Shatriv returned with his wife, the one they called the Queen of Black Magic. Her presence alone carried an aura of deep mysticism, her eyes gleaming with knowledge forbidden to many. She listened intently as Jivyuj explained the task, though she already knew what needed to be done.
"I need a relic," she stated, her voice calm yet commanding.
Shatriv hesitated. "Would his blood work?"
She nodded, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "A powerful relic indeed."
Without another word, Shatriv pointed to the nail—the very thing that had fallen, marking the escape of the Titan. She accepted it, her fingers brushing over its surface as dark energy pulsed through it.
And so, the ritual began.
Jivyuj and Shatriv stepped away, leaving the cave and heading toward the hermitage, where Sagishito Gami was introducing the students to Drengvar. The scene was unexpectedly warm—Drengvar, despite his daunting presence, had already bonded with the disciples under Sagishito's care.
"See a Child," Shatriv noted, grabbing Jivyuj's attention.
Jivyuj nodded but remained silent, his thoughts elsewhere. As they entered, their eyes were drawn to the new child they can not recognize.
"Who is that child, Sagishito?" Jivyuj finally asked.
Sagishito gently handed Drengvar over to the other students and approached. His expression was solemn as he explained, "He is the heir apparent of the Glace Syroche. Erythros brought him here after Lunéviel killed his parents. He is an orphan and—"
Jivyuj cut him off, his voice colder than before.
"Lunéviel has already combined the Lunar and Glace Syroche—Lunaglacier. Let's see what we're dealing with."
Without further delay, he sat down, unfazed, and retrieved a set of ancient Sanskrit scrolls. The titles glowed faintly under the dim light:
Lunalis: Chandra (Moon)
Glacis: Barf (Ice)
Shatriv and Sagishito watched in silence as Jivyuj unrolled the scrolls, prepared to uncover the truth behind Lunaglacier—and the chaos it would bring.
[Scene Change, Back to Back Iftit Vs. Yusuf and Bastin]
The battlefield was filled with the scent of scorched earth and molten rock. The clash had been fierce, but now, Saliz stood defeated, his Syroche lying uselessly on the ground with a sharp KLINK!
His body was failing—his lower half molten, fused into the ground. He couldn't stand, couldn't even crawl properly, but his will to live kept him dragging forward, sluggishly, painfully.
Bastin's expression softened with a flicker of hope—perhaps they had won. But the true terror lay ahead.
Ifrit—the beast—was still standing. Though battered and weakened, his physical strength alone was enough to end them. He stepped forward, each movement slow yet deliberate.
Yusuf and Bastin knew they couldn't hold back anymore.
Yusuf's head pounded, veins on his forehead visibly pulsing with intensity.
"Are you okay, Ani?" Bastin asked, concern in his voice.
Yusuf nodded, wiping the sweat off his brow. "Let's end this."
With a roar, he unleashed his final attack—
"Magmos Lavarius!"
The ground trembled. Lava erupted violently, engulfing Ifrit in an inferno. The flames devoured him, his screams piercing the air. His face contorted into something unrecognizable—a twisted, ghostly visage, charred and blackened.
And then—
He began to change.
The fiery monster morphed back into Saliz, his original form. Seeing this,Yusuf's eyes widened. He stopped his flames immediately, emotions overriding logic.
"It's not safe!" Bastin warned, his voice sharp.
But Yusuf ignored him.
He rushed to Saliz—what remained of him.
The sight was horrifying. His body—half burnt, legless, dried blood oozing, his skin blackened beyond recognition. His breathing was nonexistent. His eyes, though normal once more, were lifeless.
Saliz was gone.
The battlefield, once roaring with fury, now stood silent.
Yusuf fell to his knees beside Saliz's lifeless body. His hands trembled as he reached out, almost afraid to touch him—as if any movement would confirm the irreversible truth.
"No…" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the dying embers of the battlefield.
Bastin approached cautiously, eyes scanning for any lingering signs of life, but there were none. The once-mighty Saliz, consumed by his own flames, had perished.
Yusuf clenched his fists, rage boiling within him. "I did"
"I had to kill my own uncle" he slammed the ground, his voice cracking with pain, he cried out and shouted in pain.
Bastin watched in silence. He had seen death before, but this was different. There was something about watching a close person suffering from separation—once a formidable force—die not in battle, but in a moment of vulnerability.
Yusuf kept crying, his wails echoing through the battlefield, raw and filled with agony. Bastin stood beside him, his chest tightening as he watched his friend break down. The lifeless, charred remains of Saliz lay between them, his body barely recognizable.
"Why did God give him such a painful death?" Yusuf sobbed, gripping the burnt remnants of his uncle's robe. His voice cracked with grief. "I killed my own uncle… People will call me a murderer… Why?!"
Bastin clenched his fists, his own emotions welling up. Despite the monster Saliz had become, Bastin couldn't ignore the bond Yusuf had shared with him and everything Saliz did for them these days.
"Yusuf…" Bastin finally spoke, his voice unsteady but firm. "It wasn't you. Ifrit had already taken him. You didn't kill your uncle. You freed him."
Yusuf shook his head violently, his hands trembling.
"Then why does it feel like I lost everything?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words was crushing.
Bastin knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Because you did."
Silence hung between them. The wind howled through the battlefield, carrying the scent of burnt earth and the lingering heat of the fight.
"But you didn't completely lose him. As long as you carry his memory, he isn't truly gone."
Yusuf swallowed hard and gathered up some courage. Finally not crying further.
"We should bury him."
Bastin nodded, and together, as the first light of dawn touched the battlefield, they began to dig—not just to bury a body, but to lay to rest the pain that came with it.
Then, with heavy hearts, they resumed their grim task. Yusuf and Bastin dragged Saliz's lifeless body into the pit they had dug. The earth, dark and damp, clung to their hands as they worked in silence. Just as they were about to bury him completely, a voice cut through the still air.
"There you are!"
They turned sharply.
She came running—Erythros. Her breath was ragged, her face flushed with urgency. "Are you all okay? I was so worried about you both. I've been looking for you for the last two time units, and I finally found—"
Her words faltered as her eyes landed on the Syroche in Yusuf's trembling hands. The crimson stone shimmered faintly, catching the first rays of the rising sun. Her expression shifted instantly—from relief to something between shock and dread.
"Wait… did Luméon give you that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Then her gaze darted around.
"Where's your uncle? You should be away from him, he's—"
She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes locking onto the pit.
A few hesitant steps forward. Then, her breath hitched. The moment her gaze fell upon Saliz's burnt and lifeless face, she froze.
Horror.
A trembling whisper escaped her lips.
"You two…"
She swallowed hard, her voice cracking under the weight of the realization.
".. killed a Titan?"