Volume 12 : Interlude – OUTSIDE THE CIRCLE

“ROAAAAARRRR—!”

A thunderous roar ripped through the mountains, shaking stone and sky alike.

While others would have searched the horizon in fear, one man merely lifted his gaze toward the summit.

His steel gauntlet rested calmly on the hilt at his waist as the wind whipped against his cloak, stirring his golden hair.

“Knights,” his voice rang across the raging wind, calm and unwavering, “We ride with haste. A foul omen stirs above.”

His sharp eyes narrowed.

“I can feel it,” he said, his eyes fixed on the peak. “Glory waits for us above… and if the dragon has truly fallen to madness…”

A faint smile touched his face. “Then today, we carve our names into something worth remembering.”

“Yes, Sir Goodwin!”

The students in knightly armor answered as one, their voices carrying the discipline drilled into them, and continued to follow the knight.

At the rear of the formation, a young man tightened his grip on his sword.

‘Please be safe, Ingrid… I’m here.’

Henrique lowered his head briefly before following.

“Glory to the Knight Student Club!” Goodwin declared, raising his hand toward the heavens. “March forward!”

Goodwin Knight—second-year Class S instructor at Grindelwald Magic Academy and a knight hailing from the Kingdom of Valoria, the kingdom renowned as the land of knights.

Suddenly, Goodwin felt a tinge on his skin as he turned to his left.

His pupils shrank. His relaxed demeanour vanished instantly.

“SHIELDS UP!”

The roar in his voice cracked through the forest like lightning. The students moved instantly without hesitation or question.

Magic circles flared beneath their feet as translucent barriers erupted around them. Goodwin raised his gauntlet to shield himself.

The next instant—

SHRRRRAAAAAK—!

A colossal wave of compressed wind screamed past.

Trees were sliced apart like grass.

Massive trunks split cleanly through the center before crashing into the earth.

And yet the knights stood untouched. Behind them, the mountain path lay shredded with deep gouges.

“…Impressive.”

A voice drifted through the settling dust.

Standing atop a jagged boulder was a man dressed in dark, fitted garments, fabric wrapped tightly around his body for silent movement. A hood shadowed his face while a black mask concealed everything but his sharp, mocking eyes.

Thin currents of wind curled unnaturally around his body.

“To notice my attack from this distance…” he said with amused admiration. “I should commend you.”

Goodwin lowered his gauntlet. Then ignored him completely.

“Formation advance,” he ordered calmly. “Continue toward the summit.”

He did not even spare the man a glance.

The students obeyed instantly.

Step after step, they walked past the assassin as if he were nothing more than a roadside stone.

The masked man blinked. “…Excuse me?”

No response. His eyebrow twitched.

“Oi.”

Still nothing.

“OI!”

Veins bulged faintly at his temple as he turned, making one last effort to get their attention.

“Hey! I said stop! We’re only just meeting, and you don’t even greet me?!”

Goodwin continued walking. The students followed.

The assassin’s eye twitched harder.

His voice darkened. “…Now you’ve really gone and done it.”

The wind suddenly twisted around him, turning violent.

“Do you all have rotten ears? You’ll have only yourselves to blame for making me angry.”

A vicious pressure exploded outward.

“How dare you look down on the assassins of the Wind Reapers?” His fingers twisted.

A gigantic revolving star of razor-sharp wind manifested above his hand.

The spinning force shrieked like thousands of blades grinding together.

“Let’s see if your arrogance survives this.”

He flicked his wrist. The spinning star tore across the mountain.

The ground ripped open beneath its passage. The sheer speed made it almost impossible to follow.

The students widened their eyes. Too late, or rather, it was too fast. It was already upon them.

…

Goodwin moved with a calmness so effortless it felt unnatural.

His thumb brushed against the hilt, and the sword slid free by barely half an inch.

SHING.

A silver flash cut through the air.

The spinning wind star split cleanly in two before either half exploded harmlessly to Goodwin’s sides.

…

BOOOOOOM—!!

Dust thundered skyward.

The masked assassin let out a scoff, folding his arms with smug amusement.

“Tch. That was disappointingly easy,” he said, shaking his head. “And here I was warned to be caref—”

His words died in his throat as the dust slowly parted.

Goodwin stood unmoving before his students, his blade still half-drawn and his expression utterly unchanged.

Behind him, every student remained untouched. Their protective barriers shimmered faintly in the aftermath, not a single crack marring their surface.

Not a single injury. Not even a scratch.

The assassin froze.

“…What?” His mouth twitched beneath the mask. “No. Don’t tell me…”

His gaze snapped toward the shredded remnants of dying wind currents.

“You cut my Razor Ball?”

Only then did Goodwin finally look at him.

His face grew serious. “Are you the enemy?”

The assassin blinked. “…Huh?”

“Are you the villain causing trouble on this mountain?”

Goodwin folded his arms as if genuinely pondering a grave matter.

“We received a rescue request in an envelope dropped outside my office.” He pointed toward the mountain summit. “A frail young maiden trapped at the top requested our help.”

His expression darkened.

“She wrote that she had been kidnapped by vicious bandits,” Goodwin declared solemnly, “forced into labor, starved without mercy, and made to suffer under unspeakable cruelty.”

With dramatic weight, he added, “And they only allow her to eat boiled turnips. How cruel is that.”

The assassin blinked once and went strangely still.

“…What kind of nonsense are you spouting?” he snapped. “Didn’t you hear me before? We’re assassins—not some pathetic roadside bandits who feed little girls boiled turnips.”

He spread his arms with irritation.

“But fine. If that’s what gets through your thick skull, yes—we’re the ones who took control of these mountains.”

Goodwin narrowed his eyes. “So, you admit guilt.”

“WHAT?! THAT’S NOT—”

“Students!” Goodwin raised a hand dramatically, his cape swaying behind him like a commander addressing an army. “The criminal has confessed to his crimes!”

The assassin nearly choked. “THAT IS NOT—!”

“We shall now put an end to his tyranny!” Goodwin declared.

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!”

The assassin’s composure finally cracked.

“…Fine.” His smile disappeared. “If this is how you want to play,” he said quietly, voice dripping with killing intent, “then I’ll make you beg for your life.”

A shrill whistle escaped his lips.

The shadows answered.

Black-clad silhouettes stepped soundlessly from the forest. Men wearing black cloth masks around their faces while curved daggers shimmered like predator fangs in their hands.

The students’ knights became alert.

They did not hear any footsteps or even their breathing, but they could feel the absolute killing intent those men exuded.

In an instant, they surrounded Goodwin and the students.

One assassin tilted his head. “No survivors.”

“All die here,” Another lazily rested twin blades over his shoulders.

The students instinctively reached for their swords.

For the briefest moment, fear flickered across their faces.

Goodwin stepped forward. A bold, thunderous laugh rolled across the battlefield like war drums.

“HAHAHA!”

He turned toward his students, eyes blazing with conviction.

“Fear not, young knights! This is nothing more than a stone upon your road to glory!”

His blade slid full way from its sheath, steel gleaming under the sunlight.

“Calm your hearts and steady your breath.” Goodwin took a deep breath.

The wind itself seemed to still. Even the assassins unconsciously stiffened. There was an impossible weight in his voice.

The unshakable conviction of a knight.

Goodwin pointed his sword toward the assassins.

“You need not hesitate.” A grin spread across his face, sharp and fearless. “Raise your sword and strike with every ounce of strength you can muster. Cut down all who stand before you.”

The students inhaled sharply, following Goodwin’s example, and their fear vanished. “YES, SIR GOODWIN!”

The knights charged. The assassins lunged.

Steel rang. Swords flashed free.

And chaos exploded.

Goodwin had barely taken a single step when murderous pressure crashed against him.

The leaders of the assassin landed before him, wind spiraling violently around his body like invisible blades hungry for blood.

“You’re mine. You should feel honored.”

His eyes narrowed into cruel crescents behind the mask.

“You are about to die…” The wind twisted, sharpened, and howled around him like countless unseen knives as he spread his arms wide. “…at the hands of an elite assassin of the Razor Fangs.”

A grin spread beneath his mask.

“And unlike those children who will join you soon.” His voice dropped into something glacial. “I prefer to kill slowly while having fun with my prey.”

The assassin moved first.

With a flick of his wrist—

SHRRRAAK!

Dozens of crescent wind blades screamed toward Goodwin like sharpened guillotines.

“Die.”

Goodwin’s expression did not change. His massive sword flashed.

BOOM—!

One swing.

That was all. The pressure of his strike alone shattered every incoming wind blade into harmless gusts.

But then the assassin smiled a predator’s grin.

“Got you.”

From behind—

SHRRKKK!

A barrage of razor-thin wind knives erupted from his blind spot, shooting toward his back like venomous fangs.

Blood splattered. The blades buried themselves into his back. All the moves the assassin used were designed for the sole purpose of assassination.

“So careless.” The assassin laughed, shaking his head. “Knights are always the easiest to kill. Men so desperate for honor and glory, they throw themselves upon death.”

The wind danced around him as he floated backward to prepare for another attack.

“You fools always mistake battle for honor.” His voice dripped with contempt. “Did you truly expect a duel?” His gaze turned cold. “Did you truly think I came here to duel you? We assassins strike to kill.”

Yet in his arrogance, the assassin failed to notice something important.

There was no scream. No gasp of agony. No desperate struggle.

Nothing.

The assassin blinked. “…Huh?”

Goodwin stood motionless.

