[Location: Verm Plains – Noon – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

Drifter stared sharply ahead, his eyes locked on the approaching gray silhouettes. Heavy footsteps echoed louder with every second as the distance closed. In an instant, dozens of blue sigils flared in the air, forming floating blades of energy in precise formation, poised to strike.

He noticed the Graklings and Graklors suddenly spread out, moving to encircle them.

"Damn it… They're trying to surround us," he muttered, his voice tense.

With a swift motion, Drifter commanded the blue swords to launch at incredible speed toward the enemies. Nadia and Alma quickly joined in, releasing fiery projectiles and golden-green crystalline shards. Some creatures fell, but their resolve remained unshaken. The Grakling charged, their claws wrapped in black energy slashing ferociously.

Drifter’s sharp gaze caught the enemy formation tightening, forming a complete circle around them. One by one, Graklor stepped forward, wielding black weapons—swords, axes, and spears—delivering heavy blows to their defenses.

Nadia summoned barriers of stone to block the attacks, but a massive Graklor axe shattered her defenses effortlessly. On the other side, Alma raised her hands high, conjuring a tornado of fire that tore through the advancing creatures.

Meanwhile, Drifter’s blue swords darted toward the Graklor with blinding speed. Some creatures deflected the attacks with their weapons, but many fell, their bodies hitting the ground with heavy thuds.

Amidst the chaos, a deep growl echoed. Heavy footsteps closed in rapidly. Nadia quickly summoned a sturdier stone wall, but the enormous Grakthor emerged, its massive tusks glowing with dark energy. With terrifying speed, it rammed the barrier, shattering it to rubble in an instant.

Drifter, Nadia, and Alma leaped aside just in time to avoid the charging beast. The massive Grakthor plowed through its own forces, sending Grakling flying through the air.

Recovering quickly, Drifter activated three glowing blue sigils that spun rapidly around him. With his left hand, he unleashed a barrage of Exalt Bolts, sending additional bolts from the rotating Exalt Storm, streams of blue energy ripping through the Graklings and Graklors, taking them down one by one. However, when the attacks hit the Grakthor, the beast barely flinched.

The remaining Graklors pressed forward. Drifter stepped into their path, his right hand gripping Exaltare tightly. With calculated precision, he cut through the creatures that came too close. As the Grakthor advanced again, Drifter directed his floating blue swords as decoys, forcing the massive beast to change direction.

With skillful maneuvering, Drifter made the Grakthor turn sharply, its enormous frame colliding with nearby Graklings and Graklors, sending them flying and buying his team precious moments to regroup.

His eyes scanned the battlefield. Waves of enemies stretched endlessly, the clash of blue swords against black armor and weapons filled the air. Behind him, he could hear Nadia and Alma breathing heavily, their shoulders rising and falling rapidly. Sweat mixed with rain dripped from their faces, their trembling hands struggling to keep up the fight.

Drifter, drenched in sweat and rain, gasped for breath. With a firm motion, he teleported to a grassy hill nearby, raising his left hand high into the stormy sky. His voice boomed with commanding power:

"Exalted Evocata!"

As the words left his lips, brilliant blue light exploded in the air, forming a massive magical circle. Its energy spiraled wildly, shaking the ground beneath it. Colossal blades of pure energy emerged, glowing fiercely, hovering like an unstoppable force of destruction.

With a sweeping motion, Drifter unleashed the energy blades, their blinding speed slicing through the air. Each impact sent ripples outward, a resonating boom shaking the battlefield as a circular shockwave shattered into sharp shards, obliterating the horde instantly. The shards burst apart with a sharp crack, releasing smaller glowing blades that whistled through the air, striking the remaining enemies with deadly precision.

The Graklings fell instantly, unable to resist the attack. Some Graklors raised shields and weapons, deflecting a few strikes, but the blades were too many, cutting them down one by one. The massive Grakthors held briefly before their defenses gave way. With a final blow, the beasts collapsed, their heavy bodies hitting the ground.

As the magic reached its peak, Drifter raised his hand once more. The giant magical circle above flared brilliantly, its radiant glow illuminating the battlefield. With a commanding motion, the circle unleashed a devastating wave of blue energy, obliterating the remaining hordes. The blast swept across the Verm Plains, carving craters and deep fissures into the earth, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.

Drifter knelt, his breath ragged and shallow. His trembling hands fell to his sides as Exaltare and his armor disintegrated into blue particles, fading into the stormy air. He looked out at the battlefield, now eerily silent, the rain soaking the shattered ground around him.

