“As always,” Mila looked at the empty, dreary sky. “I wonder what normal dreams feel like.” She tried to recall, but it had been so long the memory escaped her.

What had been the last dream Mila had seen?

Nothing.

She couldn’t remember.

Sighing, Mila finally stopped looking at the vast expanse of wasteland and searched for her ever-present companion. She stretched, trying to get a feel for her body.

Despite the harrowing experiences the last night, Mila felt fine. Ever since she had woken up in her new form, she had not truly hit her limits.

This empty dreamscape would hopefully help Mila find her limits. She cracked her neck, shook her legs and tried to warm her body for a good run.

Frankly, Mila needed a moment to herself. Her mind was full of worries and fears. Kanna and Mortimer had done well to walk as fast as possible before collapsing, but it was not enough.

At least Isabel had woken up. She had gently forced Mila to rest. And begrudgingly, Mila had accepted. She needed to be in her top shape for when the pursuers came.

And they would come. Mila was sure of it. The question was just when. While walking, she had played around with the idea of simply running away with Isabel in her hands.

It was an idle fantasy, quickly squashed under Mila’s own conscience. Even more importantly, Isabel would hate her if she did.

Furthermore, while Mila wanted to simply run, there was a decision she had to make. Her mana pool had bloated in size despite it not being even a month they had spent in Stilag.

Mila had to decide on what to do with it. With her new, improved body, she didn’t need to rely as much on mana reinforcing it. She could rely on her own muscles to withstand most battles.

What Mila needed the most was a way to attack at a distance. With the loss of Andrew… She shook her head. He wasn’t gone for good.

Not unless Andrew succeeded in finding the way back to the Earth. Which Mila still thought was a foolish idea.

But not as foolish as before experiencing the last night.

Mila shuddered. It was safe to think about horrors like that here, but… She would rather not. Not so soon. Not right after going through the hell that was the previous night.

That is why Mila returned to planning. She had to acknowledge she was now their scout as well as damage dealer. Isabel was too single-minded in her pursuit of martial prowess. Her girl was always trying to improve her toughness and strength.

And to be fair, Isabel had succeeded to a ridiculous degree. She was nigh indestructible. If not for the enemies they were facing…

It was still not enough. Mila knew Isabel would continue her path. Her girl was like that - headstrong to a fault when it came to protecting Mila.

Just that Isabel had one way to attack at a distance. She was a melee fighter through and through.

It left a rather big gap in their offensive capabilities. Mila also preferred melee. And with her newfound strength…

Mila looked at her thin wrists. They didn’t look like they could handle a greatsword or halberd. And it wouldn’t be practical anyway. Her body wasn’t suited for heavy, large weapons like those. She wasn’t like Isabel, who could wield a sizable war hammer in one hand when needed.

Speaking of which - Mila hadn’t seen the thing near Isabel. She suspected Laura had reclaimed the weapon of her dead comrade.

Isabel hadn’t mentioned the fact yet. Or maybe she hadn’t noticed, but Mila suspected she would be angry. The hammer was entrusted to Isabel by a worthy opponent in their last moments.

Be as it may, Mila wanted to use one of the heftier weapons with wild abandon just once. Mila could become a true whirlwind of death. The experience of overcoming adversity with just raw, pure was a liberating feeling.

But what for?

Dropping the idle fantasies, Mila began to run, gradually increasing her speed. She wondered where the old Ghost had run off to. He was usually here, waiting for her to arrive.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Or maybe she could concentrate even more on being stealthy. Mila rummaged on the idea. It wasn’t impossible. She had gathered quite a large amount of mana.

The constant slaughter had been taxing. Mila still felt her soul shake from all the death she had caused and seen.

Sure, Mila had witnessed much in her dreams. But having her own body do the killing. Her own eyes saw the death.

It was different. More personal. And if Mila was shaken, what about Isabel? Sleeping was a mistake. She should be awake, soothing her girl.

Sighing, Mila increased her pace once more. This new body felt like it had no limits. Sure, there was the feeling of tiredness and shortness of breath, but it passed too quickly.

Mila could feel her body adapt to the new demands as she pushed it past its already high limits.

It felt like cheating.

