Silas stood amidst the frozen battlefield, crimson staining the snow beneath his boots. Ren's final strike had left its mark — his armor cracked, a fresh scar across his stomach. Yet, even now, he stood tall, breath steady, eyes cold.
Reid moved first, fists clenched, eyes burning with fury. The ground quaked beneath each step, ice fracturing under his sheer force. Silas braced himself, shifting his stance. Reid's punch tore through the air, a hammer of raw mana. Silas twisted aside, feeling the shockwave ripple against his body as Reid's fist collided with the earth, blasting snow and ice into the sky.
Arthur followed seamlessly, darting into the storm of ice and debris. His blade danced, each strike precise and measured, flowing into the next like water over stone. Silas's sword met his, sparks flickering in the frigid air. Arthur feinted left, spinning low to sweep Silas's legs. Silas leapt back, blade cutting downward to counter, but Arthur had already shifted, his sword tip grazing Silas's side. A thin line of crimson painted the snow.
Rin was next. Her black flames ignited, wreathing her arms as she rushed forward, weaving between Arthur's movements. Her flames clung to Silas's armor, hissing and crackling as they devoured mana, the metal blackening under the intense heat. Silas yanked free, slashing through the dark fire, but it clung stubbornly to him, tendrils of heat licking at his skin. Rin slid back, her flames swirling protectively around her.
Lyra's bowstring thrummed, an arrow streaking through the blizzard. Silas heard it before he saw it — a whisper against the wind. He tilted his head, the arrow grazing his cheek. Blood dripped down his face, vanishing into the snow. His eyes flicked toward Lyra, narrowing. She already had another arrow nocked, violet mana swirling around the shaft.
Ryoma charged, the earth quaking beneath him. His fist, crackling with unrefined mana, swung toward Silas. Silas caught the blow with his palm, ice shattering under the pressure. Ryoma pushed harder, veins bulging as his mana roared to life. Silas's feet slid back, the ice groaning beneath them, before he twisted Ryoma's arm and drove a knee into his stomach. Ryoma crumpled, gasping for air.
Reid roared back into the fray, fists swinging wildly, each blow a storm of raw force. Silas moved like a shadow, slipping between strikes, his blade a blur of black steel. Blood sprayed across the snow as Silas's sword carved through Reid's side, the massive man crashing into the ice.
Arthur pressed forward again, his blade flashing in tandem with Rin's flames. Lyra's arrows rained down, each shot precise, forcing Silas to maneuver carefully. Ryoma pushed himself up, lunging once more, his sheer power shaking the ground.
But Silas moved like a dark tide, flowing through their combined assault. His blade met Arthur's with a sharp clang, parried Rin's fiery strike, twisted past Reid's thunderous punches, and narrowly avoided Lyra's enchanted arrows. Each movement was calculated, precise.
Milo stood at the edge, trembling, eyes wide as he clutched his dagger. He watched his friends fight, watched them bleed, watched them fall.
Silas wiped the blood from his blade, glancing at the ragged group before him. "You fought well," he said quietly. "But this is over."
The air grew still. Snow drifted softly to the ground. And in that moment, the team stood together, battered but unbroken.
"Not yet," Ryoma growled.
Ryoma blocked Silas blade with his forearms, pushing toward him. Ryoma roared as he summoned his mana to push harder. "No one else will die because of me!"
Ryoma flipped backwards, landing a kick to Silas's face. He lunged forward and slammed his fist into the core of his armor, but Silas was unmoved.
"That was disappointing. You're nothing like the Violet Storm." Silas grabbed Ryoma's fist and snapped his wrist. He screamed in pain and fell to his knees. Silas lifted Ryoma up by his wrist and looked him in the eyes. "You don't deserve my respect."
Silas pulled back his free arm, then forced it forward, piercing Ryoma's chest.
"No!" Rin screamed from behind. She ran forward to stop it, but she isn't strong enough.
Silas raised his hand to summon spikes that pierced Rin. He then turned his attention back to Ryoma. "You're still breathing? Are you perhaps an Estrella?" Ryoma couldn't answer.
Silas slammed him to the ground. "Answer me." He said in a commanding voice. "You'll be more useful dead." Silas tore Ryoma's arm from its socket and tossed it aside.
Everyone was speechless, and only watched from behind in fear. Silas stepped forward, making his way toward Rin.