He slowly rose to his feet and turned toward Nadia and Alma. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, their bodies drenched by the relentless rain. Despite the exhaustion etched on their faces, their eyes met, silently exchanging a shared relief amidst the weariness.

A sharp pain jolted Drifter, freezing him in place. Slowly, instinctively, he turned his head. His eyes fell to his left side, where blood poured from a deep wound, staining his black suit and mixing with the rain pooling beneath him.

In his peripheral vision, a figure stepped forward. Her wild pink-and-dark blue hair clung to her face, and her sharp smile cut through the storm like a blade. Her glowing eyes burned with madness as she raised a dark blade, blue flames licking its edges.

image [https://i.ibb.co.com/F6WnQW9/01-23.jpg]

Drifter tried to move, but his body refused to obey. His vision blurred, the world around him spinning out of focus. His hand trembled, lifeless and beyond his control.

"What… is happening?" The thought flickered faintly in his mind before everything faded into darkness.

Through the storm, a mocking laugh pierced the air, cutting through the rain with chilling clarity.

Alma turned sharply, her eyes widening in horror as she spotted Drifter falling to his knees. Her breath caught, and for a moment, she froze before a scream tore through her throat.

"No!" Her voice echoed, overpowering the sound of the storm.

Drifter fell to his knees, his body trembling violently. Blood flowed freely, pooling on the ground beneath him, mixing with the rain-soaked earth. His face grew pale, his breaths short and labored, as though battling against the remnants of his fading strength.

Alma and Nadia reacted instantly. A brilliant red light ignited in Alma’s hands as a barrage of Exalt Missiles streaked through the rain, their pink glow hissing through the air before exploding at the ground where the mysterious girl stood. Simultaneously, Nadia, with a swift movement, slammed her hands against the ground. Seismic Pulse erupted outward, sending rippling waves of golden energy forward. The girl leaped back with incredible agility, her long blue-pink hair swirling like living smoke. Her sadistic smile remained fixed, unfazed by their combined assault.

Alma and Nadia rushed to Drifter’s side. Trembling, Alma carefully lifted his weakened body. A pink magical circle began to form beneath him, its light pulsating weakly as if resisting the despair surrounding them. Despite pouring all her energy into Exalt Healing, Alma struggled to close Drifter’s wounds. The injuries were too severe, leaving the healing magic seemingly powerless.

Meanwhile, Nadia, momentarily frozen in shock, fell to her knees beside Drifter. Desperation marked her movements as she placed her hands over his wounds, summoning Healing Earth. A radiant green circle materialized beneath them, inscribed with glowing runes that pulsed in harmony with the earth. Golden threads of light rose from the ground, enveloping Drifter’s body with gentle warmth.

Their combined magic began to take effect. Drifter’s wounds started to close, and the bleeding subsided, though his body remained frail.

Tears streamed down Nadia’s cheeks, though she tried to hold them back.

"Please… don’t go," she whispered hoarsely, her voice breaking with suppressed sobs. Her trembling hand touched Drifter’s forehead, searching desperately for any sign of life. His eyes, however, remained tightly shut, offering no response and deepening the suffocating tension between them.

Mara stepped forward, her black lace dress trailing behind her like dark mist, exuding an eerie presence that froze the moment in place. Alma and Nadia stiffened, fear rendering them silent.

"Die…" Mara’s voice was cold, filled with seething hatred as her piercing gaze fixated on Drifter, lying helpless on the ground.

She moved with blinding speed, Chereveilim in her hand—a black dagger engulfed in blue flames—aimed directly at Alma. Before the blade could strike, however, Alma’s pink sigils flared, creating an energy field that stopped Mara’s assault mid-air.

The two locked eyes. The hatred in Mara’s gaze faltered. Her face softened, her sharp expression shifting to confusion. She hesitated, stepping back as if something within her wavered.

"Sister?" Mara’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, a stark contrast to her earlier fury. It was a voice that carried a strange familiarity, as though echoing from a distant past.

Alma froze, her lips parted but unable to form words. Fear gripped her chest, but confusion overpowered it. She wanted to speak, but the words refused to come.

Nadia, who had been focusing on stabilizing Drifter, turned her head, narrowing her eyes. The question spilled out before she could stop it:

"Sister? Who is she?"

Mara turned to Alma with a longing expression, like someone who had been waiting for years. Without warning, she lunged forward and embraced Alma tightly. Alma’s body stiffened, her face a mixture of shock and anxiety. Her fingers clenched but lacked the strength to push Mara away.

