Rain and Akari found themselves sitting in the infirmary, across the room from Akio.
They'd come here instead of returning to their cells—just to talk one last time.
Rain lay under the blanket, staring at the ceiling.
"That was crazy, right?" she asked, thinking back on how quickly Ken had shut everything down.
"Yup, that was insane…"
"Hey, since your soul weapon has something to do with your eyes, could you see him?"
Akari thought for a moment. "Actually, yeah."
Rain looked over, a bit shocked.
"No way. Spill! I couldn't see anything."
"Well, he pulled out that gun on his hip and shot the barrier."
"Oh, I do remember hearing it shatter—I thought that was the snake though."
"It was. The gun weakened it, and the snake crashed through it right after."
"Wow… didn't know he was that strong."
" Wait, aren't you related to him?"
"Well, yeah. But I'm usually... sleeping? I don't really know how to describe it."
"Sleeping, huh… So you don't get to watch?"
"Eh, sometimes. When Ranni slips up."
"Slips up in what way?"
"Like... losing control, I guess. That's how I knew about you before we ever talked."
Rain smiled faintly. "Well, it's about time to switch back with Ranni."
Akari tilted her head. "Already?"
Rain's hair slowly began turning black.
"Well, yeah. She still doesn't even know I exist."
"Then why not just tell her?"
Rain gave a soft laugh. "Now how would I do that?"
Akari could only think:
'Through me…'
The last strand of hair darkened. Rain closed her eyes, still smiling
Rain—no, Ranni—opened her eyes. Her hair was still a mess, the last trace of Rain's presence... and the smile was still there.
Just like that, she was gone. Like real rain—leaving no trace, yet changing everything it touched.
Akari sat quietly for a moment, remembering Rain.
Then she remembered their promise:
Keep Ranni in the dark.
"Oh, you're finally awake."
Ranni's face settled, then shot up.
"I fainted?! Again?!"
'This must not've been the first time Rain had to come out.'
"Yeah, sorry. I didn't know blood affected you so much."
It was the plan she and Rain had agreed on during the fight—
Say Ranni fainted at the sight of blood.
Say they stayed in the infirmary the whole time.
Simple.
The only risk?
Someone bringing up the tournament.
Rain had played along as Ranni there.
Ranni covered her face with both hands, mumbling,
"I'm so sorry. You waited all this time for me… I thought I'd gotten over this."
Akari gave a gentle smile, patting her back.
"Don't worry about it. Some things are harder to move past than others."
Ranni looked up, then down at her hands before sitting up.
"So I was out the whole day?"
"Basically."
"Does that mean you carried me here?"
"Yeah. You're surprisingly light."
"Thanks."
Ranni stood and held out her hand.
"Well, it's late now, right? Let's go back to our cells. I've got some things to think about."
"You sure you don't want to rest a little longer?"
"No. I feel fine—actually, I feel better than ever."
Ranni grinned and flexed dramatically, energy coming back with every second.
Akari smiled and stood up.
"Alright. Let's go."
She hadn't expected her to feel so down about fainting, but she was glad to see her bounce back so fast.
That was one thing she admired about Ranni.
They talked about random things as they walked through the halls, eventually reaching a fork and splitting paths with happy smiles.
***
Akari stood in front of her cell door. Her eyes began to glow.
A grin crept across her face as she let mana course through her twisted veins.
With her soul weapon active, she looked through the door—and spotted it.
A camera.
The door blocked mana directly, but…
"Everything has its weak points."
Tiny cracks. Gaps in the hinges. Pin-sized holes near the locks.
The longer she focused, the brighter her eyes glowed.
"How tedious."
After five long minutes of pouring mana into the room, she sat down and stared through the door.
She knew that this would work. Why would the prison need magic or mana resistant material when the bracelets mean magic can't even be used. It was just an unnaturally sturdy door that could reflect physical damage, not magical.
Thanks to the mana in the air, she could now sense everything inside.
She rested her cheek on one hand and searched for her real target.
There. Four of them.
Disguised as tiles, each held an impossibly small lens—one in every corner.
'Now that I can use magic here, I don't need anyone watching me practice.'
She considered her options.
Blood magic? Too messy.
Healing? Not destructive…
"Wait a moment..."
Akari held out her right hand toward the door. The temperature around her shifted as the mana inside began to change.
Sylvia had used both fire and ice against Rain during their fight.
Akari had watched every move.
Now her body remembered what her eyes had seen.
"Fireball... times four. And an ice wall."
Four small spheres of flame appeared inside the cell, shooting straight for the cameras.
A thin sheet of ice covered the fire detector above.
She couldn't hear the impact through the soundproof walls—
—but she knew they hit.
Finally, she stepped into her cell.
Four scorched cameras hung from the ceiling, useless. Joy filled her chest. She wondered how Ken felt about this, or if he was even watching.
She smirked.
She really just wanted to be able to work on her magic, going two months without it wasn't too fun for her. But after Ken's showing, a small part of her wanted to let him know that he wasn't in control of everything.
Either way, now she could train in peace.
"Ah, how exhilarating. Maybe being a bit mischievous isn't that bad."
****
A young boy lay on a bed, his body wrapped in thick bandages.
Every inch of him burned.
It forced his eyes open—only for the brightness of the room to make him shut them again.
"Ah, you're awake."
The voice was calm. Unfamiliar.
He squinted through the harsh light until his red eyes locked onto a figure standing across the room.
A man in a trench coat.
Long, thick black dreads fell past his shoulders. His eyes were pitch black, heavy with fatigue, but even heavier with something else—an unsettling presence that clung to the air like fog.
