At the mountain's peak, silence hung heavy over the ashes of battle.
The wind carried only the faint echo of fire and the soft crumble of stone.
Amal looked around, her voice trembling.
"If only I were stronger…"
Sai shook his head, his eyes hollow.
"No. This isn't your fault. It's mine."
Tai stood still, staring down the blackened ground.
"We should go."
Xei, his shoulder bleeding, staggered forward.
"No… we can't. Not yet. We have to bury Master."
Tai turned sharply. "We don't have time."
Sai's voice rose. "We make time!"
But Amal stepped between them, her ash-streaked face hard with sorrow.
"Tai's right… the clock is against us."
Xei's hands clenched around his sword. "So what? We just leave him here?"
Amal looked at the burned horizon, tears slipping down her cheeks.
"Master died because of this journey. If we walk away now, then his death means nothing."
Xei's voice cracked with anger. "Then go ahead! Leave him!"
Sai took a deep breath, his fire dimming into embers.
"No. We'll give him a small burial — something to honor him. When we return… we'll take him home.
Tai exhaled slowly and said, "Okay."
Xei raised his trembling hand toward the sky.
"Flora… please help us."
For a moment, there was only silence. Then — a soft green light began to glow from his chest.
Flora, feeling Xei's pain, stepped out of his body, her form woven from pure ash and nature's warmth.
Her presence filled the air — calm, radiant, alive.
Amal stared at her, unable to breathe. The moment their eyes met, tears began to fall down her cheeks.
"Why… why am I crying?" she whispered.
Flora smiled softly and lifted her hand.
Ash turned to light — light to life.
From the scarred ground, plants and trees began to grow.
Streams of clear water burst forth, weaving down the mountain's edge.
The lifeless battlefield became a garden — a place of peace.
Around Shi's body, flowers bloomed in circles, wrapping him in color and calm.
It looked like heaven — the mountain of beasts and demons reborn into something pure.
Sai bowed his head deeply.
"Thank you…" he whispered.
Flora tilted her head, her voice like a breeze.
"Call me Flora."
They all bowed together.
"Thank you, Flora."
Flora smiled, her eyes glowing softly.
"Go now," she said. "Your journey isn't done yet."
As her words faded, the wind carried petals and light — a farewell from the mountain itself
The wind no longer carried the scent of blood, but the perfume of wildflowers. Rivers shimmered where fire once flowed, and the cries of beasts were replaced by the whispers of leaves.
Amal knelt, brushing her hand across the grass that grew from ash.
"Even in death," she murmured, "Master still gives life."
No one spoke.
The mountain breathed again — alive, reborn, beautiful.