"I missed you so much, Sister… it’s been too long," Mara whispered, her words dripping with emotion. There was an undeniable depth to her voice, but also a lingering confusion.

At last, Alma found her voice, though it was weak and strained.

"Mara?"

Nadia, watching the scene unfold, hurried to Alma’s side, her concern breaking the uneasy tension.

"Alma, are you okay?"

The moment Nadia spoke, Mara spun toward her, her expression shifting to one of pure rage. Her eyes gleamed with menace, like a predator ready to attack.

"Still following those hypocrites, pretending to care about justice... How quaint."

“… Did you forget what they and our dear Father did to us?"

Her voice thundered with unrestrained anger, each word a blade meant to wound.

She turned back to Alma, her tone softening abruptly.

"Come with me, Sister. Mother is waiting for you."

Alma frowned, her face darkening. Old wounds resurfaced, yet she stood her ground despite her exhaustion. Her breathing hitched briefly before she replied, her voice sharp:

"Enough, Mara… Just leave."

Lowering her arms, Alma refused to return Mara’s embrace. Their connection broke.

"Don’t worry, Sister… I’ll save you," Mara said with a chilling smile, her tone as cold as the rain surrounding them. Before Alma could respond, Mara moved with deadly precision, aiming directly for Nadia.

Chereveilim, cloaked in dark blue flames, slashed through the air like lightning toward Nadia. But Nadia reacted quickly, leaving Drifter’s side. The brown sigil in her hand glowed brightly as she stomped her foot, summoning a towering earth wall that rose to shield her. The dagger struck the barrier, its flames scorching the surface and leaving glowing cracks.

In an instant, Mara’s form dissipated into blue embers—Cerulevia Blink. She reappeared beside Drifter, still lying vulnerable on the ground.

Without hesitation, Alma’s pink sigils flared again. She launched a volley of Exalt Missiles, their glowing trails cutting through the rain. Mara, however, deflected them with ease, her movements fluid as Chereveilim clashed against the incoming magic. Sparks of dark energy erupted as dagger met spell.

"Stop, Mara! Don’t!" Alma shouted, her voice breaking, hoarse with emotion. Her breath was heavy, but her eyes never left Mara, who stood with cold composure beside her.

"Please, don’t kill him… I… I’ll go with you."

Hearing those words, Mara’s smile widened, but there was a subtle shift in her expression. Without another word, she reached for Alma’s hand and gripped it tightly. With an almost playful step, she began walking away, as though nothing else mattered.

Alma cast a worried glance at Nadia, her eyes speaking volumes where words failed. Nadia gave a hesitant nod, her lips pressed tightly together. Without further hesitation, Mara led Alma away into the storm.

Nadia froze in place, her gaze fixated on Drifter, lying weak and motionless, his shallow breaths barely audible. Her trembling hands reached to check his faint pulse. In the distance, Alma’s figure disappeared into the misty rain, following Mara’s ominous path.

Behind her glasses, fogged and wet from the rain, Nadia’s brown eyes filled with tears. Her lips quivered as she bit them hard, almost drawing blood. Her body leaned forward slightly, then stopped again, consumed by doubt. Her breathing was shallow and shaky before she finally inhaled deeply, her chest heaving under an invisible weight.

"I’m sorry, Drifter… but Alma is in danger."

With a determined motion, Nadia straightened, her eyes fixed on the fading trail Alma had left behind. Without looking back, she strode forward, her pace quickening as she pushed through the fear constricting her chest.

As she closed the distance, a sudden burst of blue flames erupted in front of her, their blinding brilliance cutting through the heavy downpour. In an instant, Mara appeared, her measured steps carrying an air of menace. With a swift flick of her wrist, the glowing blue dagger in her hand shot forward, its deadly trajectory aimed directly at Nadia.

Nadia’s eyes widened as her reflexes kicked in. She raised her arm, and a brown light pulsed faintly from her skin—her natural Evocyte Barrier activating just in time to block the attack.

Mara chuckled, her voice sharp and mocking, slicing through the rain like a whip.

"Well, well, look who’s here. Lost, Glasses? Or are you just here to die?" she sneered, her lips curling into a smug, crooked grin. Her eyes glinted with predatory delight as they locked onto Nadia, savoring every ounce of her struggle.

Far ahead, Alma saw it all unfold. Her jaw tightened, and she raised her hands, a glowing red sigil forming in the air. From the sigil, fiery energy began to gather, forming a crackling orb of light. Its heat radiated through the rain, defying the storm as the orb grew larger, its brightness cutting through the darkness.

