verge of dissipating, letting it drift over to the edge of civilization.

Now, her job was done. She wrapped her senses around them one last time, letting her consciousness spread back into the winds.

It was time she regained her former power.

***

Darkness. That was all he knew as he drifted along, even his thoughts scattering as soon as they formed. Darkness, and perhaps the slightest bit of pain. Still, if there really was pain, he was too numb to feel it. Really, he couldn’t feel anything…

The tiniest sparkle flashed in the distance, and he concentrated on it, trying as hard as he could to make something of it. What was it? Or was it anything at all...

Light!

Suddenly, blinding light bloomed in his vision, and pain — real, searing pain — coursed through his body. Wait, he had a body? And he had thoughts!

I love you, my dear disciple, and I’ll be waiting for you at the top.

The light dimmed, and feeling seeped back in his limbs. Hard wood pressed on his back, and a pair of hands was pressed on his dantian, channeling… something into his core.

The hands lifted, and he cracked open an eye. What had happened? Had he really…

A woman in bright green robes leaned over him, smiling. “Welcome back to the world of the living!”