And a good thing, too. It had been a while since Mila had a lucky break. She only hoped this was a free gift and not something she would have to pay for in future.

That thought was worrying. “This is a wholly good thing, right?” Mila spoke, ignoring the burning in her lungs.

Despite not seeing the damned thing, Mila knew he was somewhere close, probably watching and judging her lacking.

“This body.” She continued. “I won’t die young, right? Isabel wouldn’t forgive you if I did.” Mila looked around, finding nothing.

“Hey. You ancient relic, where are you?” Mila started to worry. “You are not planning on taking over my body, are you?” She voiced a fear she usually held close to her heart.

“...No.”

Mila’s heart almost stopped. She stumbled back from the suddenly appearing form in front of her. The sudden half made her lose all balance, and she fell on her butt, still looking at the spectre.

Aaers was… More solid. Not tangible, no. He was still transparent. But there was more of Aaers’s. His form was almost recognisable - not just a vague feeling of human proportions.

Gawking at the remnant of a man, Mila coughed. “Y-you can talk?” She couldn’t believe it. It should have been impossible. “Since when?” Her heartbeat refused to slow down.

Aaers shrugged, but there was no answer. He seemed almost regretful as he inspected his limbs with what she translated as being worried.

“You spoke,” Mila got up, brushing away no-existant dust. “I heard you. Since when?”

A series of gestures followed. Aaers appeared to be impatient. His ghostly body shook as if about to dissolve.

Now that Mila got a closer look, she realised Aaers wasn’t looking good. He was more solid, yes and also more real. That was true.

However, there was more to it. Mila could tell Aaers was struggling to keep himself together.

“What happened?” She walked closer, staying outside of the man’s reach. Mila squinted, trying to peer through the translucent being. “Overtaxation? But you seem stronger if anything.”

Aaers nodded as his form coalesced. It took a while, but he became stable. “More-” Just to fall apart as he attempted to communicate again.

The word brushed past Mila, not being formed by an actual mouth. It was more like a direct transmission of a thought but more tangible. “That is…” She circled around Aaers. “New.”

Clearly, Aaers was annoyed. He shoved a whole bunch of emotions Mila’s way, making her flinch.

It was overwhelming and promised violence. Mila knew a training session would follow. It was how they usually communicated.

Still, Mila didn’t miss the tinge of loneliness and sense of loss at the edges of Aaers’s outburst.

Perhaps it was on purpose. Mila couldn’t tell. Aaers didn’t seem to be stable, so it could be either way.

“What happened?” She decided to ask. Mila couldn’t shake off a feeling of something being wrong.

The simple question seemed to break the usually stoic, ancient mind. Aaers collapsed on the ground, the whole world shaking as he did.

Mila almost fell from the sudden earthquake passing. She steadied herself, taking a step forward. Her hand hovered in the air above where the ghostly form was seemingly sobbing.

There was no sound. It seemed like each time Aaers spoke, his essence diminished, leaving him drained. But he didn’t need to.

The sorrow was clear. Mila was unsure what to do. She lowered her hand, trying to touch Aaers’s shoulder, but it simply sunk into his body.

The unpleasant sensation of touching something within another being made Mila yank back her hand. She glanced at her palm, almost expecting it to be damaged. The sensation was just that repulsive.

But there was nothing on her skin. Mila winced as another wave of sadness and loss washed over her. The feeling threatened to overcome her.

“Uh,” She crouched next to the pile of sadness. “Is there something I can do?” Mila changed her plans. Getting used to her body could wait.

Despite waiting, Aaers didn’t attempt to respond. His form barely moved, sometimes looking at the distance, at the empty sky and sometimes glancing at Mila.

“Really, what do I do?” Mila was lost. She couldn’t touch the remnant of the man, nor did she know what had made him sad.

The sense of loss didn’t go away. If anything, it grew stronger. Mila gritted her teeth and stayed. She joined Aaers in watching the empty vastness of nothing.

After a while, Mila sat down. The torrent of feelings washing over her had lessened, replaced by a dull sense of pain.

Mila didn’t know how long they had sat - hours, most likely.

Only then did Aaers raised himself from the ground and bowed. Mila felt the surroundings begin to distort. She realised it was time to wake up.

A new chapter of her life was about to start.