With a swift gesture, Alma released the fireball. It hurtled forward, slicing through the rain and exploding near Mara in a fiery burst. The shockwave burned the wet ground, sending hissing steam into the air.

But Mara moved effortlessly, her steps light and deliberate, weaving through the flames like a shadow in the storm. The fire shattered harmlessly into shards of stone, scattering at her feet without leaving a mark.

"Big Sister, really? Trying to kill your adorable little sibling?" she mocked, her voice dripping with venomous amusement. Her sharp eyes glinted with malice, and a sly, crooked smile danced on her lips, daring Alma to try again.

Alma stepped forward, rain streaming down her face, her fiery gaze fixed on Mara.

"Enough, Mara! Stop this madness—stop killing like it means nothing!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the storm with raw intensity.

Mara let out a soft chuckle, her tone dripping with indifference.

"Not my problem, is it? They brought it on themselves," she said casually, as if the chaos around her was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Without warning, Mara shifted her Chereveilim, the blade elongating into a massive scythe glowing with ominous blue fire. She swung it swiftly toward Nadia, forcing her to stomp the ground. Stone pillars erupted from the wet earth, forming a makeshift barrier. Nadia’s hands shook as she struggled to channel her magic, her wet and trembling fingers barely holding steady.

The scythe tore through the pillars with savage precision, each swing reducing them to crumbling shards that scattered like dust in the rain.

“See you in the afterlife,” Mara sneered, her voice icy and sharp, the corners of her mouth curling into a wicked grin.

Alma held her ground, fire igniting in her hands and spiraling into a raging Firestorm. Tornadoes of flame tore through the air, leaving trails of destruction in their wake. Exalt Missiles followed, glowing brightly as they shot through the storm, zeroing in on Mara. Each clash between Alma’s magic and Mara’s blue flames erupted in thunderous explosions, lighting up the battlefield in bursts of heat and chaos.

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“Go, Nadia… I’ll hold her off!” Alma shouted, her voice raw but firm, unyielding in the face of the storm.

Nadia sprinted toward the Translocator at the hilltop, her steps slipping in the muddy ground as rain blurred her vision. Behind her, Mara closed the distance, relentless.

Cerulevia Edge erupted in the air as Mara swung her scythe, spinning rapidly and unleashing a crescent wave of blazing blue fire. The attack’s radius widened as it surged forward. Nadia leaped to the side, but the edge of the blast still managed to catch her.

Her natural shield shattered, and she fell hard into the mud. Blood trickled from her arm as her glasses slipped off, landing in a puddle.

Mara approached with measured steps, her smile filled with satisfaction. She crushed the glasses beneath her heel, the shards scattering in the rain. Her eyes shifted forward, locking onto Alma, who was rushing toward them, panic etched on her face.

Mara raised both hands, dark blue flames swirling around her fingers. With a swift motion, the flames coalesced into sharp, snaking Cerulevia Chains, which lashed out, forming a deadly web aimed at Alma and Nadia. The rain hissed as the fiery chains closed in, each second tightening their grip.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the rain, growing louder as shadowy figures emerged—Graklings and Graklors, their gray forms with glowing red eyes advancing like an unstoppable wave.

Mara’s laughter cut through the storm, sharp and cold, her eyes locking onto Nadia, pinned beneath the blazing chains.

“Well, looks like you’re out of moves.” Her voice dripped with mockery, a cruel grin curling her lips.

Nadia lay motionless, her body trembling as the last remnants of her shield disintegrated. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her mind spiraling.

“I’m sorry, Alma… this is as far as I go,” she thought, the rain mingling with the silent tears streaking down her face.

Nearby, Alma thrashed desperately, fighting against the chains that bound her. Her struggles weakened, her gaze filled with despair as she watched Mara approach, the massive blue-flamed scythe raised high.

The Grakling and Graklor circled around them, their glowing red eyes watching silently, unmoving.

Suddenly, glowing blue swords appeared in the air, forming a precise formation that spun with deadly speed. In an instant, the blades shot forward, cutting down the surrounding Grakling and Graklor, freeing Nadia and Alma from the fiery chains that bound them.

A few swords pursued Mara, who swung her scythe in rapid arcs to deflect the attacks. The mounting pressure began to crack her composed demeanor, her face twisting with anger. She turned sharply, her piercing gaze directed toward the distance.

Far off, under the shadow of a tree, Drifter stood without his weapons or armor. His black suit was torn at the left side, where faint traces of blood still lingered. His breaths were shallow, his shoulders rising and falling with exhaustion.

Alma hurried to Nadia, slipping an arm under her shoulder to help her up.

