"Just when we finally regrouped, we have to split up again." Kaelin scoffed, his voice tinged with disappointment. "The so-called team of battlemages, yet we’ve barely had one real battle together—if you can even call it that."

The trio stood just outside the main hall, where the orders had been finalized. They lingered, each seeming to savor the last moments together before parting ways once more.

In their last briefing, it had been decided the red core mages would split among the three largest clans near the western border. Both Fabia and Nithra had a single red core mage, but another one would greatly increase their defensive capabilities, buying time for orderly retreats if the need arose. Serra had been sent north to the Nithra Clan, while Rifi and Kaelin were stationed with the Aemiliana Clan, and Edran and Tenex went to the Fabia Clan, strategically positioned between the others. Fabia’s location was ideal; from there, they could quickly reinforce either of the two outer clans, coordinating legion movements efficiently from a central stronghold.

"It is what it is," Serra replied, a playful glint in her eyes. "We’ll meet again soon—assuming you two can stay away from the enemy’s swords long enough."

Kaelin smirked. "Well, thanks for worrying. Warms my heart that you’re concerned for us."

Rifi chuckled softly, mostly to himself. "Our mission’s only on hold; I’m certain of it. Once this business with Argos is finished, we’ll regroup."

Serra nodded, her expression momentarily serious. "Yeah, I believe that too."

They shared a moment of silent understanding, knowing their paths would soon diverge but confident they’d cross again. Serra’s gaze drifted toward the gates, her face steady and resolute.

"I shouldn’t delay much longer," she said quietly. "Stay alive, both of you."

"You too. Stay safe." Kaelin and Rifi replied in unison, their voices low.

With a final nod, Serra turned and made her way toward the northern gates, her armor gleaming in the late sunlight. In full battle regalia, she looked every bit the seasoned warrior—a polished breastplate with crimson and black accents marking her as a battlemage of Hepestus, the determination in her stride unmistakable. Legionaries nearby cast admiring glances as she passed, each glance speaking of respect. Rifi and Kaelin, however, looked far from battle-ready, clad in simple tunics while their armor was being hastily repaired after the last fight.

As Serra’s figure disappeared, Kaelin clapped Rifi on the shoulder. "Let’s grab a bite. You haven’t eaten in nearly two days, have you?"

Rifi’s stomach growled at the mention. "Now that you say it, I’m starving. Living on mana alone doesn’t exactly hit the spot."

Kaelin rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it. But if they’re serving fish, I’ll go hungry."

Rifi raised a brow, stifling a smirk. "What’s wrong with fish?"

Kaelin grimaced, throwing him a sidelong glance. "After a siege that left me eating nothing but fish for weeks, the smell alone turns my stomach."

Rifi’s expression shifted briefly before he masked it with a smirk. "That’s nothing. Try living in a cave with only fish for… a while. It changes how you look at things."

Kaelin eyed him, his curiosity piqued, but he chose not to press. Instead, he grinned. "You’re full of surprises, you know that?"

Rifi shrugged, attempting a nonchalant smile, though a hint of something unspoken lingered in his eyes. "What can I say? Fish and I aren’t exactly friends."

Their chuckles softened the tension as they entered the mess hall. The smells of stew and roasted vegetables filled the air. Legionaries around them threw glances their way, whispers passing between groups as rumors of recent battles had spread quickly.

As they received their portions, Kaelin leaned in, his voice low. "You hear them, right? Rumors are spreading like wildfire."

Rifi nodded, catching fragments of the gossip: "Fire and lightning leaving nothing but scorched earth and ashes."… "enemy red cores falling like flies." It was strange hearing such tales when he and Kaelin hadn’t even had time to process the battle themselves.

They found a quiet corner and dug into their food, savoring the warmth of the stew. For a few minutes, there was no sound between them but the clinking of spoons and the low hum of conversation around them.

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"Best meal I’ve had in ages," Rifi sighed, setting down his spoon. "Feels like forever since I had something decent."

Kaelin chuckled. "Not hard to impress a guy who’s been starving, but I have to agree."

Kaelin’s eyes lit with curiosity as he recalled their conversation before eating. "Now I really have to know—what kind of punishment landed you with a fish-only diet?"

Rifi hesitated, a shadow crossing his face before he masked it with a grin. "Maybe one day I’ll tell you. For now, just know I avoid fish like the plague."

Kaelin laughed, though he noted the flicker of mystery in Rifi’s expression. Silence fell again as they focused on their meal. When they finished, both men lifted their cups in a quiet toast. "Cheers," they said in unison, clinking cups.

"To surviving," Kaelin added, taking a long drink.