Rin was impaled by a blood spike, unable to move away. "I can't die, I don't wanna die." Rin thought back to her fight with Cain. "I can't feel that pain again." She muttered. The tears poured from her eyes as she removed the spike from her chest. She fell back and tried to crawl away from Silas.
Silas stopped in his tracks, turning back to glance at the battlefield. "This'll be enough," he muttered, raising his hand to open a swirling dark portal. Without another word, he stepped through and vanished.
Rin's chest heaved, breaths coming fast and ragged. Her legs gave out, and she dropped to her knees, clutching her heart. The weight of it all bore down on her — the near-death experience, the helplessness, the fear. She could've died. But worse, she could've done something. Or at least, that's what she told herself.
Arthur stood frozen, sword trembling in his hand before he sheathed it with a soft click. His heart pounded in his chest, eyes flicking over the bodies and broken earth. The silence was deafening. Finally, he forced himself to move, running to Lyra's side and helping her to her feet.
Rin pushed through the pain, forcing herself up. She sprinted toward Ryoma's body and collapsed next to him. "Ryoma!" Her voice broke, trembling hands cradling his head. "You can't die… I didn't even get to know you. Sosuke's brother." Her tears fell onto his still face, but his life had already slipped away. His body was cold.
Arthur knelt beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault, Rin," he said softly. "If you'd done any more, you'd both be dead."
Rin buried her face in her hands, a raw, heart-wrenching sob escaping her lips. The sound echoed through the empty battlefield. Arthur turned away, unable to look at Ryoma's lifeless body any longer.
"There was nothing any of us could've done," he said quietly. "Silas left right after attacking Ryoma. He knew exactly what he was doing."
Arthur rose and walked a few paces away, giving Rin space to grieve. She knelt there for what felt like an eternity before wiping her tears with the back of her hand, her face hardening.
"We have to move," she said, voice hoarse. "This isn't a place for injured people."
Arthur nodded solemnly.
They had no way to contact the outside world, stranded deep in enemy territory. For days, they survived in a makeshift shelter, their pace slowed by Ren's worsening condition. Fevered and unable to use his right arm, he relied on Arthur to lead in Sosuke's absence. No one spoke about Sosuke — they couldn't, not yet. Survival came first.
Eventually, they reached the edge of a cliff, where a sprawling city unfolded before them. The view stole the breath from their lungs.
The city stretched across the valley, cascading down toward a winding river that shimmered under the golden hues of sunset. Spires of dark stone pierced the sky, and towering walls encircled the heart of the city, their ancient surfaces weathered but proud. Flickering lights from street lanterns glowed faintly in the encroaching dusk, and smoke curled lazily from chimneys, blending into the painted sky of purples, reds, and oranges. Beyond the city, jagged mountains loomed, their snow-capped peaks catching the last rays of sunlight.
"This view…" Lyra whispered, eyes wide as she took it all in. The sky burned with color, casting long shadows across the land. "Damn it… why does this place have to be beautiful? You never see things like this in Westoria."
Arthur stood beside her, arms folded. "You know," he began quietly, "centuries ago, before magic came into the world, we were one nation. One people. Prosperous… but greedy. Difference in ideology tore us apart."
Lyra looked at him, surprised. "Really?"
Arthur gave a small nod. "Yeah. Guess not much has changed."
He turned back to the others, watching them drop their gear and slump to the ground, exhaustion weighing heavy on every step.
"Let's settle here for the night," Arthur said. "We'll reach the city tomorrow."
Lyra let out a soft sigh. "Probably."
The two stood in silence, the cold wind biting at their skin. Arthur blew hot air into his palms, rubbing them together.
"Lyra…" His voice wavered. "I'm sorry. For everything." He turned toward her. "I don't know if I ever did anything directly to you, but… I'm sorry for the way I was."
Lyra blinked, taken aback. "Why the change of heart?"
Arthur hesitated, staring at his hands. "I guess I finally realized what I should be doing with my life. I was fighting for something I never really wanted."
Lyra studied him for a long moment. Then, placing her hands on her hips, she turned to face him fully.
"Alright," she said with a small smirk. "I'll accept your apology… if it means we can be friends." She jabbed a finger at him.
Arthur blinked, then laughed softly. "Yeah. Why not?"
The two stood there as the last light of day faded behind the mountains, the city's distant lights flickering to life below.