"Come on, we’re not done yet!" she urged, her voice raw but unwavering.

"Thank you, Alma," Nadia murmured softly, her voice barely audible, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Mara shifted her piercing gaze to the circling Grakling and Graklor. With a sharp, commanding motion of her hand, she bellowed,

"Kill them all!" Her voice shook with seething rage, cutting through the storm like a blade.

The horde charged, their energy claws glowing with deadly brilliance. The hum of Evocyte-powered weapons filled the air, creating an oppressive atmosphere.

Exhausted, Alma could barely react. A Grakling clawed at her, leaving a deep gash in her side. Blood poured freely, soaking her clothes and mixing with the rain.

Her trembling hands called forth Exalt Healing, faint pink light flickering weakly over her wounds. But the bleeding didn’t stop, and her strength drained with every passing moment.

"Help… someone… please…" she whispered, her voice shaky and desperate, as her body faltered, swaying dangerously.

Nadia spun around sharply.

"ALMA! Stay with me!" she shouted, her eyes widening in panic at the sight of blood soaking her friend.

Acting quickly, Nadia raised her hand, calling forth pillars of stone that erupted from the ground, smashing into several nearby Grakling. She then summoned Stoneflower Spire, conjuring a massive stone pillar adorned with magical flowers that released healing spores. The spores enveloped Alma, but her wounds remained open.

Desperately, Nadia formed a wall of stone to block the advancing Grakling and Graklor, her hands trembling with the effort.

Suddenly, a piercing shout tore through the air.

"You idiots! That’s my sister! How dare you!" Mara’s voice roared like a crack of thunder, her fury palpable.

With a swift motion, Mara raised her hand. A dark blue sigil burned brightly.

Cerulevia Pyre erupted from her palm, blue flames spreading in a massive arc. The fire engulfed the Grakling and Graklor, their bodies disintegrating into ash within moments. Their screams echoed briefly before vanishing into the storm.

Nadia knelt beside Alma, her trembling hands glowing with green energy as she summoned Healing Earth. The gentle flow of magic touched Alma’s pale body, but her wounds refused to close. Her breathing was faint, barely audible, and the blood continued to flow.

"Take my hand… let’s go…" Drifter whispered, his voice nearly lost in the relentless rain.

Without hesitation, Nadia hoisted Alma onto her shoulder, her friend’s limp body feeling heavier with every step. Tears mixed with the rain as she gripped Drifter’s hand. He immediately activated Exalt Shift.

The first teleportation went smoothly, but Drifter’s breaths grew more labored. After the second shift, his shoulders sagged, and his face turned pale. By the third, the blue light surrounding them dimmed. His body barely moved, shifting only slightly from the previous spot before collapsing to his knees.

His head bowed, and a droplet of crimson fell onto the wet ground before a fresh burst of blood spilled from his lips, blending with the rain.

With trembling hands, Drifter activated Healing Surge, a faint blue glow emanating from his palms. When Nadia moved to assist, he raised a hand, signaling her to stop.

"Run! Now! Get Alma out of here!" he commanded, his voice firm despite the strain evident in his failing body.

Torn with hesitation, Nadia gave him one last glance before turning, clutching Alma tightly and running into the storm.

Breathing heavily, Drifter steadied himself. In front of him, the Grakling horde advanced, their footsteps a rhythmic drumbeat that echoed through the rain-soaked battlefield.

His face hardened, his jaw tightening.

"Damn it… always too late," he thought, his fists tightening at his sides.

He attempted to summon a single energy blade or fire an Exalt Bolt, but his weakened body failed him. Forced to rely on his surroundings, he moved nimbly, dodging the claws of the Grakling. Using Evocyte Link, blue energy ropes, he pulled trees down as barriers and hurled nearby rocks with telekinesis, disrupting the enemy’s formation.

The attacks struck several Grakling, but their natural black barriers absorbed much of the damage. Some broke through and sprinted after Nadia. Drifter’s gaze flicked to the fleeing enemies, doubt flickering across his face, but he pressed on.

From the distance, the hulking forms of the Graklor loomed, their muscular bodies advancing with ominous intent. His throat tightened as he swallowed hard.

Suddenly, crimson projectiles pierced the storm, slamming into the Grakling with brutal precision. The creatures were sent sprawling to the ground.

Drifter turned sharply, narrowing his eyes. Through the rain, Jaxon Virelli emerged, his black glasses and cowboy hat framing his face. In his hands, the Crossfire Emberstorm—twin bow guns—still smoked from the recent shots. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but his gaze remained sharp and serious.