His back remained straight. His shoulders square. Head slightly lowered.

Then, slowly, he raised his face. The muscles across his back swelled violently as veins surged beneath his skin.

CRACK.

CRACKKK.

The wind knives embedded in his flesh shattered apart.

The assassin froze.

“…What the hell are you?”

Goodwin turned, fury burning in his eyes.

“How dare you sully the name of knights?”

He stepped forward. And in the next instant, he vanished.

The assassin’s instincts screamed. A colossal shadow loomed overhead.

Goodwin’s sword came crashing down.

BOOOOOOM—!!

The assassin was hurled away like a cannonball, tearing through layers of rock before slamming into the mountainside. Dust and debris erupted in every direction.

“…Damn you.”

The assassin coughed, forcing himself upright. Behind him, the mountain wall had caved inward like crushed paper. Yet not a single scratch marked his body.

Wind twisted around him protectively, softening the impact.

“That actually hurt…” He said, cracking his neck.

Then disappeared like the wind.

Goodwin narrowed his eyes.

Instead of reacting immediately, he slowly exhaled and closed them. Next, he sharpened his breathing.

He focused and listened to the wind. It's minute shifting pressure.

A flick of a second later, his eyes snapped open.

From left.

But instead of blocking, Goodwin turned sharply.

GRAB.

The assassin’s blade stopped cold. Goodwin had trapped it between the hardened muscles of his arm.

The assassin’s eyes widened. “…What?”

BAM!!

Goodwin’s fist crashed into his face with the sound of stone splitting apart.

Blood sprayed from the assassin’s nose as the force sent him spinning through the air.

His mask cracked. His nose cracked. One eye instantly swelled shut.

He slammed hard into the ground, falling unconscious.

Goodwin turned away, resting his sword over one shoulder, as though the battle had already ended.

“Heh…” A ragged laugh echoed behind him.

The assassin staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth.

“You think…” He wiped blood from his nose. “…it’d be that easy? I haven’t even shown all my cards.”

The assassin slowly raised both hands.

The air around him distorted.

“Aural Arts: First Cloud — Firmament of Wandering Clouds.”

Before Goodwin could even turn—

Reality shattered.

The mountain disappeared. The ground beneath his feet vanished, swallowed as if it had never existed.

For the first time in this battle, Goodwin’s expression shifted.

There was no earth. No horizon. Nothing to anchor the eye.

Only sky.

Endless blue stretched in every direction, above and below, left and right, until orientation itself became meaningless.

Gravity felt broken.

Wind screamed upward as Goodwin plummeted through an endless expanse, his massive frame dragged deeper into an infinite sky with nothing to stop him.

Then a figure appeared before him.

The assassin floated effortlessly. A sharp contrast to Goodwin, who drifted helplessly through the void. The assassin smirked.

“Welcome to my domain.”

He lazily floated backward, hands behind his head as if taking a leisurely afternoon nap.

“Let’s see how long a mighty knight survives.”

With a casual flick of his wrist, wind condensed in his palm. A whip of compressed air snapped into existence.

Goodwin raised his sword, steel meeting wind. But the moment the whip struck, it twisted unnaturally, curving around his guard and slithering past it like a living thing.

BOOM!

The impact crashed into Goodwin’s side and sent him spiraling deeper into the endless sky.

The assassin’s grin widened as dozens of spinning wind razors materialized around him, then hundreds more. They descended like a storm.

Goodwin swung his sword, the air rupturing beneath the force of the strike as the incoming razors shattered and scattered into violent gusts.

The assassin frowned.

“…What’s with that absurd strength?”

He lashed the whip again. This time, Goodwin caught it. Bare-handed. Goodwin tightened his grip and pulled hard.

The assassin blinked. “…Oh no, you don't?”

Alarm flashed across his face. With no choice left, he dispersed the whip instantly into the wind.

Goodwin clicked his tongue.

He understood his situation well. He had no way to fly or maneuver while trapped in this endless fall. He had no way to pursue the assassin or force close combat, placing him at a clear disadvantage.

This domain trapped him in an endless descent while the assassin remained untouchable high above.

Distance was the assassin’s weapon.

Like a predator circling its prey, he intended to cut him down piece by piece.

The assassin lifted a hand once more.

“Aural Arts: Second Cloud — Breathless Execution.”

Clouds drifted downward, soft and weightless, harmless enough to seem almost unreal.

Then they changed. A face emerged from the mist.

Then another.

Five. Ten. And still more.

Perfect replicas of the assassin formed from the clouds, surrounding Goodwin from every direction. They moved with the same breathing rhythm, carried the same aura, and radiated the same killing intent. Even their life signatures were identical.

Goodwin narrowed his eyes.

The assassin laughed, spreading his arms theatrically. “Come then, let us see if that knightly wisdom of yours can tell which one is real… or if you are simply stupid.”

The assassin clones attacked at once.

Blades descended from every direction, relentless and perfectly timed. Goodwin moved instantly, steel flashing as he turned, blocked, and parried in a seamless rhythm.

One clone met him head-on while another slipped toward his blind spot, forcing him to pivot before a third lunged from behind.

And somewhere between those fleeting openings, the real assassin struck. He appeared like venom between breaths, cutting once before vanishing again.

A slash opened across Goodwin’s shoulder.

Then his chest. His arm. His back.

Blood drifted weightlessly through the air, scattering into the endless sky like crimson mist.

Minutes passed as Goodwin’s breathing grew heavier.

The assassin floated lazily overhead, upside down, smiling with cruel amusement.

“Oh?” His grin widened. “So, the invincible knight bleeds after all.”

A quiet chuckle escaped him as his eyes gleamed. “For a moment… I thought you were made of steel.”

Goodwin looked at him, still holding his sword tightly, pointing at the assassin and his parade of clones.

Goodwin’s still-determined face frustrated the assassin, as if he still believed he could win, as if he still believed he still had a chance.

“Tch. Don’t you think I have realised by now?” His grin widened. “You have no magic affinity. So, you can’t use spells like me. You just flood the little magic you have through your body like any other brute.”

Goodwin tightened his grip on his sword.

“A knight,” his voice thundered through the endless sky, “needs nothing but his sword and honor!”

The assassin burst into laughter.

“Honor?”

He spread his arms wide toward the infinite blue.

“Look around! You can’t even touch me! Strength alone means nothing here!”

Goodwin looked downward. There was still no ground, only endless falling. Blood drifted from his wounds like crimson smoke.

The assassin’s smile sharpened. “Afraid now, are you? When I am done playing with you, you will fall back to the earth.”

He mimicked the impact with his hand.

“Bones shattered. Organs spilled across the ground. And then…”

His eyes gleamed with vicious delight.

“I shall leave what remains of you for your students to see. Let them look upon their precious teacher… and despair before I carve them apart as well.”

The clones charged again, perfectly synchronized as they formed a deadly pattern around him, striking from every direction.

But this time, Goodwin did not move.

He inhaled slowly. Deeply.

A technique he had once seen a fellow instructor at the academy use.

The world sharpened.

Every movement. Every breath. Every trace of killing intent.

The chaos around him slowed.

Goodwin closed his eyes.

The assassin blinked before bursting into laughter.

“You close your eyes while under attack? Tell me, Sir knight, how foolish can one man be?”

The clones descended relentlessly. Blades carved into flesh as wounds opened across Goodwin’s body. Blood drifted through the endless sky, yet he did not move.

Goodwin stood motionless amid the assault, as though listening to something deeper than sight.

Then, slowly, he raised his sword high above his head.

The assassin sneered.

“You have finally lost your—”

Goodwin moved.

SLASH—!!

The strike came so suddenly that it felt as though the sky itself had been torn apart.

Blood exploded, and a scream followed.

“AAAAAGH—!!”

The real assassin staggered into view.

His body convulsed as he flew up, staring downward in horror.

Goodwin’s blade had carved deep into his torso, stopping only at the bone halfway through.

By luck, his ribs had caught the strike.

“…How?” Blood spilled from the assassin’s lips. “How did you find me?!”

Goodwin opened his eyes. Calm. “You talk too much.”

The assassin’s expression twisted. “It must be a fluke. There’s no way a magicless knight like you can be an Aura Master to differentiate my clones.”

The clones lunged desperately, forcing space between them.

Using the opening, he hid himself again as ragged breaths escaped him.

The domain flickered around them, unstable now.

The assassin felt it immediately. He was nearing his limit.

His injuries were worse than expected, blood still dripping from the wound carved into his torso. And somehow, impossibly, Goodwin had endured far longer than he anticipated.

The assassin wiped blood from his mouth and exhaled slowly. If deception and tricks could not finish him, then there was only one thing left.

His final card.

“So, what if you saw through my clones?” He coughed blood, a dangerous grin spreading across his face. “It doesn’t matter.”

The assassin’s aura exploded outward. The air trembled. The sky itself seemed to distort beneath the pressure.

“This next move,” His voice lowered. “Will definitely kill you.”

Across from him, Goodwin still held his stance without the slightest sign of exhaustion.

Blood ran freely from his wounds. His armor lay broken, his body battered, yet he stood tall as though the countless cuts meant nothing at all.

“Then come.” Goodwin’s gaze sharpened. “Show me whether an assassin’s resolve cuts deeper than a knight’s honor.”

The assassin smiled. “Still clinging to arrogance.”

The winds screamed louder around him, spiraling violently as the endless sky darkened.

“Let’s see how long that lasts for you.”

He raised a hand.

