The familiar was gone.
Void fragments still drifted in the air like broken glass dissolving into nothing, the last echo of its existence fading into the forest's breath. Leaves settled. The ground stilled. Only my pulse remained loud in my ears.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then the man behind me finally broke the silence.
"I—I'm so sorry," he said, voice trembling as he stepped closer. "I… I put you in danger. If you hadn't—"
I exhaled slowly and waved it off, flexing my still-aching fingers.
"Nah," I said. "We're soldiers. Or at least… trying to be. We help each other when it matters. That's how it's supposed to work."
He swallowed, shoulders easing just a little. "I see… Thank you."
I turned to face him properly now. "Elrin Mornye," I said. "You?"
"T-Tairi Enon."
I nodded, then my eyes drifted naturally to his waist.
A sword.
Not ceremonial—used. The grip worn smooth. The scabbard scratched and chipped from real handling.
"You've got a sword," I said. "Why didn't you use it back there?"
Tairi stiffened, then gave a weak, awkward laugh. "Well, um… against something that big? An Axiom beast like that? It didn't feel like it'd stand a chance."
He hesitated, then frowned slightly as he looked me over.
"Besides," he added, "you're one to talk. You don't even have a weapon. Did you… lose it?"
"No," I said.
Then paused.
"…It's just—"
Something clicked.
A quiet realization, sharp and uncomfortable.
Ever since I'd fallen into the Sunspire Dungeon, I'd stopped thinking in terms of weapons. No sword. No lance. No shield. I measured myself through magic alone—through Axiom, through logic, through manipulation of reality itself.
I had convinced myself that magic was everything.
That if I mastered it, I wouldn't need anything else.
Perhaps the dungeon had done that to me.
In Sunspire, weapons broke. Rusted. Were lost. Magic, on the other hand, was adaptable. Ever-present. It had become my crutch without me realizing it.
A memory surfaced uninvited.
House Therion.
A wide training yard bathed in afternoon light.
A mentor standing across from me, blade drawn, posture perfect.
"Power without form is wasteful, Young Master."
That life felt distant now. Almost unreal.
I looked back at Tairi.
"Magic's my main thing," I said finally.
He blinked. "Magic? Then… aren't you in the wrong corps? That's the Arcanum Spiral. Why are you with the Vanguard Concord?"
"Magic isn't everything," I replied, already turning away. "Besides… I have my reasons."
Tairi hurried to follow. "Then how do you even know where you're going?"
I slowed, scanning the forest.
"I'm not native to this continent," I admitted. "But there's a herb that grows in this forest—Northveil Reed. Its leaves always lean toward true north. It reacts to the planet's axial Axiom flow."
I crouched briefly, brushing aside foliage until I found it—a thin, pale-green plant, its narrow leaves subtly angled in one direction.
"See?" I said. "Can't miss it."
Tairi stared, then let out a breathy laugh. "You're… something else."
"The pressure got to me," he said quietly. "I panicked."
"It happens," I replied. "Let's move."
—
We advanced north.
Carefully.
The forest never truly let us relax. Every snapped twig sounded like a warning. Every rustle carried the promise of teeth or claws. We moved in short bursts—run, stop, listen, breathe.
Axiom familiars emerged intermittently—smaller ones this time. Wolf-types. Insectoid constructs. Half-formed aberrations stitched together by spell logic.
We fought.
Steel rang. Void scattered.
At one point, a familiar lunged from the undergrowth, too fast for Tairi to draw properly.
I reacted without thinking.
I grabbed the sword straight from his waist and hurled it.
Not at the body.
At the crystal.
The blade spun end over end, catching the dim forest light—
—and struck true.
The Axiom core shattered mid-leap, the familiar exploding into void shards before it even hit the ground.
Silence.
Tairi stared at his empty scabbard.
"…That's not how you're supposed to use a sword," he muttered.
I shrugged. "It's not just for swinging."
Then he laughed—real laughter this time, sharp and relieved. "You're insane."
"Probably."
We kept moving.
—
Hours passed.
The sun began to sink, its dying light bleeding orange and red through the canopy. The forest thinned, trees giving way to rocky terrain.
Then—
The mountain.
Its massive shadow stretched across the land, unmissable now.
The foot of it was already crowded.
From tens of thousands—
Only thousands remained.
Maybe less.
Some were injured. Some leaned on each other. Some stared ahead in silence, eyes hollow with exhaustion. Others never made it—eliminated, unconscious, or broken by fear.
We had made it.
At the front stood General Ignis.
And officers.
We lined up.
Chins raised. Backs straight.
The general walked slowly down the line, eyes sharp, presence heavy. When he stopped in front of me, something compelled me to look.
Straight into his eyes.
I shouldn't have.
He moved.
Just a step.
I felt it a second too late—my balance disrupted, center misaligned. My foot shifted instinctively to keep me upright.
"Stance is still weak," Ignis said calmly. "But…"
He paused.
"…There is potential."
The officer beside him wrote it down.
I straightened immediately, heart pounding.
That pressure again.
Not magic.
Something deeper.
Ignis moved on.
I nodded to Tairi. He smiled back.
We were grouped into platoons.
Squadrons.
Then Ignis spoke.
"You will now be displaced to the military barracks," he announced. "Rest. At 0400, training resumes."
Mages raised their staffs.
The ground glowed, blinding lights from our feet just like what happened earlier this morning.
The world folded.
—
I arrived inside a barracks.
Simple. Clean. Functional.
Twenty-four cadets. My new squad.
After brief greetings, I found my room and sat on the bed, staring at my hands.
No weapon.
No magic.
Just me.
"This is the start of another life," I murmured.
And this time—
I would build myself properly.
From the ground up.