Drifter gave a small nod, though the tension in his jaw didn’t ease.

Meanwhile, the relentless rain poured down, drenching Nadia as she trudged forward. The muddy ground clung to her boots, turning every step into a battle. Alma, unconscious on her shoulder, felt heavier with each passing moment, but Nadia pressed on, ignoring everything else. Her focus was fixed solely on the Translocator ahead.

Footsteps thundered behind her, growing closer. A shadow burst from the side, claws flashing in the dim light. Pain ripped through her arm as the Grakling’s strike tore into her. She staggered but bit back the cry rising in her throat. Alma’s weight shifted, and she gripped tighter, steadying her balance.

Her trembling hand struck the ground, the rain-soaked earth trembling beneath her touch. A jagged wall of stone erupted, cutting off the pursuers. The impact barely held before cracking, the relentless force of the attackers reducing it to rubble. Nadia’s body wavered. She tried again, pressing harder into the ground, but the earth only groaned and shifted weakly. Blood streaked down her nose and lips, the strain pulling at her from the inside.

She forced her legs straight, her chest heaving. With one final push, the ground split violently, a towering wall of stone surging upward. It held steady, the pounding of claws muffled behind it. Alma’s body sagged against her, each shallow breath brushing against Nadia’s neck. Her own vision blurred, a stinging heat trailing from her eyes as crimson streaks mixed with the rain.

Her head lifted. Above the downpour, a flash of brilliant blue illuminated the hilltop. A glowing sigil cut through the storm, stark against the darkness. Nadia inhaled sharply, her legs trembling but moving forward.

Standing at its center, her dark hair whipping in the wind, was Luna Sabriel.

"Clear out. Now!" Luna’s commanding voice pierced through the storm.

The air shimmered with ice-blue sigils, spinning like a living constellation around her. She raised her hands high, ancient words flowing from her lips:

"Glacialis Tempestus."

A burst of blue light erupted from the sigils, unleashing thousands of concentrated ice beams that hovered briefly before surging forward with deadly precision. The beams tore through the Grakling and Graklor, shattering their defenses effortlessly.

The gray horde became a frozen spectacle. The Graklings and Graklors froze mid-motion—a Grakling’s claws, just inches from striking Nadia, stopped cold. A delicate chime echoed as faint cracks appeared, and their frozen forms shattered into glittering shards of ice that rained onto the battlefield.

Luna lowered her hands slowly. The ice sigils faded into soft snowflakes, drifting lazily in the air. Her gaze swept across the frozen field, where every blade of grass sparkled like glass encased in frost.Walking forward with measured steps, Luna approached Nadia and Alma, her cold expression softening slightly upon seeing them.

"You’ve done your best. Now rest," she said firmly, her tone still carrying a rare gentleness.

Nadia shivered, her body trembling on the verge of collapse, but she remained upright.

"Not yet… Alma still needs…" she whispered faintly, her words barely audible.

From the right, Friedrich appeared, his glowing armor casting a gentle light over the battlefield.

Friedrich knelt beside Alma, his hands trembling as he touched her chest.

"Hold on, Alma. Please, just hold on!" he urged, yellow energy flowing from his hands, desperately trying to revive the faint spark of life left in her.

Finally, Nadia collapsed, her body succumbing to exhaustion. Her vision blurred, but her gaze stayed locked on Alma. In the surrounding darkness, faint murmurs of spells and whispered hopes echoed, growing distant before all went silent.

Drifter trudged forward alongside Jaxon, his steps unsteady, his body still weighed down by fatigue. His eyes met Luna’s, who responded with a subtle nod, her expression as cold and unwavering as ever.

Without a word, Drifter nodded at Friedrich, who carefully bent down to lift Alma’s frail body. Luna raised her hand gently, using telekinesis to lift Nadia into the air with delicate precision. As a group, they began their march toward the Translocator, their pace steady but urgent.

Midway, Drifter glanced over his shoulder. The torrential rain poured over the battlefield, scattering shards of ice and stone, but the girl with the pink and blue hair—the one who had attacked them—was gone. All that remained was a desolate field, the silence broken only by the relentless drumming of the rain.

[Location: Nethia Hospital – City of Nethia – Afternoon – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

Rain hammered against the windows outside, its muffled roar echoing faintly through the quiet hallway. Drifter stood in front of the hospital room door, his posture stiff, his gaze vacant, as though burdened by something unseen.

Jaxon approached quietly, his footsteps barely audible.

“Not planning to get those injuries checked?” he asked, his tone light, though his dark glasses lingered on Drifter's wounds.

