Elsewhere—
far above the ruined military sky port—
the remaining spectators had already begun withdrawing.
Nobody wanted to stay any longer.
Not after what they had witnessed.
Not after seeing an imperial flagship destroyed.
Not after watching the Demon King's son and a high-ranking vampire tear through half the city's military forces before escaping alive.
The hidden observers moved quickly.
Mercenaries.
Assassins.
Guild scouts.
Information brokers.
One by one—
they vanished into the night.
Among them—
the masked Crossfall woman adjusted her cloak.
Her gaze lingered briefly on the devastated battlefield below.
Burning wreckage still littered the sky port.
Collapsed platforms hung at impossible angles.
Smoke rose endlessly into the night.
"…Well."
She sighed softly.
"I think we'll be taking our leave now."
Beside her—
Syrian remained silent.
Her blue eyes never left the distant horizon where Aldric and Draven had disappeared.
The masked woman glanced sideways at her.
Then smirked faintly beneath her mask.
"You know…"
A pause.
"Next time, it would be best if you ignored certain things."
Syrian frowned slightly.
"What?"
The masked woman shrugged lightly.
"Curiosity."
"Heroics."
"Running toward monsters because you think you're special."
Her gaze returned to the ruined battlefield.
"You keep doing that…"
A brief pause.
"…and one day you'll end up getting yourself killed."
Syrian stared at her for a moment.
Then snorted.
"You're one to talk."
The masked woman blinked.
"…What?"
Syrian crossed her arms.
"You should probably take your own advice."
For a moment—
the masked woman simply stared at her.
Then she chuckled.
A low laugh.
Soft, almost genuine.
"Yeah."
A pause followed.
"I guess you're right."
The wind tugged at her cloak.
Her smile faded slightly.
"See you around, Syrian."
Then—
she stepped backward.
The surrounding Crossfall members reacted instantly.
Shadows swallowed them whole.
One after another.
Gone.
As though they had never been there at all.
Within moments—
only Syrian remained.
Standing alone beneath the smoke-filled sky.
Silence settled once more.
The distant sounds of rescue efforts echoed from the ruined military district below.
Shouts.
Orders.
The cries of the wounded.
Yet Syrian barely registered any of it.
Her gaze remained fixed on the horizon.
On the direction they had escaped.
Slowly—
she looked down.
Her hand was trembling.
Slightly.
Barely noticeable.
But it was trembling.
Syrian stared at it.
Then clenched her fist.
Her thoughts drifted back through the battle.
The rain of blood.
The destroyed flagship.
The endless regeneration.
The way Draven had continued advancing even while his body was being torn apart.
The way Aurelia—one of the Holy Empire's greatest talents—had nearly died.
The way entire groups of bounty hunters had vanished in moments.
A cold sensation crawled up her spine.
A realization she could no longer ignore.
If she had actually tried to interfere—
If she had joined that fight—
If she had convinced herself she could make a difference—
she would be dead.
Not injured.
Not defeated.
Dead.
The certainty settled heavily in her chest.
Syrian exhaled slowly.
"…Monsters."
The word slipped out before she could stop it.
Not as an insult.
Not as praise.
Just as a fact.
Her eyes drifted once more toward the dark horizon.
Toward the place where those two had vanished into the night.
Then finally—
she turned away.
Because for the first time since arriving in Blackwater—
she understood something very clearly.
The storm surrounding those two was only beginning.
And anyone caught in its path—
would either become stronger…
or be buried beneath it.
Far away from Blackwater—
beyond the burning skyline—
beyond the military sky port and the countless forces still converging on the city—
Aldric cut through the night sky.
Black wings spread wide.
The cold wind roared past him.
Below—
a train raced across the wilderness.
Steel wheels screamed against the rails.
Steam and mana exhaust poured from vents along its sides as it tore through the darkness.
Aldric's crimson eyes flickered downward.
Then—
he folded his wings.
BOOOOM!!
The air erupted beneath him as he descended.
A moment later—
both of them landed atop the speeding train.
THUD.
Wind howled around them.
Neither of them seemed affected in the slightest.
For several seconds—
they simply stood there.
The train thundered forward beneath their feet.
Then—
Draven's shadow moved.
A small black head emerged first.
The cat climbed out.
A moment later—
a blue slime was unceremoniously spat from its mouth.
PLORP.
The slime bounced once upon landing.
Then immediately began sliding across the roof, the rushing wind threatening to fling it into the darkness.
Draven reached out calmly.
Catching it just before it could disappear over the edge.
The slime wiggled happily in his grasp.
The cat meowed with clear pride.
As though it had accomplished something remarkable.
Draven stared at them briefly.
Then held the slime against his arm.
The creature immediately spread outward.
A thin blue layer flowed across his skin.
Slowly removing dried blood.
Dirt.
Ash.
And fragments of burnt flesh.
Cleaning him piece by piece.
The cat climbed onto his shoulder.
Then settled there comfortably.
Looking extremely pleased with itself.
Another satisfied meow escaped it.
Draven glanced sideways.
"…Good work."
The cat's tail immediately lifted higher.
Aldric snorted nearby.
"That thing really likes being praised."
The cat ignored him completely.
Which only made Aldric chuckle softly.
The train continued its relentless run through the darkness.
Eventually—
Aldric stepped forward.
Reaching the connection point between two cargo cars.
He dropped down lightly between them.
Draven followed.
Landing beside him with equal silence.
The noise softened slightly here.
The surrounding cargo walls cutting off most of the wind.
For the first time since the battle—
there was something resembling stillness.
Aldric leaned back against one of the containers.
"…So."
A pause.
"Where exactly are they going?"
His crimson eyes shifted toward Draven.
"You did talk to them, right?"
Draven stood in silence for a moment.
The slime continued gently cleaning the dried blood from his neck.
The cat remained perched on his shoulder, watching everything with quiet satisfaction.