From behind, Mr. Alden stepped into the opening Ronan had created, his cloak snapping in the violent surge of Aether. His sword blazed with a brilliant sky-blue glow, water essence spiralling along the blade in rippling currents that hissed against the lingering heat in the air.
"Sky Splitter!"
His strike mirrored Ronan's perfectly.
One slash burned crimson. The other shimmered blue-white.
Fire and water collided midair.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause beneath the pressure of converging force. Then the two attacks fused together, twisting into a violent torrent of opposing elements.
The explosion tore through the clearing.
Wind screamed outward. Dirt erupted from the earth. Trees bent under the shockwave, branches cracking as heat and vapour blasted through the forest. Steam roared into the night like a living thing.
The hooded man was hurled backwards.
His body slammed against the ground with brutal force, rolling through scorched soil before collapsing in a heap. Blood spread beneath him in uneven streams, dark against the dirt. Torn flesh marked his arms and chest, the remnants of shattered protection still flickering weakly across his skin.
He coughed violently, struggling to push himself up.
Ronan walked forward.
His footsteps were slow, measured.
The flames coating his sword faded, but the heat around him remained, wavering through the cold night air. His expression did not change. No triumph. No relief.
Only a terrible stillness.
A crimson flame wisp formed in his palm, spinning slowly above his fingers like condensed wrath.
The defeated man froze.
Panic flooded his face. He scrambled backwards using trembling elbows, boots dragging uselessly through the dirt.
"W-Wait…" His voice cracked. "Please—wait. What do you want? I can give you anything. Money, status, women—anything you want. Just say it!"
Ronan stared at him.
The words barely reached him.
All he could see were cages.
Chains.
Terrified children.
Empty eyes staring through iron bars.
His jaw tightened.
"This filth still thinks everything can be bought."
Without a word, he flicked his wrist.
The crimson flame shot forward.
It struck the man's chest.
Fire spread instantly.
The hooded man shrieked.
Flames crawled across his robes, clinging to fabric and flesh alike. He rolled violently across the ground, clawing at himself, fingers scraping uselessly against burning skin. The smell of charred cloth mixed with scorched flesh was thick and nauseating in the damp forest air.
"Ronan! Don't kill him!" Mr. Alden's voice cut through the chaos. "We need him alive for information!"
Ronan's breathing slowed. Barely. He exhaled through clenched teeth, forcing control into limbs that wanted only destruction. The flames weakened. Not extinguished. Just restrained. He crouched beside the writhing man. The heat radiating from the burning body brushed against Ronan's face, carrying the acrid scent of smoke and blood.
"Talk."
The man's teeth ground together. Sweat and tears streaked through ash coating his face. His body trembled violently from pain, yet his lips remained sealed.
Silence.
Ronan's eyes darkened. His fingers slowly curled into a fist. The reaction was immediate.
The man convulsed. A scream tore from his throat as fire ignited inside him.
Not outside.
Within.
His chest arched upward. Veins bulged beneath skin as internal flames devoured him from the core outward. His body jerked uncontrollably against the ground.
"Ronan, that's enough!" Mr. Alden grabbed his wrist. His grip was firm. Not forceful. "There are other ways—"
The man suddenly gasped. His eyes widened so far the whites gleamed in the firelight. "I'll talk! I'll—" A sharp crack split the night.
The sound was wrong, clean and sudden.
Everyone froze.
A black mark surfaced across the man's neck, spreading like ink beneath his skin. Jagged lines spiralled outward across his chest and jaw.
The curse seal.
It pulsed once.
Then again.
Dark energy burst from beneath his flesh.
The man's body stiffened violently. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his eyes flooding with terror so absolute it looked almost childlike.
Then—
Boom.
His body exploded.
Blood, bone, and dark energy erupted outward in a violent spray.
Heat blasted across Ronan's face.
Fragments scattered across scorched earth before dissolving into drifting black ash.
The smell of burnt metal lingered in the air.
Then came silence.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
Even the forest seemed to recoil.
No insects.
No wind.
Only the fading crackle of dying flames.
Ronan remained crouched where he was.
His breathing came slow and uneven.
Then he slowly turned, eyes narrowing into the darkness beyond the trees.
Someone had silenced him.
The flying ship cut through the night sky like a blade.
Cold wind rushed past the hull, carrying the scent of rain and distant pine. Moonlight reflected across polished wood and metal fittings as the vessel surged forward beneath Mr. Alden's control.
The deck was quiet.
The rescued boys and girls sat huddled together beneath blankets and cloaks. Their faces were pale beneath the lantern glow, exhaustion hollowing their eyes. Some stared silently into nothing. Others leaned weakly against one another, unable to stay upright.
Among them, one girl lay motionless.
Her breathing was shallow.
Fragile.
Her body trembled faintly against the wooden floorboards.
Ronan knelt beside her.
Crimson light flowed from his hands, spreading gently across her chest and shoulders. The glow of Blazing Restoration flickered unevenly, warm against skin drained of life.
