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

Nadia rushed forward, closing the distance between herself, Alma, and Mara, but suddenly, a burst of blue flames erupted before her. In an instant, Mara appeared, slashing her dagger, blue flames trailing behind.

Nadia’s eyes widened. Reflexes kicking in, she raised her arm, and a faint brown light pulsed from her skin—her natural barrier blocking 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.

Far ahead, Alma saw it all unfold. Her jaw tightened, and she raised her hands released the fireball from her red sigil. 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 with steps light and deliberate. 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?" say Mara with exaggerated, sing-song voice.

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.

Mara let out a soft chuckle.

"Not my problem, is it? They brought it on themselves,"

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, each swing reducing them to crumbling shards that scattered like dust in the rain.

“See you in the afterlife,” Mara's voice was sweet, yet mocking.

Alma ignited Inferno Tornado in her hands, followed by a barrage of Exalt Missiles, all zeroing in on Mara. Each clash between Alma’s magic and Mara’s blue flames erupted in thunderous explosions.

“Go, Nadia… I’ll hold her off!” Alma shouted, her voice raw but firm.

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.

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 barrier 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 as she unleashed Cerulevia Chain, which lashed out, forming a deadly web aimed at Alma and Nadia. The chains coiled around them, immobilizing them on the ground.

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.

Nadia lay motionless, trembling, her breath shallow.

“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 while the Graklings and Graklors circled around them, their glowing red eyes watching silently, unmoving.

Suddenly, glowing blue spectral swords appeared, spinning with deadly speed, cutting through the surrounding Graklings and Graklors, and 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.

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

"Come on, we’re not done yet!"

"Thank you, Alma," Nadia murmured softly.

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.

The horde charged, their energy claws glowing with deadly brilliance.

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 unleashed Exalt Healing, a circle of pink energy swirling over her wounds. But the bleeding wouldn't stop. Her head grew light, dizziness clouding her vision

"Help… someone… please…" her voice shaky and desperate.

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

Acting quickly, she 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 near 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.

With a swift motion, Mara raised her hand. A dark blue sigil flared, Cerulevia Pyre erupted from her palm, blue flames spreading in a massive arc. Their bodies disintegrated into ash, their screams fading into the storm.

Witnessing the chaos, Drifter immediately seized the opportunity. He activated Exalt Shift, teleporting directly toward Nadia and Alma. Upon arriving, he saw Nadia kneeling beside Alma, her hands trembling as she cast Healing Earth to Alma’s pale body.

Alma’s breaths were shallow, barely audible, and blood continued to flow despite the healing magic working tirelessly.

"Take my hand…" Drifter whispered, his gaze locked on them, unwavering.

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 cast Healing Surge, a faint blue glow emanating from his palms.

When Nadia moved to assist him, he raised a hand, signaling her to stop.

"Run! Now! Get Alma out of here!" he commanded, his voice firm.

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.

He attempted to materialize a single spectral sword 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 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.

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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 into the Grakling. The creatures were sent sprawling to the ground.

Drifter turned sharply, narrowing his eyes. Through the rain, Jaxon Virelli emerged, 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. 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 louder. A shadow lunged from the side, its dark elemental claws slashing forward. Pain seared through her arm as the Grakling’s strike landed. She staggered but stifled the cry in her throat. Alma’s weight shifted, and she gripped tighter, steadying herself.

Her trembling hand struck the ground. 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 rushed forward and knelt beside Alma, his hands trembling.

"Hold on, Alma. Please, just hold on!" he urged, yellow energy flowing from his hands.

Finally, Nadia 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.

Without a word, Drifter nodded at Friedrich, who carefully bent down to lift Alma’s frail body. Luna raised her hand, using telekinesis to gently lift Nadia into the air. Together, they moved 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. He noticed Jaxon sitting nearby.

“Not planning to get those injuries checked?” Jaxon asked, his tone light.

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

Jaxon gave a small nod.

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

The door creaked open slowly. Luna stepped out, her movements deliberate.

"How are they?" Drifter asked, his voice hoarse.

"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.

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.

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

“It’s okay, Drifter… what matters is that we’re still alive,” she whispered.

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.

“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. Her shoulders trembled before she slumped back against the bed, each breath short and strained. She squeezed her eyes shut, her face twisting.

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

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

Her chest heaved as tears welled in her eyes before spilling over, tracing silent trails down her face.

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.

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 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.

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.

Nadia turned her head, her brows furrowed.

"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.

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.

Nadia didn’t respond, only nodding slowly as silent tears streamed down her face. Her hands clenched tightly at her sides.

[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?"