In the Main Infirmary, the air smelled of aloe vera, eucalyptus, and sterile magic.
Phantsin Dawnfire opened his eyes slowly. The vaulted white stone ceiling was illuminated by the midday light. His body felt heavy, as if it had been crushed by a mountain and reassembled piece by piece. Looking down at his own chest, he noticed that the plates of the Aegis of the Void had completely retracted, leaving behind faint, pale purple hexagonal scars across his skin.
The HUD in his vision was dark. The beast slept, sated by the abyssal feast.
Beside him, sitting on a wooden stool, was Lyla Moonshadow. The elf from Terra had deep bags under her eyes that contrasted with her silver hair, but her hands glowed with a soft emerald radiance as she changed the bandages around Phantsin's torso.
"You're awake," Lyla whispered, offering a tired but genuine smile.
Phantsin tried to sit up, but a dull ache in his ribs stopped him.
"Lyla... how long...?"
"Two days," she replied, gently pressing his shoulder to make him lie back down. "You've been unconscious since the Rift closed."
Phantsin turned his head. At the foot of his bed, curled up like a guard dog on a military blanket, was Rikka. The wolf of Umbra was fast asleep, one of her bandaged hands gripping the edge of Phantsin's sheets, making sure her Alpha didn't disappear.
"She hasn't moved from there," Lyla commented, lowering her voice. "Korbin and Zephyr tried to take her to the dormitories so she could rest in a real bed, but she almost bit their hands off. Right now, Korbin is using his earth magic to rebuild the outer courtyard walls, and Zephyr is leading aerial patrols looking for straggling demons."
Phantsin nodded, feeling an immense gratitude for his squad.
"And Vlad?"
"Dealing with the Proctors and the nobility. As the highest-ranking Ignis student left standing, he got the worst part: the paperwork and casualty reports," Lyla sighed. "We survived, Phantsin. All of us."
The mention of "all" made Phantsin's heart skip a beat.
"Eliana?"
Lyla's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but then she nodded toward the hallway.
"You have to see her for yourself."
With the elf's help, Phantsin stood up, careful not to wake Rikka, who was deeply asleep. He put on a clean shirt that had been left over the chair for him and limped down the halls of the high-security ward.
They arrived at a private room, heavily guarded by abjuration runes.
Through the glass of the door, Phantsin looked inside.
Eliana Dawnshield lay in the bed, pale and asleep. Her left arm, which had been pulverized by the Titan, was wrapped in thick alchemical bandages that emitted a steady green pulse.
She was alive, and miraculously, she had kept her arm.
But what unsettled Phantsin wasn't seeing Eliana. It was seeing the small figure curled up in an armchair next to the noble's bed.
Flower Dawnfire was fast asleep. The Staff of the Green Heart rested on the floor beside her, its emerald light now dim and exhausted.
Behind the armchair, arms crossed and wearing an expression of eternal guard, stood Ellie.
The elven maid saw Phantsin through the glass and bowed her head respectfully, opening the door in silence.
"The child consumed herself," Ellie whispered, stepping out into the hallway so as not to wake either of them. "When Lady Eliana was brought in, the Academy's healers said they would have to amputate the arm due to abyssal necrosis. But Flower wouldn't allow it."
Ellie's eyes gleamed with awe and retrospective terror.
"She channeled the Aethelwyrd for fourteen hours straight. She used pure Creation magic to weld the noble's shattered bone and purge the darkness, cell by cell. It was a brutal miracle. She only fell asleep when the last trace of the Void faded from Miss Dawnshield's blood."
Phantsin rested his forehead against the cold glass, looking at his little sister. The girl had kept her promise. She had been the anchor and the cure.
"The Young Master has less pleasant visitors waiting for him," Ellie interrupted, her tone turning formal. "Director Krane has demanded your presence in his temporary quarters as soon as you could walk."
The Main Tower and Therion Krane's former office had been destroyed, so the meeting took place in a heavily fortified military command tent in the back gardens.
When Phantsin entered, he immediately felt the tension in the air.
Director Krane stood before a tactical map of Aethoria, the gears of his magitech arm whirring with irritation. Sitting in a folding canvas chair, looking impeccable as always, was Master Seamo.
"Cadet Dawnfire," Krane greeted without looking at him. "You have unleashed hell upon my Academy."
"Magister Grimshaw was…" Phantsin began, wanting to explain the subjugation ritual.
"We know everything," Seamo interrupted, adjusting his dark glasses. "Grimshaw and that pale acolyte girl have been declared heretics and traitors to the crown. There's a bounty on their heads. However, that doesn't solve your main problem, boy."
Director Krane turned around, leaning his steel fist on the map.