The boy tried to sit up.
Pain surged through his body so violently he bit down on his lip to stay conscious.
"You were pretty roughed up when I found you outside the city," the man said quietly. "You're still recovering."
The boy coughed, the taste of iron rising in his throat.
His thoughts were hazy. Distant.
'Internal bleeding', he realized.
His joints felt locked. His muscles—swollen, inflamed.
He could barely move.
"By any chance," the man asked, "are you related to Duke Ignius?"
"A-ah... Yesh…"
The word barely escaped his mouth.
"I see. Then you must be Ren Ignius. What happened to you?"
"A... Mmm..."
The memories returned like broken shards.
Ren Ignius had set out on a mission—with thirty knights at his side—to rescue his sister.
Their destination: Sulnari, the closest allied city to Algoa, buried within the harsh Solaris Desert.
They had traveled for around a month and a few weeks, defeating any monsters encountered with relative ease. Then, on one fateful night beneath the stars...
Something unnatural found them.
A Dire Wolf.
But this wasn't just any beast.
Its fur was pitch black, darker than the night.
Curved, goat-like horns twisted from its skull.
Its eyes—slitted like a cat, yet sideways—pierced the darkness long before it attacked.
The knights had been camped for the night when the low growl shattered the stillness.
Ren was the first to rise.
"Everyone, prepare yourselves," he said, his voice steady—calm, yet commanding.
Torches flared to life, casting light across the dunes.
And then they saw it.
The moment the beast stepped into the firelight, half the squad froze.
Then—
A roar shattered the camp.
In an instant, the beast chomped one of the knights' heads clean off.
"Heathcliff!!!"
Ren screamed as he charged at the beast, the beast locking eyes with him.
Ren didn't care what happened to him at this point, the knight that just lost his life to that… thing. He remembered how Heathcliff would tell him about his family, his 3 year old daughter, how he and everyone else was promised two weeks of vacation after this expedition.
In the short time he's spent with his small squad, he'd gotten to hear all about their lives, and Heathcliff was one of the first to open up.
He tried to gouge its eye out, leaping into the air, but he was pushed to the side by Arlea, his second in command.
"Young master, stay level headed! You are our leader, so act li-"
Before she could finish, the beast bit her lower half off. Her silver helmet fell off, silently hitting the sand as her crimson hair mixed with her own blood.
"No!!"
Ren cried out, his body hitting the ground. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at Arlea's upper half.
"Young… Master, stay calm, don't die."
As Arlea coughed this out, she activated her soul weapon. Ren's eyes widened as he remembered what she said it did.
She was always a selfless person, her soul weapon reflecting that. Chains leaped from her chest and wrapped around each of the wolf's limbs. Those chains could take both her mana and the targets to share it with everyone else.
Whilst Ren was on the ground, the wolf raised its claws, the chains immediately breaking.
Ren knew what this meant. Instant death. If one's soul weapon were to be broken or destroyed, the user would die, as it's their soul.
His heart dropped as he saw her lifeless eyes and broken chains seeping into the sand.
With one swipe, it sliced three knights in half.
Blood sprayed through the air.
Ren's heart pounded, the shock hitting him like a tidal wave. His men—his brothers—were being ripped apart like paper. He had to do something, even if he wasn't willing to do it himself.
"Flank its back—now! Don't face it head-on!" Ren shouted.
Despite the fear and grief clawing at his insides, he gripped his sword and charged.
His crimson eyes flickered to gold—his soul weapon activating. Mana surged through his limbs.
In the past month, Ren had figured out what his soul weapon could do. It was simple.
The more conviction or determination he felt, the stronger he could become. But in this setting, Ren wasn't able to use it to his full potential.
What he was feeling was false conviction. His strength barely grew.
The wolf towered over them, nearly five meters tall.
Three knights targeted its hind legs, hoping to stagger it.
Their blades shattered on impact.
"The hide's too tough!" Ren called out. "Only strike if your weapon's reinforced! Surround it—we have to overwhelm it! It seems to move in intervals—wait for your opening!"
The beast lashed out again.
Two more knights were crushed. Three others flung like ragdolls, colliding with rocks and tents—shredding the camp into debris.
'No..!'
Ren gritted his teeth and struck at its front leg—his blade cracking, but not before leaving a deep gash.
The wolf howled, unleashing a gust so powerful it hurled soldiers backward.
Then... its fur began to glow. The tips shimmered green.
Ren's eyes widened.
"Everyone—GET DOWN!"
Too late.
A sweeping wave of compressed wind magic cut through the camp, a sandstorm immediately starting from it.
It was silent.
And then—thud.
Bodies fell.
Headless.
Blood soaked the sand, and Ren could only watch as the storm consumed his men.
A crimson haze filled the air. The sound of the wind buried his screams.
He was flung backward, buried in sand and rubble—conscious, but barely.
When he awoke, the wolf was gone, the only remainder left of it being a few pieces of steel like fur half buried in the sand.
The desert was still. Silent.
And his unit—his friends—were dead.
Ren could do nothing but crawl, dragging his body across the burning sand, his strength draining with every breath.
Until, finally, the city's edge came into view…
Ren's expression dimmed as he remembered what happened, the man saying,
"You should rest, don't know what happened to you, but your body is done for. It'll be a miracle for you to even be able to walk."
Ren's face was blank, reliving the deaths that he couldn't prevent. He couldn't save even one of his men.
If he couldn't save his own people, how could he save Akari?
Thoughts like these made his confidence waver.
He let his body lay back down and closed his eyes, tears streaming down. The man stared at him before leaving the room, flicking a lighter to light a cigarette.