"What are you two doing?"
Cilia's voice cut through the tension like a blade made of concern and casual innocence. I turned slightly, still shielding myself from Liz's sudden barrage of fireball-sized temper tantrums, and spotted her standing in the doorway with a tilted head and curious eyes. Her blue cloak was slightly damp—must've been training again.
"Nothing," Liz replied a little too quickly, flicking her hand like nothing had happened. Her flames sputtered out like embarrassed candles.
Thank the heavens. I was finally free. My clothes were only partially singed and my dignity only mildly shattered. I exhaled dramatically, like someone who had just escaped the grip of death.
But then I paused.
Wait.
Hold up.
"Cilia, why are you here exactly?" I asked, narrowing my eyes a little. She usually trained till sundown.
"I just wanted to inform you that I'm heading out to scout the city," she replied, brushing some dirt off her robes casually.
There it was. That confidence.
Honestly, it had been amazing watching her grow over the last five months. The timid little girl who used to tremble when holding a branch now wielded low-tier water magic with controlled precision. That alone changed everything. She didn't just survive in our group anymore—she carried her weight. Heck, Lina and I even relied on her now. And she knew it.
Liz nodded. "Sure. Just don't get spotted."
As they talked, I started slowly…carefully…strategically backing away toward the exit like a ninja on a guilt trip. I figured if I was lucky, I could make it to the hallway before either of them noticed.
Nope.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Liz's voice whipped through the room like a whip. My body froze mid-step. Before I could blink, her hand had me by the collar like I was some badly-behaved cat.
"OK OK—I'm sorry!" I yelped, arms raised.
Her eyes narrowed, practically glowing with the residual heat from earlier. "What are you sorry for?" she asked in a voice that was both amused and dangerously close to setting me on fire again.
"Sorry… for staring at you while you were sleeping," I admitted like a kid caught sneaking snacks before dinner.
There was a pause.
And then—
"I gotta say, you're very dense."
That came from Cilia. I blinked, genuinely confused. Dense? Dense how? I wasn't fat or anything. What did she even mean by that? I glanced at Liz for clarification, but that was a mistake.
She burst into laughter.
And it wasn't the soft, polite kind either—it was full-on, throw-your-head-back, wipe-your-eyes, what-a-freaking-idiot kind of laugh.
"Th-That's enough fooling around for a day," she said, wiping away a tear. "Cilia, go and do whatever it is you want to do."
"Alright!" Cilia chirped, giving me a little wave before skipping out the door.
"…Well, I should be off too," I mumbled, desperate to salvage what little pride I had left.
"Where are you headed?" Liz asked, eyebrows raised.
"To the church," I said, straightening my posture like it was a mission from the heavens. "Time to go play with the kids again."
"Alright. Take care," she said, her voice softer now. There was warmth in that goodbye.
I stepped out into the afternoon sun, breathing in the city's strange, heavy air. It was still haunting how…empty everything felt. The kingdom hadn't changed. People still walked like ghosts. Their eyes still held the hollowness of those who had stopped hoping long ago.
But the Revolution still lived.
We were the last spark.
And soon, we'd set fire to everything.
---
As I wandered toward the church, my thoughts drifted.
How strong was Lina now?
She'd learned to use her fire not just offensively, but internally—to reinforce her own body. Punches hit harder. Dodges were faster. Her movements carried heat and precision. She was fire with discipline, now. It scared me in a good way.
Cilia, too—her water magic wasn't strong in raw power yet, but she'd developed finesse. She could form whips, orbs, even thin threads she used to trip opponents or extinguish flames. She didn't fight to overpower—she disrupted. Controlled. Supported. She was smart. Tactical. Confident.
As for me…
Push and pull—my gravity manipulation—had grown too.
The time delay was reduced; I could activate abilities almost instantly now.
And the weight limit?
Well, let's just say I could stop a boulder mid-air with one hand if I really wanted.
Still… not enough.
Not yet.
---
"Hey, Dalren."
I turned to see the vice-leader himself—Smith.
He was the kind of guy who made you feel like you should be wearing armor just to have a conversation with him. Muscles like stone, arms crossed over a chest that could probably shatter shields, and eyes that scanned like a hawk assessing prey.
His long coat fluttered slightly in the breeze, every inch of him looking like someone who had seen—and caused—a hundred battlefields.
"Do you need anything, Smith?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Oh, no. I just wanted you to help me with something real quick," he said, pausing just long enough for me to feel uneasy.
"…Go on," I said slowly.
"The people I sent to the blacksmith shop are late. I just want you to check up on them. Nothing serious."
Ah. That made sense.
But Smith's brow was furrowed slightly, and I could see the tension in his shoulders. He was worried. I didn't want him to be. He was the kind of guy whose worry usually led to a lot of blood.
"You worry too much," I said with a chuckle, trying to wave it off. "They're probably goofing off. I'll bring them back."
"…Thanks," he said, but his expression didn't ease. Not fully.
---
Before heading off, I stopped by the church.
The moment I walked in, a dozen little monsters disguised as children launched themselves at me like I was made of candy and bedtime stories.
"DALREEENNNN!!"
"Tell us a story!"
"No no, spar with me first!"
"Can you make me float again?"
I laughed, letting myself get tackled to the ground. Their laughter echoed through the church like bells, and for a moment, I forgot the weight of the world.
This…
This was why we fought.