“Aural Arts: Third Cloud—Falling Heaven.”

The endless sky above twisted.

Clouds surged from every direction, spiraling violently as though the heavens themselves had been stirred into chaos. Winds screamed across the battlefield. The sunlight vanished beneath an ocean of swirling gray.

And then a shadow swallowed the battlefield… something titanic stepped through the storm.

Its body was forged entirely from dense storm clouds, towering so impossibly high that even the grand buildings of Grindelwald Magic Academy looked insignificant beneath it. Two academy buildings could have fit inside its frame, yet even that comparison failed to capture the giant’s overwhelming scale.

Its face bore no features. Only two hollow gaps within the clouds, glowing faintly like empty eyes staring down upon the world.

The skies trembled again.

Another mass of clouds condensed overhead, spiraling tighter and tighter until it hardened into the shape of an enormous hand.

Not one. But two.

The giant slowly brought its hands together above its head, forming a crushing double-handed knot large enough to flatten an entire city.

For the first time—Goodwin felt his blood burning up. Even he could not fully conceal the flicker of surprise in his eyes.

The assassin stood right above the sky-swallowing being, bloodied and panting, from his previous thrashing. Yet laughter escaped his lips.

“Hah…!” he wheezed, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. “This is your fault, for pushing me this far.”

The winds roared around him as he raised an arm toward the heavens.

“I’ll admit it.” His grin widened, complete madness taking over. “Teachers of Grindelwald Magic Academy really do deserve their reputation. But this is where your story ends.”

He pointed toward the giant below.

“You should feel honored. You’re about to witness the very technique that brought down the Great Crimson Dragon.”

The giant raised its clasped fists higher. Clouds churned violently around its arms as an unimaginable force gathered above.

Then the colossal fists came crashing down toward Goodwin.

Mountains would have split beneath such force. Cities would have vanished.

And yet Goodwin laughed. Sword resting in hand.

“Don’t put me in the same league as just any teacher of Grindelwald Magic Academy,” he said, lifting his sword onto his shoulder. “There is a reason I stand a cut above the rest.”

The assassin scoffed. “What could you possibly do now? It's game over.”

Goodwin’s fingers tightened around the hilt.

What could he do?

He had been asked that question countless times since the moment he learned to speak.

And for him, the answer had never changed.

Not when he was young. Not when the world mocked him. Not when every child around him awakened talents he never possessed.

Born within a kingdom of knights, Goodwin possessed no affinity to any magic attribute. He could not cast long-range spells, nor manifest barriers or magic shields.

At best, he could strengthen his own body by covering it in magic.

A man cursed by limitation.

He remembered standing in training yards as a boy, gripping a wooden sword with blistered hands while others manifested fire and lightning into miracles.

Yet he had never envied them.

Because to him, magic had never been what made knights and heroes magnificent.

It was resolve.

As a child, Goodwin had adored knights and heroes to the point that he worshipped them.

He remembered all the legends by heart. Of all the impossible battles they fought. The impossible feats they achieved. And the impossible sacrifices they made doing so.

He memorized their words and even copied their habits.

And most important of all lived by their principles.

A knight does not retreat before overwhelming odds.

Their honor became his honor.

Their courage became his strength.

Their principles became his own.

Their dreams became his obsession.

And ultimately, those ideals became the foundation of the man he was.

So he trained and swung his sword.

Again. And again.

And again.

Every single day without fail, until exhaustion stole consciousness from him. Until broken muscles became his routine.

Practice swords steamed in his hands, and winter frost melted around his feet.

His sword swings became so relentless that heat distorted the air around him. Entire training rooms would turn suffocatingly hot from nothing but the sheer friction and force of his practice.

Years passed, and somewhere along that endless road, something in him awakened.

He awakened to aura.

What followed surpassed all reason.

His years of relentless effort gave birth to something unheard of. A form of aura so exceptional, so unnatural, that no one had ever recorded its existence.

The assassin laughed in disbelief.

“You still haven’t answered me.”

The colossal fists descended, devouring the sky.

“I guess it's useless even asking, what could you even do?”

The monstrous shadow of the descending giant reflected across Goodwin’s eyes.

And then he smiled. The same quiet smile he had worn countless times when asked the same question again and again.

A smile that belonged to someone who had long ago accepted a simple truth.

Against impossible odds—

A knight swings his sword.

“So long as I can stand, I will swing my sword.”

“Aural Arts: First Resonance—Legendary Possession.”

Goodwin opened his eyes, but instead of seeing those black pupils, his eyes shone golden.

“I summon Aster, the Skybearer.”

The air behind Goodwin fractured as golden cracks spread across the sky like shattered glass, and from that impossible light, a presence emerged.

A colossal phantom rose behind Goodwin, towering against the heavens themselves.

At first, it looked like a man.

Scarred shoulders draped beneath a battered cloak that drifted through cosmic golden winds. Stars glimmered faintly across broken armor like dying constellations trapped beneath.

His face remained hidden beneath fractured light. Only his eyes could be seen. His eyes glowed with quiet sorrow.

And resolve.

Slowly, the giant phantom raised both hands toward the descending storm.

Golden cosmic giant arms erupted outward from Goodwin like divine projections, massive enough to eclipse entire cliffs. Veins of molten light coursed across them as they slammed upward—

BOOOOOOOOM.

The impact split the atmosphere.

The cloud giant’s double-fisted strike halted inches above Goodwin. Shockwaves exploded in every direction.

The impossible weight of the heavens trembled against unmoving hands.

“…What?” The assassin’s grin disappeared. “That’s… impossible!”

Golden light surged through Goodwin’s veins, aura flooding his body like stars igniting beneath skin.

This was Goodwin Knight’s true gift.

Every hero who had ever lit a fire in his chest. The legends he worshipped. The impossible beings whose stories had shaped his soul.

He could now not only admire them. But now, he possessed the ability to become them.

Not their true selves, nor the entirety of their souls, but manifestations of the greatness the world remembered. Fragments of myth and legend reborn through resonance.

Summoning pseudo-souls and channeling, their will pouring into his body like light through a cracked vessel.

And among them stood Aster—the knight who once defied the death of the world.

Legend said that during the Celestial War that happened even centuries before the Great Wars. When the heavens fractured and rained ruin upon mankind, while kings fled and armies crumbled. One knight climbed the tallest mountain and held the sky upon his shoulders long enough for humanity to escape.

Alone. He died standing—never kneeling, never surrendering to the wickedness of devils. Not for a second afraid to lay down his life for the chance of a better tomorrow.

And now that will flow through Goodwin.

The cloud giant strained against those golden arms—and stopped. With the amount of aural energy colliding wildly, the whole domain was slowly losing its stability.

Goodwin stepped forward, sword in hand. The air bent around the blade.

He inhaled. Exhaled. Then—he swung.

There was no elegant technique, no dazzling flourish.

A single strike born from obsession, admiration, and thousands upon thousands of sword swings.

The blade descended.

And the world cracked.

A soundless fracture spread through reality itself. The cloud giant split down the center. The skies ruptured. The domain shattered like broken glass.

Far above, the assassin froze. A thin red line spread across his chest. His eyes widened.

“…Ah.”

Then—he split apart.

Silence followed. Wind drifted through ruined skies, as reality returned. Goodwin slid his sword back into place with a quiet click.

“Rest in pieces.”

Without triumph, without any grandeur, without even looking back. He simply began walking.

Behind him, the storm collapsed. The heavens cleared. Golden sunset light poured across the mountain.

Waiting nearby were his knight students—bruised but victorious, surrounded by unconscious assassins tied up. One student raised a hand. “Sir, we dealt with the extras.”

Another puffed out his chest proudly. “We incurred zero losses, Sir.”

Goodwin nodded once. “Well done.” He calmly adjusted his coat. “Now then.” His gaze turned toward the summit. “Let us continue our climb to the top.”

They followed without question because that is what knights do.

◇◇◇

“Where were you?!” Miss Xu shouted, pointing accusingly at Goodwin.

Goodwin straightened immediately. “Thank goodness you are safe, Miss Xu.” He placed a hand over his chest in knightly sincerity. “We were ambushed on the way here, but fear not, we have finally arrived to rescue the distressed maiden.”

He paused, then blinked.

The summit was peaceful. Warm lanterns glowed over people eating, and the starry night sky had already settled comfortably overhead.

Miss Xu folded her arms. “We already saved her.” A beat of silence. “You're late.”

Goodwin froze. “What!?”

His students collectively lowered their heads, knowing they had failed their mission.

Goodwin looked toward the horizon, his gaze going strangely distant—then he screamed. “NOOOOOOOOOOO. That can't be possible. What about my knightly duty?”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at absolutely nothing. “…I knew it.”

“What?” Miss Xu asked.

Goodwin folded his arms.

“I had this odd feeling from the very beginning.” He turned to Miss Xu with the gravity of a man who had uncovered a great conspiracy. “Miss Xu, you need to trust me on this. But I believe someone forgot to write about me in the sub-plot.”

Goodwin looked toward the sky with growing suspicion. “…You know who you are.”

“Idiot.” Miss Xu exclaimed.

The mountain wind awkwardly blew past.

“…Whatever. Miss Karin, Miss Alice, Madam Elowen, and everyone else are already here.” She pointed toward the campfire. “The knight students have been climbing for hours. Sit down before the food gets cold.”

Goodwin stood in silence for three full seconds. Then he turned dramatically to his exhausted knight students.

“Knights!”