"The Church of Mortanis and the Inquisition are marching toward the capital. They saw the pillar of purple light. They saw the armor. Inquisitor Teos has demanded that we hand you over to be purged. They believe that the demon that saved the Academy is just as dangerous as the demons that attacked it. And politically, I cannot protect you from the faith, Phantsin."
Phantsin clenched his fists.
"Then I'll run. I'll take Flower and Rikka far away from Valoria."
"Fleeing is for cowards, and I don't invest in cowards," Seamo replied coldly. "Besides, where would you go with a little girl and a stray wolf? You would be hunted down like a dog. No, Phantsin. The Director and I have reached an agreement. A military solution to a religious problem."
Krane pointed to a black dot on the northern edge of the map, the northern continent, far from the civilization and luxuries of Valoria.
"Xul'gath," the Director said, the gravity in his voice weighing like lead. "The Fortress of Ash. The most brutal and active battlefront against the abyssal invasion on the entire continent. The Church has no jurisdiction in maximum-lethality war zones; it is the exclusive territory of the military and the Magic Knights who are crazy enough to serve there."
Phantsin looked at the dot on the map. It was a death sentence disguised as military duty.
"I am a third-year cadet. I cannot be deployed to Xul'gath without having passed the Rite of Bellator."
Krane let out a dry, humorless laugh.
"Boy, you annihilated an Omega-Class Abyssal Titan with your bare hands. Consider your Rite of Bellator passed with honors. We are fast-tracking your graduation tomorrow. You will officially become a Magic Knight, and you will leave for the front before the Inquisition reaches our gates."
"Fire is always best forged in hell, Phantsin," Seamo added. "Out there, the Aegis will have all the demon blood it needs, and you will either become an untouchable hero, or a useful martyr."
Phantsin understood he had no choice. It was the only way to keep his family and his squad safe from the Church's flames.
"I accept the deployment," Phantsin said, firm and resolute.
That same night, Phantsin was in his room at The Forge, packing the few belongings he would take to the front. His weapons, his bandages, the light canvas vest.
The door opened. Rikka entered. The wolfgirl wasn't wearing her modified academy uniform. She wore dark leather traveling clothes and was sheathing dozens of daggers into various belts strapped across her chest and thighs.
"The backpack is ready, Alpha," Rikka said, without looking at him, her voice trembling slightly with anxiety. "I heard the guards talking. Xul'gath. It's a cold place. I packed thermal blankets."
Phantsin left his sword on the bed and turned to her.
"Rikka, stop."
She didn't look at him. She kept tying the strap of one of her boots with unnecessary aggression.
"I can hunt in the ash. I'll find water for you. I'll watch your back when the armor tries to bite again."
"Rikka, listen to me!" Phantsin approached and gently took her by the wrists, stopping her frantic movements.
The wolf looked up. Her golden pupils were dilated, filled with a visceral panic. The idea of being abandoned by the boy who had given her a place in the world was destroying her.
"I am your shadow. Where the Alpha goes, the pack goes."
Phantsin knelt before her, meeting her at eye level. It hurt his soul to see the desperation in her face, but he knew that Xul'gath was a meat grinder. If the armor spiraled out of control on the front, there would be no Flower or Lyla to bring him back. He could end up killing Rikka with his own hands.
"I'm not leaving you behind, Rikka. I'm giving you the most important mission of all," Phantsin said, adopting the deep, authoritative tone she respected above all else.
Rikka stopped trembling, and her ears tilted with pained curiosity.
"I'm going to a place full of monsters. But monsters exist here, too. The Inquisition, Seamo, the nobles... they all know my greatest weakness isn't magic. It's Flower."
Phantsin released one of her wrists and pointed in the direction of the Seamo Mansion.
"Flower is going to enter Arcanum Bellator next year. She has the Green Heart. She has more power than anyone can understand, and everyone is going to want to use her, manipulate her, or hurt her to get to me."
Phantsin took Rikka's face between his hands. His thumbs stroked the streaks of dirt and ash on her cheeks.
"I am entrusting you with my own heart, Rikka. Stay here. Become her shadow. Protect her from the nobles, from the Magisters, from anyone who tries to get close. No one can do it like you."
Rikka blinked, and a single tear traced a clean furrow down her dirty cheek. She understood the weight of what he was asking her. It wasn't a rejection; it was a declaration of absolute trust. He was handing over custody of the only thing that kept him human.
The wolf of Umbra closed her eyes, absorbing the order. When she opened them again, the panic was gone, replaced by the lethal determination of an incorruptible guardian.
"No one will touch the pup," Rikka swore. "I will kill them before they even breathe near her."
"I know," Phantsin gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, a gesture of pure affection that surprised them both, but which sealed the pact between the Purple Knight and the stray wolf.
Tomorrow, in The Great Crucible, Phantsin Dawnfire would graduate prematurely before the entire Academy. But that night, in the silence of The Forge, he left his family behind, knowing they were protected by the best fangs in Valoria.