Rifi echoed him, though his gaze drifted, thoughtful. For him, survival had often felt more like a duty—or, to be precise, an obligation—something he owed to those who had sacrificed their lives for him.

Kaelin leaned back, crossing his arms. "So, Rifi, what do you make of this Argos invasion? Why push this hard?"

Rifi’s gaze turned steely. "It’s always the same. Greed for power, control. Doesn’t matter how many people get caught in the crossfire."

Kaelin nodded, understanding. "But what about you? Don’t you ever want something beyond being… well, used in battles like this?"

Rifi looked down, quiet for a moment. "I’ve never really thought about it that way. I’m still new to the title of battlemage. It feels like I haven’t earned the right to want anything more."

Kaelin shook his head, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Give it time. You’ll see things differently. I’ve been a battlemage for over a decade now, and recently, I’ve started wondering… How long can I keep doing this, going from one battle to the next?"

Rifi turned to him, a bit surprised. Kaelin rarely spoke this way, and he hadn’t expected such a confession. “You want something more than this? I thought you were content in the City Lord’s service.”

“Don’t get me wrong—I respect the City Lord, and I’m grateful for what I’ve learned,” Kaelin admitted, his gaze distant. “But, yes, I do want something more. Something of my own. A family, maybe even a clan. That doesn’t change my loyalty—it’s just… something lasting to leave behind.”

Rifi’s brow lifted, both surprised and a bit impressed. "I can’t imagine you as anything other than Kaelin the Infernoheart."

Kaelin chuckled, scratching his head. "Not bad, right? But fame only goes so far. Soon enough, you’ll have a name like that, too." He paused, his gaze softening. "But I want more. A clan, kids… something that lasts longer than just one fight after another."

Rifi tilted his head, a hint of curiosity in his expression. Kaelin caught the look and smiled, almost wistfully. "You’re still young, in your early twenties. I, on the other hand, am already past thirty." He shrugged. "After a decade of battles, you start thinking about what comes next."

Rifi gave a small nod, thoughtful. "I still have a long way to go—we mages live long lives, if they aren’t cut short by battle. And more often than not… they are." His gaze grew distant for a moment before he looked back at Kaelin. "But I can see why you’d want something more, something that outlasts the next fight."

Kaelin nodded, his expression softening. "Exactly. It’s not that I want to leave the fight behind entirely, but I want something to fight for that goes beyond myself."

Rifi nodded, quietly absorbing the gravity of Kaelin’s words. He admired Kaelin’s strength and resolve, but now, for the first time, he saw a man who longed for stability as much as he longed for a challenge.

Eventually, Kaelin stretched, glancing at the dimming light outside. "It’s late. We’d better get some rest before tomorrow."

Rifi gave him a small smile. "Try not to keep everyone awake with your snoring, Kaelin."

Kaelin chuckled, giving Rifi a playful shove. "I’ll be quiet as a shadow. It’s you I’d be worried about."

With that, they each found a quiet place to sleep; with the local civilians evacuated, many of the houses were available for legionaries. Rifi settled into one of these empty homes, the silence around him a stark contrast to the bustling mess hall.

Sitting cross-legged, Rifi began his meditation, focusing intently on the rhythm of his mana flow. The mana stones Edran had given him lay nearby, faintly glowing with raw, elementless energy. As he absorbed their power, he slipped into a delicate half-sleep state—an elusive balance of rest and awareness, his consciousness drifting while remaining tethered to the sensations of his body.

In this state, he let the energy from the stones permeate his mana channels, purifying and transforming it to merge seamlessly with his own reserves, increasing his mana density with every steady breath. Unlike most mages, who could only manage one process at a time, Rifi’s natural body allowed him to regenerate his muscles while refining his mana simultaneously. The ability demanded a relentless focus, as even a momentary lapse could lead to dangerous surges or bursts in his channels, a risk that lesser practitioners would never dare take.

But he’d recently unlocked the ability to maintain a half-sleep cultivation as Rifi called it—something few could achieve without immense control and fortitude. He let his awareness dip just enough to restore his mind, knowing his body was efficiently using each moment to heal and grow stronger. Still, the process was limited; after a few hours, the rate of mental fatigue began to overtake the rest he was obtaining, forcing him to stop.

Finally, as he reached his limits and sensed the creeping fatigue overpowering his clarity, he slowed his breathing, guiding the energy to settle quietly within his core. His muscles, newly restored, pulsed gently with the added strength of his purified mana. His mind, now decently rested through his half-sleep cultivation, needed only two or three hours of true sleep. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but tonight, he could find a few precious hours of genuine rest, grounded in the quiet strength he’d built within.