They straightened instantly. “Yes, Sir!”

He raised a fist toward the stars. “Today, fate might have denied us glory.” The students slumped.

Goodwin continued, “but—” they looked up again, “—there remains honor to be won.” He pointed solemnly toward the food. “At the dinner table.”

The students erupted. “FOOD!”

“Yes, a true knight never leaves his plate empty!”

◇◇◇

The cold hit first.

The moment the teleportation light dissolved beneath our feet, Scarlet Peak greeted us with sharp mountain wind and the scent of newly bloomed moonlight flowers.

Regis exhaled beside me. Ingrid brushed loose strands of hair from her face while Rhea and Hana looked around, still carrying the quiet fatigue of everything we had just been through.

And somehow—everyone was already here.

I blinked. Across the peak, familiar figures stood scattered beneath the darkening sky as lantern light flickered.

It was strange—almost as if some invisible thread of fate had guided us all to the same place, no matter how far apart we had been.

“Alicia, you’re safe! And Ingrid too!” The moment Athena saw us, she rushed forward, relief flashing openly across her face.

“Welcome back, Alicia. I’m so glad the club is back together. Good. That means we can still do it!” Miss Karin said.

“Do what?” I asked.

“The observation!” Miss Karin pointed dramatically toward several metallic instruments. “The falling stars! We still have time to set everything up!”

“Umu.” I nodded.

Truthfully, after everything that had happened, I forgot the reason why we even came here in the first place.

Then I felt it — a stare.

I turned. Noelle stood several steps away, arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes fixed on me. She continuously kept glaring at me.

Did I do something wrong? Wait. What did I even do this time?

I instinctively took a tiny step back. I ran through the possibilities, but nothing came to mind.

Before my imagination could spiral any further, Ione walked over with her usual calm smile.

“Alicia, are you alright?” she asked gently. “We’re really sorry we got separated.”

Then she glanced toward Noelle.

“And… Noelle was worried about you, too.”

“…Really?” I tilted my head, looking back at Noelle.

She immediately looked away with a quiet, “Hmph.”

The coldness in her eyes somehow became even colder.

No matter how I looked at it, that absolutely did not resemble someone worried.

If anything, it looked like she was debating whether or not to throw me off the mountain.

Nearby, Miss Karin suddenly clapped her hands, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Well then,” she said cheerfully, turning toward the second-year student beside us, “why don’t you help out too?”

She pointed at Celes. The girl stiffened immediately.

“Me?” Celes blinked. “I’m not even part of the club.”

“Oh, come on. You helped save Noelle and Ione’s lives. Besides, I’ll show you something so interesting you’ll never forget it for the rest of your life.”

“...Fine.” Celes agreed.

For some reason, she looked oddly reluctant to refuse. Perhaps there was simply a part of her that instinctively knew refusing Miss Karin was a bad idea.

“Let me help too!” Athena chimed in, immediately joining us.

Under the endless night sky of Scarlet Peak, we continued setting up the instruments to watch the falling stars.

Though every now and then, when I wasn’t looking—

I could still feel Noelle staring.

◇◇◇

“Hana! Thank goodness—you’re safe!”

The moment Hana returned, several maids rushed toward her, their relieved voices overlapping. Madam Elowen stood at the center of them all, composed as always, though the faint softness in her expression betrayed her concern.

“I hope you were able to assist your master,” Madam Elowen asked gracefully.

“Yes.” Hana nodded immediately, then paused. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks. “I was helpful,” she said proudly. “But Master was amazing.” Her eyes sparkled. “She did so many cool things.”

“Ah!” Madam Elowen clasped her hands together with delight. “That is exactly the spirit — that awe, that admiration, the unwavering trust one should always hold toward their master.” She placed a hand over her chest dramatically. “You are a prime example of a perfect maid, Miss Hana.” A brief pause. “…At least in theory.”

“I-I will do my best, Madam!” Hana replied, smiling brightly.

Before the conversation could continue, footsteps approached from nearby. Miss Xu walked toward them, her ponytail swaying lightly in the mountain breeze. “Madam Elowen,” she called. “I heard you came here to gather a specific flower. If I am correct, we are searching for the same moon flower herb. Please allow us to help gather them for you.”

A warm smile crossed Madam Elowen's face. “That would be incredibly helpful of you, Miss Xu and the members of the Nature Club.” She gave a respectful bow. “And if possible, could I trouble you for firewood as well? I would like to prepare food for everyone. You all must be exhausted after today's journey.”

Miss Xu gave a small nod before turning toward the gathered students. “Alright, you heard her. The Nature Club will divide responsibilities—first, we gather the herbs for the academy pharmacy and Madam Elowen's famous tea blend. After that, we collect firewood and prepare tents. Everyone will be staying here for the night.”

“Yes, Miss Xu!” All students said in unison.

Miss Xu gave a satisfied nod. Then her gaze shifted—and stopped at one student.

“…Not you, Miss Regis. Before you go,” she continued, her smile perfectly intact while her eyes were anything but, “we have some talking to do.”

The surrounding students stiffened. No one had ever seen Miss Xu look this angry before.

“Y-Yes, Miss Xu…” Regis lowered her head, already knowing exactly what punishment awaited her for running off without telling anyone.

Meanwhile, Madam Elowen clapped her hands lightly, reclaiming the maids’ attention with her calm smile. “Very well, girls! We will prepare tea from the Moon Night Flower to help everyone recover after today's journey and also begin preparing for dinner.”

One of the maid trainees hesitantly raised her hand. “U-Uhm… Madam? Do we even have ingredients? Or cooking utensils?”

Several trainees nodded far too enthusiastically, the desperation in their eyes making their true intentions painfully obvious. Work avoidance.

Madam Elowen smiled—the kind of smile that instantly crushed all hope. “Of course.” With graceful confidence, she opened her dimensional storage purse, and the next moment, ingredients poured out in impossible quantities: vegetables, seasonings, rice, meat, herbs, containers, cooking stations, and utensils enough to feed an army.

The maid trainees stared in stunned silence.

Madam Elowen folded her hands with elegant composure. “A proper maid must always be prepared for situations like these.” Her gaze swept across them all with terrifying gentleness. “Now then—let us get to work.”

“…Yes, Madam.”

◇◇◇

“So, you must be the young lass who healed Miss Xu. I wanted to thank you.”

A knight suddenly approached me.

“Me…?” I blinked, briefly pointing at myself before straightening, then remembered healing Miss Xu.

“Ah, yeah. It was no problem.” I quickly nodded. “I’m a healer from First Year Class S. My name is Alicia.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful. I’m Goodwin Knight,” the man replied with a broad smile.

Before I could respond, Ingrid stepped in beside me.

“He’s the Class S instructor for the second year,” she explained. “And the head of the Knight Club at the academy.”

Without saying anything, I quietly activated my eyes to analyze him. I could not uncover much—only that through relentless training, he had sharpened his body and techniques to an astonishing degree. Yet something about him felt… strange.

Faint traces of different colors lingered around his soul core, layered together in ways that did not seem entirely natural. It almost looked as though several fragments had been woven into one.

And then I noticed the scars beneath his armor.

Without thinking, the words slipped out. “I think you need healing.”

He laughed and waved dismissively. "Ah, these are just scratches here and there. They'll heal by tonight."

I ignored his excuses and cast healing anyway.

A soft flash of light washed over him.

The scars faded, and the wounds vanished. In moments, he looked completely restored.

“Ah!” Sir Goodwin blinked in surprise while slowly rolling his shoulder. “You truly are an impressive healer. I have never seen healing this fast. I suppose there must be something special about you if even Izek vowed to become your knight.”

“You know Sir Izek?” I asked.

“Of course,” Goodwin laughed. “We go way back.”

Before I could ask more — "Ingrid!"

A boy came running at alarming speed, looking moments away from launching himself directly at her. Ingrid immediately stepped back.

"Henrique." Her voice went terrifyingly flat. "Get away from me."

“You’re okay, right?” Henrique asked desperately, completely undeterred. “You didn’t get hurt?”

“Young man,” Sir Goodwin interrupted, grabbing Henrique by the back of his collar and lifting him halfway into the air, “I think we should leave the girls alone now that we know they’re safe.”

“Yes, sir…” Henrique immediately surrendered.

I stared. He must really respect him.

“Alright, girls,” Sir Goodwin said with a smile, already dragging Henrique away. “We’ll leave you to rest. We’re helping the others set up tents. Let me know if you need anything from us, knights.”

And just like that, they disappeared into the growing activity around camp.

Everyone had found something to do.

Regis was currently being scolded by Miss Xu.

Hana busied herself helping prepare dinner with the maid trainees.

Students moved about carrying wood and pitching tents.

Meanwhile, our club waited for the right moment to observe the starfall while sipping the calming tea Madam Elowen had brewed.

Then—

I looked the other way.

It was Rhea.

◇◇◇

Once the red dragons—and the giant crimson dragon—had finally been purified, silence settled over the wasteland.

The oppressive pressure in the air faded. The burning hostility in her eyes disappeared, replaced by quiet exhaustion and relief.

By then, I had already returned to my original form.

The red dragons bowed their heads toward their monarch before retreating into the depths of the lair, following her command without question.

And so, we returned to the others.

The moment we landed—

“Alicia!”

Regis, Ingrid, and Hana rushed toward me. Relief flashed openly across their faces.

“You’re safe!”

“Master!”

Before I could even respond—

A blur shot past us.

“Mother!”