"No, thank you," Drifter replied tersely, his tone flat.

Jaxon gave a small nod, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Well… glad you all made it out okay."

The door creaked open slowly. Luna stepped out, her movements deliberate. Her usual cold demeanor remained, though a hint of softness flickered across her face.

"How are they?" Drifter asked, his voice hoarse, almost drowned out by the rain outside.

"They’re… stable. For now," Luna answered evenly, her eyes steady.

Without further exchange, Drifter and Jaxon entered the room. Drifter lowered his head, standing silently by the beds of Alma, Friedrich, and Nadia. His jaw tightened, his gaze heavy.

"I’m sorry… I underestimated them," he murmured, his voice low, barely a whisper.

From the corner, Friedrich watched silently, his expression calm but tinged with warmth.

“You all did your best. Everyone survived—that’s what matters,” he said, his voice steady yet deeply reassuring.

On her bed, Alma Rosenthal lay motionless, her face pale and drawn. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, and though she tried to hide it, pain flickered in her weary eyes.

“It’s okay, Drifter… what matters is that we’re still alive,” she whispered, her voice fragile but carrying a quiet strength.

Her gaze lowered as her fingers gripped the edge of her blanket tightly.

“If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I was the one who pushed for the mission. I forced us to face them… alone.”

From the adjacent bed, Nadia, her face etched with exhaustion, tried to speak. Her lips parted, but her voice trembled under the weight of her guilt.

“I should’ve… I mean…” she started, faltering as the words caught in her throat. Finally, she fell silent, the burden of unspoken regret clouding her expression.

Alma clutched the blanket tightly, her knuckles white as she tried to push herself upright. Her shoulders trembled before she slumped back against the bed, each breath short and strained. Pain rippled through her, written in every movement. She squeezed her eyes shut, her face twisting as she fought to conceal the agony she could no longer contain.

Friedrich stepped closer, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.

"That’s enough, Alma," he said, his deep voice calm and grounding.

Her chest heaved as her defenses crumbled. Tears welled in her eyes before spilling over, tracing silent trails down her face. The quiet sobs broke the stillness, mingling with the steady rhythm of rain outside.

On the bed beside her, Nadia turned her head slowly, her tired eyes fixed on Alma. She remained silent, her hand half-lifting before trembling and dropping weakly to her side. Her lips moved as if to speak, but no sound came. Instead, her gaze, filled with exhaustion and unspoken words, conveyed everything she couldn’t say.

By the doorway, Drifter stood rigid, his figure upright, though his shoulders sagged slightly. His eyes scanned the room, absorbing the scene with a distant expression. Each breath felt heavy, like a reminder of the guilt weighing on him.

Beside him, Jaxon stepped away without a word, raising a hand in a casual wave before disappearing down the hallway.

Drifter clenched his fists at his sides, his eyes dark and introspective. Within him, a silent promise etched itself into his heart.

"This won’t happen again," he thought, his breath steadying as unshakable resolve took hold.

[Location: Nethia Hospital – Alma & Nadia’s Room – Evening – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

The soft chime of Friedrich’s Lumina Core broke the heavy silence. Its dim light pulsed faintly, drawing his attention. His gaze shifted to the screen, where the name Headmaster Gideon briefly flickered before he let out a long breath. His fingers moved, pressing a button on the device.

The air shimmered in front of him, fragments of energy forming a holographic projection. Gideon appeared, standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest. His sharp gaze carried an air of scrutiny.

"Fred, how are they?"

For a moment, Friedrich hesitated. His eyes drifted to the faint silhouettes of Alma and Nadia lying in their medical beds. His throat tightened. Though his voice remained steady, a tremble lingered at its edges.

"They’re stable. Thank you for covering for me, Gideon..."

A faint smirk softened Gideon’s stern demeanor, his tone easing into familiarity.

"Don’t sweat it. Though, I should start billing you for overtime."

A weary chuckle escaped Friedrich, a brief release of the weight on his chest. He ran a hand over his neck, exhaustion momentarily breaking through his usually composed exterior.

"I owe you more than just thanks, Gideon. I promise, next time—it’s my turn to take over whenever you need."

The corners of Gideon’s lips twitched upward slightly. He leaned forward, his gaze softening.

"Forget promises. Just take care of Alma, will you? She needs you more than the academy right now. And... I’m glad she’s okay."

The projection faded, leaving the room in silence once more. Friedrich stood still, his eyes fixed on the empty space where Gideon had been. The gentle hum of the Lumina Core filled the air, its steady rhythm a quiet reminder of unseen burdens.

