Erythros clenched her fists, her breath still uneven. Even though they had narrowly escaped disaster, anger boiled within her. Baran, still confused, hesitated before speaking.
"What is a Titan, really? The Syroche was never like this before. Tell me, is there any connection between this Titan thing and Master's death?" His voice was firm, but his eyes held a hint of fear.
Yusuf lowered his head again, the weight of guilt pressing down on him.
Erythros exhaled sharply. "I just told you—Titans are Nyxath's pets, vessels for underworld devils like Ifrit. When a Syroche is influenced by Nyxath, it becomes a Titan Syroche. And yes…" She paused, watching Baran's expression closely. "Saliz died by the flames of Ifrit—his own flames."
Baran blinked, taking a step back. "So that's the story…" He muttered, his mind racing. Then, shaking his head, he looked up again. "But if we can't touch it physically, what are we going to do?"
"It's easy. My psychic spells can lift anything without physical contact," Erythros said confidently.
"Oh, nice!" Baran nodded in approval before realizing something. "But can you, uh… just pull me back down to earth first?" He was still floating mid-air, thanks to Erythros' telekinesis.
Erythros blinked, her face turning slightly red. "Oh… sorry, I forgot," she muttered, a bit embarrassed. With a flick of her fingers, Baran gently descended, landing back on solid ground.
Erythros turned to the Syroche and stretched out her hand. "Psychos Telekinesis," she commanded, lifting the broken Syroche into the air.
"See? A kind of black haze is coming out of it," she pointed out.
All three kids stared as the dark mist seeped from the Syroche, swirling ominously.
"It's Nyxath's evil poison," she explained, her voice serious. "We need to purify this."
"How will you do that?" Baran asked, watching closely.
"I won't," Erythros said flatly. "There's no way a human can purify a Titan Syroche."
"Then who can?" Yusuf asked, growing more intrigued.
"Only the Divines can," she answered.
"Divines?" Bastin echoed, puzzled.
"Yup, Divines!" Erythros confirmed. "Baran, if your master taught you spells, then you must've heard about charging before, right?"
Baran nodded. "Yeah, I have."
Erythros's eyes suddenly widened as an idea struck her. "Wait—you were taught spells! That means... you can use the Syroche, right?"
Baran hesitated for a moment but then nodded again. "Yeah. And I know how to charge it too. I've seen Master do it a couple of times. When it stops glowing or functioning, he would say, 'Nyxath, grant me powers,' and then a beam would fall on it, making it shine again. It would become reusable after that."
"Yes I've too seen" Said Bastin vaguely "just when I was spying him while teaching Baran"
Erythros tensed. "That's how it's done, yeah. But from now on, no more calling Nyxath for power!" Her voice was sharp with warning. "From now on, you'll say, 'Luméon, grant me powers.' If you call Nyxath, you'll serve the devils, your body will become a vessel for them to reside in, and you'll die just like Saliz did."
At the mention of Saliz's death, Yusuf's head dropped, his expression clouded with sorrow.
"What's up with these Nyxath and Luméon things?" asked Baran. "What are those?"
"You'll understand later. Right now, I'm short on time—I have to rescue someone else's Syroche," Erythros replied. Then, as if struck by an idea, she turned back to him. "Wait—I have a proposal for you, Baran."
Baran's face flushed slightly. He glanced at Erythros before saying, a little shyly, "What kind of proposal? Please, go ahead."
"Since you know how to use the Phyta Syroche, I want you to join our team—a team of pure Syroche users," she explained. "Would you be willing to help us? We work for a good cause, helping others and purifying or annihilating Titans."
Baran's jaw dropped slightly. That wasn't the kind of proposal he had expected.
"Yusuf and Bastin are already part of the team," Erythros continued. "Will you join us too?"
Baran hesitated, his gaze shifting to the levitating Phyta Syroche. "By using this broken Syroche? And turning into a Titan?" he countered.
Erythros sighed, crossing her arms. "No, Baran, not by using this broken Syroche. You won't be turning into a Titan—unless you want to end up like those cursed vessels of Nyxath accepting his powers— when it will be purified then only I'll allow you to use it, then you'll be Luméon influenced."
Baran gulped, shaking his head. "Yeah, no thanks. I'd rather stay myself."
"I think you're all messed up, you've got my words wrong, Baran." Erythros smirked. "Listen, our team consists of pure Syroche users. We don't let Nyxath's influence corrupt us. We only use the Syroches that are in harmony with Luméon's power. And since you already know how to use a Phyta Syroche, you'd be a valuable addition. So… are you in?"
Baran's heart was still racing from the other kind of proposal he had expected. He scratched the back of his head, trying to process everything. Yusuf and Bastin were already in? That meant they had accepted this mission—this responsibility.
His eyes flickered toward the still-levitating Phyta Syroche, its broken form oozing with black haze.
Baran inhaled deeply. "If it means keeping people safe… then yeah. I'll join."
Erythros grinned. "That's the spirit!"
"So before we go anywhere, let's hand back the Phyta Syroche for purification," Erythros declared.
"Here?" Bastin asked, puzzled.
"Yup, anywhere in the world, you can," she replied.
"But how?" Bastin pressed.
"Watch closely—" Erythros said, releasing the Syroche from her telekinetic hold. As it gently settled on the ground, she raised her hand and commanded, "Luméon, grant this Syroche rehabilitation."
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a golden radiance erupted from the earth, enveloping the Syroche in divine energy. Yusuf's eyes widened in recognition—it was the same light he had seen when he was granted the Magma Syroche. As the glow intensified, the Syroche slowly lifted into the sky, shimmering like a star, and vanished beyond the clouds.
"Wait—where did it go?!" Baran blurted out, completely stunned.
Erythros chuckled at his reaction. "Relax, it's just returned to Luméon for purification."
Baran still looked unconvinced, but before he could question it further, Erythros turned to him. "So, do you need anyone's consent before we leave, or are you ready to go right now?"
"Right now?!" All three boys shouted in unison.
"Of course," she grinned. "But first, we need to make a stop before reaching our real destination. You'll understand when we get there. Oh, and don't worry about clothing or essentials—once you reach India and qualify as Syroche students, everything will be provided for you."
Baran let out a dry laugh. "Do you really think an orphan whose guardian killed himself out of nowhere needs anyone's consent?"
"Can you stop mentioning Uncle's death?" Yusuf cut in, his voice cracking. "It hurts." His eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Baran sighed. "Fine."
Erythros stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Yusuf's shoulder. "Hey, no tears. Strong boys never cry. And you're all about to become warriors! Hold your head high—we're starting from the very beginning."
Yusuf took a deep breath, wiping his eyes.
Erythros smirked. "That's more like it."
Then, stretching her arms outward, she grasped their hands, forming a circle. The air around them crackled with energy as she chanted, "Psychos Teleportus!"
A crimson light exploded from beneath their feet, swirling around them in spirals of raw power. The winds howled, and the very fabric of space trembled. The ground beneath them blurred into nothingness, the city of Bézar fading into a mere echo of reality.
Then, with a final burst of dazzling red light—
They vanished.