Rhea launched herself straight toward the gigantic Crimson Dragon, and the enormous dragon lowered her head just in time for Rhea to latch onto her scales.

"You're back…" Rhea's voice cracked, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You're really back…"

The giant crimson dragon lowered her head further, gently nudging the tiny girl with impossible care. "…Rhea, my daughter."

Nearby, the Black Dragon stood quietly, golden eyes flickering toward me before settling on the Crimson Dragon. Then the giant crimson dragon suddenly stiffened, her massive body lowering instinctively. "My king… I did not know you were here."

The Black Dragon sighed. "You don't need to do that. You are a monarch as well."

Monarch? I blinked. Wait — monarch?

Only then did it click. The giant Crimson Dragon wasn't merely some powerful dragon staying in these mountains. Just like the black dragon, she was a spirit-realm sovereign. The Crimson Monarch.

The Crimson Monarch slowly raised her gaze. "…Was it your will that saved me?"

"No." The Black Dragon shook his head, then pointed at me. "It was my master."

The Crimson Monarch's crimson eyes turned toward me, and a warmth entered her expression. “You have chosen a fine master, Black Monarch."

The Black Dragon looked strangely smug — naturally.

Then the Crimson Monarch lowered herself and bowed.

"I must thank you, Master of the Black Monarch," she said solemnly. "You saved not only me… but all my kin as well."

"…Ah." I awkwardly scratched my cheek. "It's really fine…"

"Yes! Thank you, Alicia!" Rhea suddenly turned toward me, eyes red from crying yet sparkling with joy. "You really made my wish come true!"

Then — Crack.

Everyone froze. A sharp sound echoed through the quiet, and we all turned toward the egg — the one Rhea always carried so carefully. A tiny fracture spread across its shell, then another, and another.

CRACK. The egg trembled violently. The Crimson Monarch immediately moved, approaching with bizarre gentleness despite her enormous size, carefully, carefully, as though she feared even breathing too hard might hurt it. Then the shell burst apart.

A tiny red dragon tumbled out.

Its little wings popped open awkwardly, it immediately lost balance, tumbled face-first into broken eggshell, rolled once, twice, then sat there blinking. The baby dragon slowly looked up, its bright eyes landing on the gigantic Crimson Monarch.

"…Kyuu?" A tiny chirp escaped it — and without hesitation, it waddled forward on tiny claws with tiny wings, straight into the warmth beneath her lowered body, pressing itself against her scales with an innocent little nuzzle.

The Crimson Monarch froze completely.

Rhea gasped. "My baby brother…" Her voice trembled. "He's born—I'M SO HAPPY!" She nearly exploded with excitement, and even the terrifying Crimson Monarch looked momentarily overwhelmed.

Beside me, Regis finally let out a long breath. "…As emotional as this is," she said, rubbing her forehead, "I think we should probably head back to Scarlet Peak." She pointed toward the sky. "After that display, everyone is definitely looking for us."

"…Fair point."

Honestly, I thought this was where Rhea would stay. With her family, where she belonged. But before anyone could say it, she stepped forward. "I'm coming with you."

We all blinked. "…What?"

She crossed her arms, determination replacing the tears on her face. "I dragged everyone into this mess by bringing them here. I want to apologize to everyone properly." Even after we tried convincing her to stay, she refused to budge — completely stubborn, utterly set on taking responsibility.

Meanwhile, the Black Dragon quietly stepped closer to the Crimson Monarch. Something in his expression shifted, as though there were things left unsaid between them.

"Alicia? Is everything alright?" Regis's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I realized I had been staring toward the forest bordering the wasteland, at the shadows between the trees.

I blinked, then quickly looked away and forced a small smile. "Nothing. It's fine." I guess it’s not completely over. Still, I turned back. "Let's go."

And so, Regis, Ingrid, Hana, Rhea, and I teleported back to Scarlet Peak.

…

"Are you still angry?"

The Crimson Monarch rested near the mouth of the cave; her massive body curled slowly, recovering her energy. Outside, moonlight spilled from the tiny holes in the wall.

"That I defied your orders and stayed in the human realm."

The black dragon was silent for a moment. Nearby, a tiny crimson dragon stumbled across the cave floor, enthusiastically attacking absolutely nothing before tumbling over its own feet.

"…At some point, yes." His gaze lingered on the hatchling. "But now?" He exhaled quietly. "It no longer matters."

The toddler dragon chirped proudly after defeating an invisible enemy. The black dragon stared—a little too intensely.

The Crimson Monarch caught it immediately. "…You seem strangely invested. Are you that happy becoming, what did the humans call it again, an uncle."

The black dragon immediately looked away. "Call it whatever you want." Though suspiciously, he did not stop watching the hatchling.

After a brief silence, his voice softened. "…I only hope it was worth it."

The Crimson Monarch understood immediately—the human realm, the choice she had made two hundred years ago, the mortal dragon she had stayed for.

"Yes." Her expression gentled. "He never betrayed me." The words came quietly. "He made many mistakes. But he learned and changed." Her gaze drifted toward the cave entrance. "He became a good dragon."

As the black dragon continued to listen, he saw the crimson monarch’s smile fade.

"…Just as you warned me, summons are immortal. But dragons of this realm are not. He grew old. And one day…" Her golden eyes softened with grief long accepted. "He left me behind."

The Black Monarch said nothing. He had warned her. But warnings had never softened loss. As he looked at the little Crimson Monarch, he knew what he had left behind.

Eventually, his gaze shifted. "…And the human child?"

The sigh came before the question finished. "You mean Rhea?" The Crimson Monarch gave him a look far too innocent to be believable.

"Do not play dumb." His eyes narrowed. "You once declared with arrogance that you would never take a master."

The Crimson Monarch coughed lightly. "… It's not what it looks.”

“Explain to me."

She sighed. "When I first found her, I planned to leave her near a village. She was tiny and too fragile for a dragon to handle." A faint smile appeared. "Honestly, I intended to leave immediately."

The Black Monarch raised a brow. "But?"

"…Her magic wavelength." She looked toward the sleeping hatchling. "It was strangely close to that of dragons." Then she laughed quietly to herself. "And somehow, despite barely being able to speak, she ended up naming me."

The Black Monarch blinked. "…Naming you?"

“She was barely two months old,” the Crimson Monarch said, a helpless smile touching her face. “She could hardly form sounds—just little babbles. Yet somehow, in between them…” A strange warmth entered her voice. “She gave me a name. Even if it was nothing more than the babbling of a two-month-old baby, none of us will ever truly know what my real name was.”

Her gaze drifted toward the night sky. "She is family now." Then quieter — "And I think it would upset her if she ever learned the truth."

The black dragon huffed. "…I suppose I will keep your secret."

The Crimson Monarch smiled. "How kind of you."

"Do not misunderstand." His tone flattened immediately. "I simply do not enjoy dealing with crying children."

At that precise moment, the toddler dragon tripped over a rock. The black dragon leapt to the baby dragon’s side.

"…You are absolutely becoming an uncle," the Crimson Monarch muttered.

The Black Monarch ignored her. "Enough about me," she continued, amusement returning to her voice. "You finally found another master." Her grin widened. "I seem to remember someone rather arrogantly declaring everyone unworthy after the previous True Demon Lord passed away."

"That was a long time ago." Yet despite himself, something softened in his expression. "This one is… different."

"Oh?" Even the Crimson Monarch sounded surprised. “What’s so different about her. Certainly, she is powerful.”

The Black Monarch glanced toward the distant sky, a strange look crossing his face — half exasperation, half something dangerously close to pride. "Even I struggle to keep up with her."

The Crimson Monarch blinked. That alone was absurd.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "One day, she will rule this world like a real Queen." His voice held absolute certainty. "And when that day comes —" his golden eyes sharpened — "I intend to stay beside her."

◇◇◇

At Scarlet Peak, just as she had promised, Rhea went around apologizing to everyone—to every student, every teacher, every club member she had dragged into the chaos.

Head lowered, hands clasped nervously, she apologized over and over again. "I'm really sorry…"

But somehow, none of it went the way she expected.

"Don't worry about it," one student said with an easy smile. "We're happy to help a fellow student."

Another laughed.

"You students really need to stop forgetting teachers exist. Asking us for help is normal, you know?" One of the teachers said.

"You should rely on us more," another said.

Not a single harsh word or even a stern lecture. And somehow, that seemed to trouble Rhea even more.

She stood there, blinking awkwardly, as though completely unsure what to do with this kindness—as though she had expected someone to be angry with her, or at least scold her, something that would let her atone.

"So, everything you wrote in those letters to lure us here was actually true!"

Rhea flinched slightly. "…Mostly."

It turned out the information Rhea had gathered about the mountain had become the foundation for the entire plan—the falling stars, the moonlight herbs were all real.

"I didn't want to deceive everyone that badly," Rhea admitted quietly.

"If only this hidden treasure was just as real, but that’s expecting too much." Ingrid sighed dramatically, already halfway to crumpling the treasure map. "Guess I don't need this anymore."

Rhea tilted her head. "…Treasure map?"

Ingrid paused. Slowly—very slowly—she turned. "You don't know?"

"No?"

"Then…" Ingrid's eyes widened. "You didn't draw this treasure map either?"

"Nope." Rhea shook her head immediately. "I didn't even know a Treasure Hunting Club existed."

A dangerous spark ignited in Ingrid's eyes. Slowly, she gripped the paper tighter. "You mean to tell me…" Her voice trembled. "…this might actually be real?"