Sweat gathered along Ronan's brow. His breathing had grown heavier. The others had stabilised. Bruises faded. Broken skin closed. Fever weakened.
But not her. The empty void left behind by a stolen magical core was too deep. Every pulse of healing met an absence that refused to answer. Ronan pushed more Aether into the spell. The crimson glow brightened. Pain crawled through his arms. His reserves were nearly gone. The crystal's absorbed energy had long since thinned into fragments.
Still, he refused to stop. Minutes stretched. The ship groaned softly as it sliced through heavy wind.
Then—
Her eyelids fluttered.
Ronan stiffened.
Her lips parted.
"Water…"
The word was barely audible.
Orin immediately moved.
He slid beside her, one hand carefully lifting her head while the other brought a flask to her lips. Water dripped slowly between cracked lips.
She swallowed weakly.
Her fingers twitched against the flask, unable to hold it steady.
But for the first time, something returned to her eyes.
A faint awareness.
A fragile spark.
Mr. Alden glanced back from the helm.
His expression tightened.
Without a word, he pushed more power into the ship.
The vessel accelerated.
The wind howled louder across the deck.
Ronan kept healing.
His hands trembled now.
The crimson glow flickered.
He could feel the spell unravelling.
Like a thread being pulled apart, strand by strand.
His gaze lifted.
Mr. Alden looked back at him.
Their eyes met.
The older man inhaled slowly.
His fingers tightened around the wheel.
Then he shook his head.
"This is… a lost cause."
The words came quietly.
Not cold.
Not detached.
Only heavy.
As though he hated speaking them.
Ronan's stomach twisted.
His hands clenched harder around the fading spell.
No.
Not yet.
Not after all this.
He forced more Aether forward.
The strain stabbed behind his eyes.
His vision blurred.
But he refused to stop.
The girl shifted weakly.
Then, despite her trembling body, she slowly bowed her head.
"Thank you… everyone."
Her voice was thin.
Soft enough that the wind nearly carried it away.
The other rescued children lowered their gazes.
Some wiped tears from their faces.
Quiet voices followed hers.
"Thank you…"
"Thank you for saving us…"
The words trembled through the air.
The girl slowly turned her gaze toward Ronan.
Her eyes were glassy, yet startlingly gentle.
"I… I'm sorry."
Ronan froze.
"My brother…" Her breathing hitched. "He must have caused you so much pain."
She swallowed.
Each breath looked difficult.
"Please… can you forgive him?"
Something shifted inside Ronan.
Like glass cracking beneath pressure.
His throat tightened.
The deck beneath him suddenly felt distant.
Orin lowered his gaze.
Mr. Alden turned from the helm.
"There is no need for you to apologise," he said quietly.
His voice carried no authority now.
Only sorrow.
"We are the ones who failed."
A tear slipped down the girl's cheek.
Yet she smiled.
A small, fragile curve of her lips.
No anger.
No resentment.
Only tired acceptance.
"At least… he's free now."
Her eyes drifted toward the night sky.
"I want to apologise to the villagers too…"
Her voice faded.
"I just hope… I can hold on long enough."
The ship continued forward.
Fast.
The wooden floor vibrated beneath Ronan's knees.
The girl's breathing had grown thinner now.
Long pauses.
Shallow pulls of air.
Ronan lowered his hands against her once more.
Healing light flowed into her body again.
He already knew.
It would not save her.
But maybe—
Maybe it could give her a little more time.
A few more breaths.
A few more words.
Mr. Alden pushed the ship harder.
Wind tore across the deck.
The lantern flames bent sideways beneath the rush.
The girl murmured something.
Too soft to hear.
Ronan leaned closer.
He thought she wanted more water.
His ear moved near her lips.
Then he heard it.
"Don't worry, brother…"
A faint breath escaped her.
"I'm coming to you."
Ronan's chest constricted.
Something heavy pressed inward beneath his ribs.
Slowly, she opened her eyes again.
Her gaze found him.
Even now, she smiled.
Small.
Weak.
Real.
"Thank you… for trying to save me."
Ronan lowered his head.
His lips trembled.
Words would not come.
The warmth in his hands suddenly felt unbearable.
She watched him quietly.
Then spoke again.
Gentle.
Steady.
"I am happier now… than I was in life."
Her gaze drifted upward toward the stars beyond the ship's railing.
"Soon… I will be free."
Her breathing weakened further.
"No more pain. No more fear."
A pause.
"No more bullying… no more cruelty."
Ronan swallowed hard.
"But… your brother. We—"
She shook her head slowly.
The motion was small.
Fragile.
Yet certain.
"Do you feel guilty?"
Her eyes searched his.
There was no accusation in them.
Only understanding.
"There's no need."
Her fingers shifted weakly against the wooden floor.
"There was no other way to save him."
A shallow breath escaped her.
"At least… he's no longer a puppet."