A blade flashed toward Adrian with blinding speed.
He barely twisted out of the way. The edge grazed his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood as he slid back into stance.
"Stop standing around like idiots!" Gilbert shouted from behind. "Do something!"
A girl stepped forward hesitantly, her voice shaking. "A-Adrian…? What's wrong with you? This isn't like you!"
Adrian didn't respond.
Fire crackled around them, its glow reflecting faintly in his impassive sapphire eyes.
"Why aren't you smiling…?"
That was enough.
The hesitation broke.
The heroes charged all at once.
Steel clElarad against steel as Adrian moved—precise, controlled, overwhelming. He parried, deflected, and redirected every strike with unnerving efficiency, never overcommitting, never losing balance. Even while holding them back, his gaze flickered repeatedly toward Samantha.
He was watching her.
"Ethan!" Adrian suddenly called out, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Are you really going to let them get away with your grandfather's vase?!"
Ethan flinched.
His eyes snapped toward Adrian. He had never told anyone about his grandfather. How did this bastard get to know?
"…Who are you?" Ethan muttered under his breath.
Blood slowly trickled down Adrian's cheek, but he didn't even seem to notice. Light began to gather around his sword—soft at first, then intensifying, condensing along the blade.
In a single motion, he swung.
The light extended outward, forming a massive arc that cut cleanly through the air—and through the giant chimpanzee looming over them.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
The creature's head slid free.
It crashed to the ground behind Adrian with a thunderous impact.
Gasps and screams erupted from the heroes as golden particles began to disperse, the summoned form dissolving into nothing.
Adrian turned slowly.
His eyes locked onto Ethan.
"Choose," he said, his voice steady, cold. "Your friends… or your grandfather's final memento."
Ethan's jaw tightened.
He looked ahead.
Lucas and Hannah were getting away.
Then he looked back.
His friends were still fighting—still trying to break through.
His hands clenched.
He took a step toward them—
Adrian moved.
Faster than before.
A flash of silver cut through the air. Reyna's sword shattered mid-guard, the broken halves falling uselessly to the ground before a large red line traced across Reyna's torso.
"I will kill all of them," Adrian said quietly.
His voice had dropped so low it barely sounded human anymore.
"If you don't leave. Now."
Ethan took a deep breath as he saw the fire all around him. His breathing hitched as a faint memory of 'that' day played in his mind. His chest tightened as the image forced itself into his mind.
A charred corpse.
Burnt beyond recognition—
But he knew.
"Gramps…!"
His breath broke into uneven gasps as he clutched his chest, struggling to steady himself.
Then he ran.
Behind him, Samantha's voice tore through the chaos. "No! Ethan… please, stay!" She stumbled over her words, choking on her breath before forcing out one final scream, louder than anything before—
"You are going to die!"
Ethan didn't stop.
He didn't turn.
"…Sorry, Sam," he whispered under his breath. "I can't let go."
And he kept running.
Behind him, Adrian stood still, watching him disappear into the forest. His grip tightened around his blade, knuckles whitening as something unreadable flickered across his face.
"…Only you," he murmured.
Ethan closed his eyes as light condensed, shaping into steel as if reality itself bent to his will. Soon, a sword formed in his hand. He drew his arm back, shifting his weight, then launched the blade forward with precision.
The sword cut through the air.
Lucas turned just in time.
The edge grazed his cheek, leaving behind a thin line of crimson. He staggered slightly before steadying himself, carefully lowering Hannah against the base of a tree as he stared at Ethan approach.
"Give me the vase," Ethan said, his voice stripped of everything but cold intent.
Lucas exhaled, steadying his stance.
"Can't do that—"
The world cracked.
Aric's vision twisted violently.
'Not now…'
Darkness bled into the edges of his sight.
"No—don't—"
The scene blurred.
Steel clElarad—sparks flew—but everything felt distant, distorted, as if he were being pushed away from it. It wasn't just fading.
It was rejecting him.
"Wait… please!"
Aric reached out, desperatly grasping for something that was already slipping through his fingers.
He needed to see this.
Would Ethan die? What was Adrian trying to do? What was the truth?
The world fractured.
Cracks spread across everything, splintering into countless shards as the dream collapsed in on itself.
Aric tried to hold it together.
Tried to force himself to stay.
But it was—
Futile.
The dream broke.
Pain surged through him, sharp and consuming, as if something had been torn out from deep within. His very being burned, unstable, incomplete, as the world dissolved into a vast, empty void.
The fractures began to fade.
One by one.
Until—
Only one remained.
For a single, fleeting moment—
Aric saw it clearly.
Ethan stood still with his sword raised, pointing at Lucas, who was slumped against a tree, barely able to stand.
And then—
Nothing.
Against the prophecy, Ethan Blackwell had defeated Lucas Grever.
And just like that—
The dream ended.
****
—GASP!
Aric woke up.
Air rushed into his lungs as if he had been drowning. He sat up abruptly, his breath uneven, chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself.
For a moment, the world felt distant.
Then it settled.
He looked around.
The soft dimness of the room greeted him—familiar wooden walls, neatly arranged furniture, the faint glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains. It was one of the guest rooms in the Maiw estate.
Beside him, Tristan lay sprawled across the bed, fast asleep, his breathing slow and steady, completely undisturbed.
Aric stared at him for a second.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Lucky bastard.
The smile faded almost instantly.
A sharp pain surged through his chest.
Aric flinched.
It spread quickly—like something crawling beneath his skin, radiating through his ribs, his spine, his limbs. Not physical pain alone… something deeper. Something wrong.
The aftereffects.
Whatever had happened at the end of that dream—it had lingered.
He pressed a hand against his chest, jaw tightening.
He could feel it.
That had been the last one. His last dream.
He frowned. They were still so many questions…
'Hannah Clinton. Lucas Grever.'
Whoever they were…
They weren't just random figures in a dream.
They mattered.
More than that—
One name refused to leave his thoughts.
Adrian.
Aric's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…What do you want?"
__________
[A/N: The dream arc is over, now its only Aric. How was Adrian?]