Rhea leaned over. "Oh." She pointed casually toward a rocky slope nearby. "I think the place marked with X is over there."

Ingrid froze. "TREASURE!"

A golden spade appeared in her hand out of absolutely nowhere, and she was gone. Dust exploded behind her as she sprinted toward the spot, and a second later, she began digging with enthusiasm.

Athena clasped her hands together happily, her expression softening. "I'm so happy for her. She might finally get the treasure she has been looking for after all this time."

The mountain sky gradually darkened overhead. Cold wind swept across Scarlet Peak, and lanterns flickered, and before long, it was nearly time.

Miss Kairn glanced at her watch. "Everyone!" she called, raising her voice over the mountain breeze. "Come back! It's almost time!"

Athena gasped. "The shooting stars!" Without another word, both of us ran toward the observation setup.

…

For a while, nothing happened.

The cold mountain wind brushed against our cheeks as everyone sat beneath the endless darkness of Scarlet Peak, warm tea steaming gently in our hands while the observation instruments pointed toward the heavens.

The night sky stretched above us like an infinite sea of black velvet.

Noelle narrowed her eyes, staring upward with focus. "…I saw something." Her quiet voice broke the silence.

A tiny flicker appeared in the sky, so faint it almost looked like she might have imagined it. But then—

"Me too," Celes said immediately, leaning forward.

At first, only one—a single streak of silver cutting through the dark. Then another, and another.

Tiny sparks bloomed across the sky. One became ten, ten became dozens, dozens became hundreds.

Like blazing comets carrying silver fire, the falling stars swept across the sky, leaving luminous trails that shimmered like rivers of light, as though someone had scattered jewels across the night itself.

Silver, blue, and soft traces of gold—a thousand fleeting lights drifting across the sky like brushstrokes of paint across an empty canvas.

For a moment, no one spoke. Everyone simply looked up, silent and awestruck.

"…Beautiful," Miss Xu whispered.

Sir Goodwin folded his arms and lifted his gaze to the sky. “A knight spends his life knowing that tomorrow might be the day his journey ends.” A faint smile touched his lips. “But it is moments like this that remind us why the journey is worth walking.”

Madam Elowen elegantly lifted her teacup. "What magnificence.”

Nearby, even Ingrid had stopped digging. Covered in dirt, hair messy, sweat streaking down her forehead, she slowly looked up.

"…It's beautiful," Regis whispered.

Hana practically bounced in place. "Master! Master! Look! There are so many!" Her excitement spilled over to other students as everyone smiled.

Through the observation instruments, the sight became even clearer, closer, and brighter. The shooting stars stretched across the sky in breathtaking detail, orbiting the world so that countless people all around the world, beyond these mountains, beyond this kingdom, and on every continent and island, might witness the same fleeting miracle.

Athena and I stood side by side, and somehow, for us, it meant more. This was our second time watching shooting stars together. The memory came back naturally —the two of us watching starfall in heaven under the tree of life.

Back then, it had only been us.

I turned slightly. Athena was already looking at me. Her eyes softened, and a small smile formed on her lips. Instinctively, I smiled back.

But this time, we weren't alone. Around us were people we laughed with, and worried for — people who had become precious without me realizing it. Friends, teachers. The loneliness I had once carried in my previous life felt impossibly far away.

It was all because of Athena. Because she reached out her hand and gave me a chance to reincarnate in this new world.

…

Thunk.

A loud metallic sound shattered the atmosphere. Everyone blinked.

Thunk.

A second clang echoed across the mountain.

"I THINK I FOUND IT!"

Ingrid screamed, exploding out of an absurdly massive hole in the ground. Dirt covered her face, but her expression was radiant. Apparently, she had used water magic to soften and loosen the soil, making excavation efficient.

In both hands, she held a tiny chest—small, old, mud-covered.

Ingrid looked seconds away from crying. "I know it's tiny…" she sniffed dramatically, clutching it to her chest. "But I found my first treasure chest!" Her eyes sparkled. "I'm finally going to be rich!"

"Open it!" "Let us see!" "Treasure!" Students immediately crowded around her.

Ingrid dropped to her knees dramatically, clasped her hands, looked skyward, and whispered her wish.

Click. Using water magic, she shaped a tiny shifting key and unlocked the chest. Slowly — very slowly — she opened it.

Her excited expression froze. "…Waaaaaaah…" The sparkle vanished from her eyes. "…hhhhh…" Her soul visibly exited her body.

Inside were stacks of papers.

"…Exam papers?"

A breeze passed. Somewhere in the distance, like destiny laughing at her.

"Nooooooo!" Ingrid nearly collapsed. "Why does this always happen to me?!" In pure heartbreak, she grabbed the papers and flung them into the air, sheets scattering dramatically beneath the meteor-filled sky.

Regis crouched and picked one up. "…I think someone desperately wanted to hide these failed test papers," she said after reading it.

Athena stepped forward immediately, her voice softening kindly. "It's okay, Ingrid. I'm sure we'll find more treasure maps someday." Then, with absolute seriousness, "From now on, I'll help you too. I'll take responsibility for the Treasure Hunting Club."

Ingrid froze. Her lip trembled. "Miss Alicia…" She burst into tears. "You're the only one who believes in me!" And before I could react, she tackled Athena into a hug.

…I didn't like that. At all.

But—fine. Just this once I will let her have it.

Then one stray paper drifted through the air and landed directly in Miss Kairn's hands. She blinked, read it, paused, then slowly smiled. “Let me have these papers.”

"What?" Ingrid sniffed. "Why would you need them? It's just zeroes on tests from some no-name guy named Ed."

Miss Kairn folded the paper neatly. "Oh, don't worry." Her smile somehow became worse. "It's only for a tiny prank." Then, casually — "I'll give you five gold coins per paper."

Ingrid's head snapped upward. "…Deal." She instantly agreed without hesitation, after all, who would ever pay for failed test papers?

…

Far away—

“Achooo…”

A chill suddenly ran down an old man’s spine.

Inside his office, the headmaster of the academy, Eldwin Grindelwald, slowly looked up from his paperwork.

“Why do I suddenly feel like someone is digging dirt on me? How did it suddenly get so chilly?”

He glanced toward the window suspiciously.

“…Did someone leave it open?”

Then he sighed softly.

“I wonder when everyone will return.”

◇◇◇

"Tu. Tu. Tutu…"

Alicia softly hummed to herself, sitting alone at the edge of Scarlet Peak with her legs dangling over the endless drop below.

Far beneath stretched a wasteland, and beyond it an endless sea of forest spread across the horizon. Cold mountain wind swept across the cliffside.

"Tu. Tu. Tutu…"

The quiet melody drifted softly into the night.

"Alicia?"

Athena slowed her steps. She had been looking for her after noticing she had quietly disappeared from camp. "What are you doing all the way out here?" she asked, instinctively pulling her shawl tighter against the cold. "It's freezing."

Something felt off. Athena couldn't explain it — maybe it was the stillness, or perhaps the strange loneliness surrounding Alicia.

Alicia did not respond. She simply sat there, humming, looking out toward something far beyond the horizon.

"…Alicia?"

Athena stepped closer. Still no response. A strange unease twisted quietly in her chest. Carefully, hesitantly, she reached out and placed a hand on Alicia's shoulder.

Alicia suddenly turned. Athena flinched.

"Oh!" Alicia blinked once, as though surfacing from somewhere distant. "I didn't hear you." She smiled faintly. "I was just sightseeing."

Something about the answer felt wrong. Athena forced herself to smile. "Come on," she said gently. "It's cold. Let's head inside."

Then Athena froze, her breath catching. One of Alicia's eyes glowed a soft, radiant blue.

As though her gaze stretched impossibly far beyond Scarlet Peak, beyond the mountains, beyond the sky itself, like she was seeing something Athena could not. Something impossibly far away.

A chill crawled down Athena's spine.

Alicia stood. "We should sleep early." Her voice sounded perfectly normal. "We need to wake up tomorrow and head back to the Academy."

Athena swallowed. "…Right." She turned to leave — then stopped. Because Alicia hadn't moved. She was still standing there, still staring outward, toward something only she seemed able to see.

The blue glow lingered faintly in her eye.

"Alicia!" Athena's voice rang through the cold night. Alicia turned slightly. "Coming…"

Only then did Athena notice it. A small white spider rested quietly resting in Alicia's palm.

For a brief moment, Alicia simply stared at it, her glowing eye reflecting faintly against its tiny body. Then she leaned closer and whispered something too soft for Athena to hear.

The spider remained strangely still, as though listening. A moment later, Alicia gently lifted it and tucked it behind her hair, letting it settle there like an ornament, tying her hair back.

Athena blinked. "…Was that always in her hand?" She genuinely could not remember.

Alicia turned back toward her, expression bright and ordinary again. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Let's go."

The two walked back toward camp. Warm lantern light flickered between tents while the distant laughter of students still drifted through Scarlet Peak.

Eventually, they parted for the night and returned to their respective tents. With an early departure ahead of them, they turned in soon, as tomorrow, they would begin the journey back to the Academy.

◇◇◇

As Alicia's Aural Arts bloomed across Scarlet Mountain, light swallowed the world.

A vast brilliance poured over the wasteland, forests, and distant cliffs, washing the mountains in radiance as corrupted dragons were purified.

Far away, hidden among dark branches, a crow cawed.

Its black eyes reflected the impossible light. Then it turned away—without hesitation, wings spreading as it flew in the opposite direction. Away from Scarlet Mountain.

