The journey back to Gelber was different. They were not the same fugitive-like adventurers who had first approached its gates. They moved with a new, grounded confidence, their steps sure and their auras contained, yet radiating a latent power that made the forest creatures fall silent as they passed. The very air seemed to part for them.
As they walked, Sarah's mind was a whirlwind of data and newfound potential. She pulled up her status window, a habit born of both pride and a relentless drive for self-improvement.
Status: Sarah Yamazaki
· Rank: UR
· Strength: UR
· Speed: UR
· Endurance: UR
· Intelligence: S+
· Potential: S+
· Ability: Auto-Battle Mode (45 min. duration); All Combat Skills: High-Grade
A sense of fierce satisfaction washed over her. This was her power, earned through blood, sweat, and the shattering of her own limits. But as she scanned the familiar list, a new line of text, previously unnoticed, glowed at the very bottom of her skill list.
[Passive Skill Unlocked: Infinity Calculation.]
[Description: While Auto-Battle Mode is active, the System's predictive algorithms operate on a recursive, near-infinite loop. It does not merely calculate the most efficient path to victory; it begins modeling every possible variable, contingency, and branching timeline stemming from the host's actions, creating a probabilistic map of the immediate future. Warning: Extreme mental drain upon deactivation.]
Sarah's breath caught. This wasn't just an upgrade; it was a fundamental shift. Auto-Battle was no longer just perfect execution; it was becoming precognition. The potential was staggering, and the cost, terrifying.
Her thoughts were interrupted as they crested the final hill overlooking Gelber Town. The sight that greeted them was not the bustling, vibrant kingdom they had saved from the undead.
A pall of smoke and fear hung over the city. The cheerful banners were gone, replaced by stark, military standards bearing a familiar, hateful sigil: a clenched fist wreathed in flame. Emperor Hiragi's mark. Guards clad in brutalist, fire-forged armor patrolled the walls, their demeanor not of protectors, but of jailers. The citizens moved with hunched shoulders and downcast eyes, the air thick with the silence of oppression.
"What… what happened?" Sarah whispered, her new-found confidence momentarily shaken by the scene of desolation.
Kenta did not answer. He had gone perfectly still. His eyes were locked on the flaming fist sigil, his knuckles white where they gripped the hilts of his swords. The air around him grew cold.
You know that symbol, the voice in his head murmured, no longer a shout, but a cold, familiar whisper. You have seen it painted in the blood of your family. You have felt its heat on the ashes of your home. The one who gave the order… he is here. He has come to finish what he started.
Memories, long buried under discipline and training, surged to the surface. The smell of smoke. The taste of ash. The sound of his sister's final, choked cry. The hot, primal rage of a five-year-old boy, powerless against the inferno.
The dark aura of Yami no Hikari flickered around him, responding to the torrent of emotion. The old, familiar urge to draw the blade and unleash a storm of vengeance, to paint the town red with the blood of Hiragi's subordinate, threatened to consume him.
But this time, Kenta did not flinch. He did not try to suppress the rage or cage the beast. He closed his eyes, turning his focus inward, to the quiet space he had forged at the River of Echoed Selves.
I know, he thought back, his mental voice not frantic, but firm. The rage is mine. The memory is mine. The pain is mine. And the response will be mine.
He deserves to die! the voice insisted, its cold logic seductive. He deserves to suffer as we suffered! Let me out. Let us burn this entire garrison to the ground!
"No," Kenta said aloud, the single word cutting through the tension. He opened his eyes, and they were clear, though shadowed with ancient pain. "We do this my way. We are not the mindless fire that destroys everything in its path. We are the scalpel that cuts out the infection. We will have our vengeance. But we will not become the very monsters we seek to destroy in the process."
The internal pressure did not vanish, but it shifted. The dark aura receded, not out of weakness, but by his command. The voice fell into a watchful, simmering silence. The partner had been heard, and the master had decided.
Sarah had watched the entire internal struggle play out across his face. She didn't offer empty comfort. Instead, she stepped beside him, her presence a solid, unwavering anchor.
"He's the one, isn't he?" she asked softly. "The one from your village."
Kenta gave a single, sharp nod.
Sarah's gaze turned analytical, her mind already running probabilities, her new Infinity Calculation skill itching to be used. "Then we make this count. We don't just kill him. We break his hold on this kingdom. We free these people." She looked at the patrolling guards, estimating their numbers, their patterns. "A direct assault would cause a massacre. The guards are just following orders. We need to be smarter."
Kenta looked at her, the storm in his eyes calming into a focused intensity. "What is your plan?"
"We scout," she said, her voice dropping to a strategic whisper. "We find out who this subordinate is, where he's stationed, what his routines are. We identify the key players. We find a way to cut the head off the snake without setting the whole body on fire. This isn't just about your revenge, Kenta. This is our first real mission. Not for a contract, not for a teacher. For us. For them." She gestured towards the cowed citizens below.
A grim, determined smile touched Kenta's lips. It was the same resolve he had seen in her during their toughest training, now tempered and sharpened. The scared girl from another world was gone, replaced by a general.
"Then let's begin," he said, his hand relaxing on his sword hilts. The warrior and the strategist. The tempered blade and the infinite calculation. Together, they looked down upon the oppressed kingdom, no longer just survivors, but liberators in the making. Their training was over. Their war had just begun.