"Dad… I’m sorry," Alma’s voice broke the silence, soft yet trembling, from her bed.

Friedrich turned quickly, his gaze locking onto hers. He gave a small nod, but before he could respond, Alma continued.

"... she’s... back."

Her voice wavered, laced with unease.

Friedrich stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently clasp Alma’s cold fingers. No words came, only the warmth of his touch providing comfort in the chilled room.

"Don’t worry, Alma. We’ll protect you," he said, his tone firm yet calming.

Alma looked up at him, her eyes glistening.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Friedrich pulled her into a firm yet gentle embrace, his body shielding her from unseen fears.

Across the room, Nadia glanced over from her bed, her expression curious but silent.

[Location: Nethia Hospital – Alma & Nadia’s Room – Evening – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

The rain drummed softly against the windows, its rhythmic sound faint but persistent. Alma lay motionless in her bed, her breathing steady, her face pale but peaceful in sleep. On the other side, Nadia sat still on her own bed, her eyes fixed on the floor, her body tense.

Friedrich entered the room quietly, his gaze falling on Nadia, who remained awake.

"You’re not sleeping? Thinking about your parents?" he asked, his voice gentle but concerned.

Nadia shook her head slowly, her eyes still trained on the shadow of her reflection on the floor.

"No..." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Friedrich stepped closer, standing by her side.

"Thank you, Nadia... Because of you, Alma is safe," he said, his expression filled with gratitude.

Nadia shook her head quickly, her hands clenching on her lap.

"No, sir... I didn’t do anything. I just ran," she said, her voice trembling.

Friedrich took a deep breath, his gaze steady on Nadia’s hunched figure.

"That’s not true, Nadia. Just being there for her… means more than you know," he said firmly, his tone warm.

He moved to a chair beside her bed, sitting down slowly. His gaze shifted to the window, where the rain continued to streak the glass.

"The truth is, Alma’s been sick for a long time," he said, his voice lowering, almost as if sharing a secret burden.

Nadia turned her head, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"What? But she always seemed fine," her voice cracked with surprise.

Friedrich nodded slightly, his eyes dropping to the floor before meeting Nadia’s again.

"She hid it well. But her condition worsened, enough to require treatment before," he explained softly, the weight in his tone undeniable.

Nadia sat in silence. Her eyes glistened, her lips slightly parted, yet no words escaped.

Friedrich smiled faintly, though his eyes betrayed a deep sadness.

"I’m truly grateful you’ve been by her side, Nadia... Thank you," he said sincerely, his voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the chill of the rain outside.

Nadia didn’t respond, only nodding slowly as silent tears streamed down her face. Her hands clenched tightly at her sides, as if trying to hold back the storm of emotions within her

[Location: Verm Evocaier Academy - Residential Zone - Night]

Rain poured relentlessly, puddles forming along the dimly lit corridors of the academy, their surfaces reflecting the flickering glow of faint streetlights. Drifter moved quickly, his black suit heavy with rainwater as droplets slid off with each step. The sound of his footsteps echoed against the slick crystal floor.

The shadows cast by the streetlights danced along the walls, forming fleeting silhouettes. His gaze remained unfocused, his mind clouded. Mara’s image lingered—her wild hair, piercing eyes, and her mastery over the untamable Grakling and Graklor.

His pace slowed, his shoulders sagging slightly. His jaw tightened as his thoughts churned. His head bowed, yet his eyes stayed open, fixed on the ground with a vacant stare.

"They’re preparing for war."

A crack of thunder split the sky, lightning briefly illuminating the dark corridor. The crystal walls trembled faintly, reflecting the dim, wavering light. His gaze landed on a small crack along the floor’s edge, and he halted. His dark eyes lingered on the crack, but his mind sank deeper into the chaos of his thoughts.

Attacking the city? No chance. The Skyships and Golem cannons would obliterate them before they even got close, he thought, the words cutting through the storm like whispers.

His footsteps resumed, slower and heavier. His eyes swept over the corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly ahead. His breaths came long and uneven, his head dipping slightly as if reaching a conclusion.

If not the city… then what? Why amass so much power just to crush villages? What’s their real target?

Drifter stopped at his door, his hand trembling faintly as he pressed the button on the wall. A soft light filled the small room as he stepped inside. Removing his soaked suit, he dropped it onto a nearby chair before sinking into the sofa. His body slumped forward, his hands clasped tightly over his knees, his eyes fixed on the floor. His jaw clenched as his thoughts spiraled, breaking the silence that surrounded him.