It flew for hours. Over endless forests, across rivers, past valleys and jagged cliffs, until the borders of another kingdom loomed in the distance. And there, hidden in the middle of nowhere, stood a massive warehouse.

A black sun emblem stretched across its roof.

The crow descended, slipping through a cracked upper window.

Unnoticed, something detached itself. A nearly invisible silk thread slipped from the crow's leg—and a small white spider landed gently atop the windowsill.

The crow continued inward.

Inside, the warehouse stretched impossibly wide. Crates, alchemy equipment, rows of strange containers. Dark-robed figures moved in hurried silence. At the center stood a giant iron basin engraved with unfamiliar symbols.

The crow landed. And instantly—

FWOOOM.

Black flames swallowed it whole, burning brightly.

Within the writhing darkness, images surfaced. The mountain. The dragons. The battle. And then—light.

The old wizard staggered backward. "This…" His hands trembled. "This cannot be possible."

Before him, reflected within the black flames, Alicia's healing radiance engulfed Scarlet Mountain. The impossible replayed again and again. The wizard pressed trembling fingers to his forehead, his face gone pale.

"We must inform the Master immediately."

"What happened, sir?" A younger man stepped closer.

"The mission at Scarlet Mountain…" The old wizard swallowed. "…has failed."

"That's impossible," the younger man blurted. "The Seventh Executor was there."

The wizard's face darkened. "He is no more." His voice dropped. "I believe he was killed."

"…Is that even possible? They are the strongest member, possessing the power of the eternal black sun."

The wizard raised a shaking hand. The memory replayed—a figure dressed in white, power beyond reason, a presence difficult to comprehend. His expression twisted.

"The White Queen." The description perfectly fits the vision.

The room froze.

"…I thought she was only a rumor."

"So did I." The old wizard stared into the flames. "But unless the stories lie, no one else should possess power on that scale." His eyes narrowed. "She is a mystery. We need to determine whether she is an enemy."

Then voices echoed outside. Loud.

Metal crashed, screams tearing through the walls.

The old wizard frowned. "…What is happening outside?"

The doors burst open. A man stumbled inside, breathing hard. "Sir! We're under attack—six people have infiltrated the hideout!"

The old wizard exhaled slowly. "This place has been compromised."

His expression hardened. "All worshippers of the Black Sun are ordered to engage the enemy and stop them." The black flames behind him intensified. "I will erase all the evidence."

From outside, screams continued.

And on the windowsill, the tiny white spider remained perfectly still, watching.

…

BANG. BANG.

The heavy warehouse door rattled violently. Inside, a slit slowly slid open, and a pair of suspicious eyes appeared through the darkness.

"…Who are you?"

Outside stood a ragged boy. Clothes torn, face dirty, hands trembling—and covered in blood.

"P-Please!" He stepped forward desperately. "My friend is injured! We were attacked by monsters in the forest!" He raised his bloodied hands. "If you have medicine or a healer, please help us!"

The eyes narrowed. Then coldly, "Go away. We can't help you."

The slit began to close.

BANG. BANG.

The boy slammed both fists against the door again. "Please! My friend is going to die!"

"I said leave!" The voice sharpened. "Keep banging, and I'll come out there and beat you myself."

BANG. BANG.

"Not until you help him!"

Silence. Then a loud, irritated sigh.

"…Fine." Metal clicked, and the gate opened. "Once I help, you should be gone. Understood?"

The door creaked open. A man stepped outside, glaring, arms folded. "So? Where's your friend?"

The boy blinked innocently. "…Right behind you."

"…What?"

He tried to turn—

But it was already too late. A hand clamped onto him from behind, twisting it in an instant. Except for a small crack, the man collapsed soundlessly onto the dirt.

The ragged boy immediately straightened. He dusted off his sleeves with visible annoyance.

"…Honestly." He sighed dramatically. "I'm getting tired of you people giving a god these ridiculous acting jobs."

Moonlight caught his eyes. Uranus stood there radiating complete irritation.

Nearby, a boy stepped from the shadows in a sleek combat suit. "You are the best actor among us. No one could have done it better," Natsu Ishikawa said casually.

A soft laugh echoed nearby as Athys stepped forward, with silver-blue hair and wearing a deep blue gown. "Oh, come on. You were adorable."

Uranus turned slowly. "…Not you too. For the World God’s sake, I am a god too."

Natsu glanced toward the partially open entrance. "Let's move."

He stepped inside.

The instant his foot crossed the threshold, a magical formation ignited beneath them. FWOOM — red magic circles exploded across the floor, and an alarm shrieked through the warehouse. The entire hideout was alerted to their arrival at once.

"INTRUDERS!"

Natsu slowly exhaled. "…So much for the hero breaking in quietly."

The alarm screamed overhead. Boots thundered from distant corridors as dark-robed worshippers flooded into the hall, steel flashing in their hands.

Natsu rolled his shoulders once, stepped forward, and waited—calm and relaxed, like the dozens of armed enemies rushing toward him were a mild inconvenience.

"Leave the cultists to me." He lowered his stance and rested his sword over one shoulder. "I'll take care of them."

The first cultist charged. A curved blade swung toward Natsu's neck — Natsu moved first. A single sidestep, his sword flickering upward.

CLANG.

The cultist staggered from the impact. Natsu twisted his wrist, turned, and drove his elbow into the man's ribs.

CRACK. Air exploded from his lungs.

Three more rushed from the side. Natsu spun, his blade sweeping low, and the flat of his sword slammed into knees and ankles all at once. Bodies crashed across the floor.

"Too slow."

A spear lunged toward his back. Natsu leaned just enough for the blade to miss by inches, grabbed the shaft, and pulled. The attacker stumbled forward—straight into Natsu’s knee, followed by the pommel of his sword crashing into his jaw.

Two more cultists came at him together. Magic circles ignited, fire surged.

“Tidal Draw.”

Natsu stepped through the fire. His sword swept upward in a wide, flowing arc, and water surged with it — twisting, curling, crashing down over the flames like a tidal wave.

A kick sent one cultist crashing into stacked crates. The second received a fist hard enough to spin him across the stone floor.

But instead of decreasing, the number of cultists kept on increasing. At this point, Natsu needed backup if he did not want to get flooded by the enemy.

CRACK.

Glass shattered overhead. Everyone looked up.

A figure dropped from the rafters—black robes whipping through the air, a thin blade flashing with cold light as it descended. Shou landed lightly and vanished. A silver flash cut through the room. One cultist froze. Then another. Then three more.

For a brief second, nothing happened.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Bodies collapsed almost simultaneously. Shou moved like a shadow.

His blade flickered impossibly fast as he slipped between attackers before they could react. A cultist swung wildly; Shou ducked beneath it, placed one hand against the man's shoulder, and vaulted over him.

Midair, his blade snapped backward. The attacker collapsed. Another rushed from behind—the hilt cracked against the side of his head, and a clean sweeping strike sent three more cultists flying.

The fight ended almost embarrassingly fast.

Silence settled over the groaning bodies scattered across the warehouse floor.

"…Good timing, Shou," Natsu said.

Shou calmly flicked blood from his blade without saying anything.

“Hey, are you trying to act cooler than me, the hero,” Natsu exclaimed.

Before anyone could continue, slow clapping echoed from the entrance.

"Well." A girl stepped inside, entirely unimpressed. "If only someone had been slightly more discreet…" Nozomi sighed. "…perhaps we wouldn't have been caught."

Beside her walked Themis, the goddess of divination.

Natsu frowned. "What exactly did you want me to do?" He gestured at the magical alarm formation beneath his feet. "Find an access card? How was I supposed to know stepping on the floor would trigger an alarm?"

"I guess it was short-sighted of me to think the hero would be equipped with basic infiltration skills," Nozomi replied flatly

“How cruel?” Natsu clicked his tongue as he felt like crying. “Athys, my own sister thinks so lowly of me.”

“Ara. Ara. It's alright, don’t forget you are the great hero of the kingdom of Aquarion.” Athys said, patting Natsu’s back.

“You don’t have to indulge him like that, Athys, otherwise he will never learn,” Nozomi said cruelly with disgust in her voice.

"Well," Nozomi continued, already ignoring him, "let's proceed." She pulled out a crystal pendant on a silver chain, closed her eyes, and activated her unique skill. The crystal glowed faintly. Moments passed in silence before she opened her eyes. "We should be fine. Nothing is out of place."

Nozomi then turned toward a heavy reinforced gate deeper within the warehouse.

The group followed. But an enormous metal door stood embedded in stone. Natsu stepped forward and pushed. Nothing. Shou lightly tapped the surface. "I can try cutting it."

"No." Nozomi raised a hand immediately. "Why do I have all the brutes on my team. Not everything needs to be solved by force."

"It has worked so far," Natsu said carelessly.

Nozomi gave him the evil eye, and Natsu sealed his mouth instantly.

She stepped closer to the gate. Truthfully, she had already seen this moment countless times — again and again, in every successful divination, the mechanism to open the door.

She traced her finger on a certain section of the door, and magic circles erupted across its surface. Lines of light spread outward, the circular formation shifted, and the mechanism groaned as the locks clicked one by one.

RUMBLE.

The massive gate slowly opened.

BOOM.

A burst of black magic detonated mid-air, screaming toward them like a cannon blast. Natsu reacted instantly. A translucent water barrier snapped into existence in front of them, and the blast shattered against it in a roaring spray of steam.

When the smoke cleared, everyone stood unharmed.

"Everyone safe?" Natsu lowered his hand, eyes already scanning ahead.

Shou twirled his blade once. "I will check what’s inside."

"No." Nozomi stepped forward first. "I will handle this."

From the shadows ahead, an old wizard emerged. He leveled a trembling finger at Nozomi, his voice cracking like burning wood.

"Foolish girl… perish in the scorching flames of the Black Torch."

A magic circle ignited beneath Nozomi's feet. Black fire erupted upward, forming a prison of flame.

”The moment you attempt to cast magic, the flames will consume you.” The old wizard smirked. “Now, if you want to save yourself, ask your friends to lower their weapons.”

“Really, trying to use a curse against me.” Nozomi did not panic. Instead, she calmly reached into her dimensional storage and produced a small doll. She tilted her head slightly, whispered something into its ear, then looked up at the wizard and raised her staff.

"Ether Ray."

A concentrated beam of pure energy erupted forward and pierced straight through the black flames, striking the old wizard square in the chest.

THUD.

His body froze. A gaping hole formed where his heart had been.

"…Impossible…"

The flames around Nozomi raged, and were about to consume her. She exhaled once and casually dropped the doll. The moment it hit the ground it ignited, crackling and burning and turning to ash within seconds.

The old wizard's eyes widened. "…You will never defeat the Black Torch…" His body began to burn from within, the black sun emblem on his forehead flaring one final time before his form collapsed into ash.

RUMBLE.

The entire warehouse trembled. Dust rained from the ceiling as cracks spread across the stone beams overhead.

"He must have rigged the place to collapse," Themis said calmly from the side.

The ceiling groaned. A massive support beam snapped.

CRASH — the roof began to fall.

"MOVE!"

Stone and iron came crashing down in waves. Before the debris could hit—Nozomi raised a finger.

A pulse of invisible force erupted outward. The falling mass froze midair.

Then, with a single sharp motion, she flicked. Windows exploded open as tons of rubble were flung outside in one synchronized sweep, and the warehouse cleared instantly.

Dust settled.

“Now,” Nozomi said, already moving, “let’s find the evidence.”

She dashed straight into the archives. Going through the bookshelves, encrypted documents.

All of it scanned in a blink as she searched for the Black Torch’s next hideout or their main branch’s location.

Natsu watched her go. Then sighed. “…Hey, Themis.”

The Goddess of Divination turned slightly.

Natsu scratched his head.

“Is it just me, or has my sister been a little extra prickly today?”

He glanced toward Nozomi, disappearing into the archive stacks.

“Yeah, she's been quite intense these days,” Shous said.

“Is it that dream again?” Natsu asked, remembering.

“Yes. It is troubling her more than she shows. And she has not been able to see what’s ahead in that dream or make any divination beyond that. She is afraid her Unique Skill has stopped functioning. I guess it is my fault as well that I am not able to help her.”

Themis looked toward Nozomi.

“That dream of her there is only one week left. And that is pushing her to act like this.”

Natsu’s expression hardened slightly. “…I’ll talk to her.”

He started walking toward the archives.

"Hey guys, is it just me, or are you all feeling a strong presence too?" Shou's voice cut through the tension.

Everyone paused.

"There." Uranus pointed sharply toward the side window. A compressed gust of wind erupted from his palm.

BOOM. The entire wall blew outward, and dust and shattered stone filled the air.

Something within the dust suddenly moved.

A thin white thread shot from the dust and wrapped around Uranus's leg. Before he could react, he was yanked upward.

"Hey! Bring me down! Bring me DOWN!"

Uranus swung helplessly, dangling upside down in midair. Shou and Natsu drew their swords simultaneously.

From the settling dust, something emerged.

A pure white spider. The size of a pillow.

"…That wasn't in the divination," Nozomi muttered, fingers tightening. "How did it get here?"

Shou stepped forward. "I'll handle it." He vanished in a blur—a flash of steel cut through the air.

CLANG.

His blade struck the spider's shell and stopped dead. A small crack formed on the blade, and then the sword rebounded violently, nearly tearing itself from his grip.

Before he could recover, the spider shifted. One leg moved, and Shou was launched backward like a cannonball, crashing into a stone pillar with a THUD that cracked the structure behind him.

"Shou!" Themis and Athys rushed toward him immediately.

Natsu moved at the same time. "Rain Thread Pierce." Water condensed into dozens of razor-thin streams, shooting forward in rapid succession—like falling rain hitting every vital point.

But the spider easily dodged all the attacks.

Uranus, still dangling, gritted his teeth. "Alright. That thing is genuinely annoying me." He twisted midair, gathering wind into his fist. "Take this for humiliating me!"

Uranus's wind-infused punch came crashing down at the same moment.

BOOM.

A perfect combined strike. It should have hit.

The spider didn't move. Its eyes glowed red—and then a heavy pressure exploded outward. Gravity itself warped. Uranus froze mid-motion. Natsu's water threads collapsed.

Both of them were slammed into the ground at once, pinned by invisible crushing force.

"…Gravity magic?" Natsu gasped.

The pressure intensified. Neither could move. The spider tilted its head slightly, observing them.

"I guess… I'll have to use my unique skill…" Natsu's voice strained under the weight.

Then a voice echoed—not from the room, but directly inside the spider's mind.

"That's enough. Now come back."

The spider stopped instantly. The red glow vanished, and the crushing gravity disappeared as though it had never existed. Uranus and Natsu collapsed onto the ground, gasping.

When they looked up, the spider was gone.

…

In a completely different place, a tiny white spider sat in Alicia's open hand.

She brought it gently closer to her face, gently patting its head. "Good job, Ellie. Now rest."

The spider trembled, the way a small creature trembles when receiving praise from its owner. It curled up obediently and then disappeared into Alicia's hair like it had always belonged there.

◇◇◇

It was the middle of the night.

The camp outside Scarlet Peak lay silent beneath the cold glow of the moon, only the faint rustle of wind moving through the tents breaking the stillness. Everyone was by now asleep in their assigned tents.

Inside one of them, Ingrid's eyes suddenly opened.

"…I can't sleep."

She stared at the ceiling, expression blank. Everything that had happened today refused to settle inside her. Dragons, that strong enemy from the cult organization. And Alicia.

She slowly sat up.

"…No, this doesn't make sense."

What she had seen today didn't feel real. And yet it was. She pinched her arm.

"—Ow."

She blinked. "I have to go and confirm it with my own eyes."

Quietly, Ingrid got up and moved carefully, two steps, and she was at Alicia’s bed.

The two were sharing the tent.

Alicia was there. Sleeping peacefully, curled slightly under her blanket. Completely defenseless.

Ingrid hesitated. "…This is my only chance."

Slowly, she climbed onto the bed and settled astride Alicia's waist, one knee on either side of her. Leaning forward, she braced her hands beside Alicia's shoulders, closing the distance between them until only inches remained.

"…I need to see her face behind the mask."

Soft moonlight slipped through the tent fabric, illuminating Alicia's calm expression and her soft lips.

Ingrid stared. She looked small and harmless—someone who couldn’t even speak for herself—yet she was strong enough to wield Aural Arts and bring down powerful foes as if it were nothing.

Ingrid’s hand slowly lifted.

"…Just a little peek."

Her fingers reached toward Alicia's face. Toward her mask. Toward the truth.

Then a voice spoke. Soft. Sleepy.

"Ingrid…"

Ingrid froze. Alicia's eyes remained closed.

"…this is the fifth time," Alicia muttered.

Ingrid stiffened. "Show me!"

For a moment, Alicia felt a little unsafe there.

Ingrid blurted. "Tell me how you learned Aural Arts! And how you can use so many magical attributes!"

A visible flicker of annoyance crossed Alicia's face.

The next instant—"Ahhhhhh?!"

Ingrid was yanked backward. White webs wrapped around her arms and torso in an instant, pinning her firmly to her own bed. Even her mouth was sealed with a neat strip of webbing.

Ingrid flailed helplessly in place. Alicia turned over calmly and pulled her blanket up.

"Good night, Ingrid." A pause. "We need to wake up early tomorrow."

Outside, the wind passed gently over Scarlet Peak. Alicia closed her eyes again.

As for Ingrid—

"…Mphhmm!! Mphhmm!!"

◇◇◇

̄\_(ツ)_/ ̄ SUPPORT ME IN MY WRITING ̄\_(ツ)_/ ̄

To everyone who is reading my novel and loves Alicia on her exciting adventures in this new fantasy world.

Thanks a lot for all your support! It really means a lot to me.

Till now I have published from volume one to volume eleven for free and I hope to continue to do so even today. I have put a lot of time and effort into creating a story that I always hope you will enjoy reading and have something to think about.

Keeping the text error free takes a lot of revisions and consumes time, but no work is ever perfect. With your support and reviews I know that I have improved a lot in my writing. I know the initial volumes sometimes could be a mess in my disastrous writing and the current writing still leaves a lot to be desired as the story proceeds and new characters keeps popping up. And I intend to take this challenge head on and improve everyday in this year as well.

You can support my writing by leaving a good review on my book on the platform you are reading.

And even now I am asking for a bit more that if you want to voluntarily support my writing then you can do it now.

.

Patreon page Link - https://www.patreon.com/noelelitia

Join discord community - https://discord.com/invite/WUGFUxbpbd

.

I hope that you keep enjoying my work and the next chapter too proves to be to your liking!

Happy Reading Everyone!!!