98 Chapter 98
Wonshin shifted, staff leaning lightly against the table. He looked at each of them in turn—Aruno, Rin, Ko. Then, his fingers brushed the wood thoughtfully.
"Are you three happy you met? Finding people you can trust is hard, nearly impossible in this day and age." Wonshin speaks in a serious tone.
I didn't answer right away.
Ko snorted quietly through his nose, leaning back in his chair. "That's a weird question to ask over food."
Rin glanced at him, then at me. She didn't smile, but her shoulders relaxed just a little.
Wonshin didn't react to Ko's comment. He was watching me now.
I set my chopsticks down.
"I don't think about it like that," I said. "If I do, I'll start wondering what happens if I didn't."
Shin, standing off to the side, folded his arms. "That wasn't the question."
I exhaled through my nose. Figures.
Ko leaned forward, elbows on the table. "I am," he said plainly. No hesitation. "Dumb stuff would've killed me a long time ago if I wasn't around him. Or her." He nodded once toward Rin.
Rin looked away, ears faintly red. "You say that like it's an accident."
Ko grinned. "It usually is."
Wonshin's gaze softened—not by much, but enough that I noticed. He tapped the table once with his fingers.
"Happiness isn't loud," he said. "It's not constant either. But when it exists, it leaves a mark. That's what I was asking."
Shin tilted his head slightly. "You're thinking about Daiha."
Wonshin didn't deny it.
For a second, something passed over his expression— nostalgia, maybe. Or regret. It was gone almost immediately.
"I've watched bonds like this shape the course of worlds," Wonshin continued. "And I've watched them end them."
Rin finally spoke. "Are you warning us?"
"No," Wonshin said. "I'm reminding you."
I felt Rin's knee brush against mine under the table. It was small. Intentional.
I glanced at her. She met my eyes, steady as ever.
"I'm not unhappy," I said finally. "That's the best answer I can give."
Wonshin nodded, satisfied. Shin uncrossed his arms.
"Good," Shin said. "Then you'll survive what's coming."
Ko frowned. "You say that like it's a test."
Shin smiled faintly. "Everything is."
The conversation drifted after that— Food cooled. Time passed.
Serenia sat on the edge of a low bench, hands folded in her lap. Yoru leaned against the wall beside her, arms crossed, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. Ryuko stood a little apart, checking the ambient mana like she always did when things felt off. Zyra paced in slow, uneven circles, boots scuffing the floor.
Serenia broke the silence first.
"He apologized," she said softly.
Yoru glanced at her. "Aruno?"
Serenia nodded. There was no bitterness in her expression—only relief. "Not just with words. I could feel it. He was… present. Like before everything went wrong."
Ryuko looked up. "You're sure?"
"I've known him my whole life," Serenia replied. "That distance he had? The edge? It's gone. Or… quieter." She smiled faintly. "My brother's back."
Yoru's lips curved just slightly. "Good. I was getting tired of wanting to punch him and hug him at the same time."
Serenia let out a small laugh, then grew serious again. "He's still changing. I can tell. But it's not running from himself anymore."
Zyra stopped pacing.
Her head tilted, blue eyes unfocusing.
"…That's not right."
Ryuko felt it a heartbeat later—the pressure. Not mana exactly. Something older. Heavier. Like the world itself had tensed.
"Zyra?" Ryuko started.
Zyra took a step forward, then another. "Something's wrong. Something big. It's—"
The wall exploded inward.
A massive beam of purplish-black energy tore through the stone without resistance, silent and violent at the same time, as if reality itself had been overwritten. The air warped inward, pressure collapsing, debris dissolving before it could even fall.
Zyra froze mid-step.
"…No," she whispered. "That's—wrong."
Ryuko reacted instantly, pulling Zyra back as a barrier flared to life. Yoru's scythe manifested in a blink, her stance low and ready. Serenia was already on her feet, heart hammering.
From the smoking void in the wall, a figure stepped forward.
Black. All of it.
Tight, seamless armor clung to his frame like a second skin, absorbing light instead of reflecting it. His skin was pale—unnaturally so—standing in stark contrast to the darkness wrapped around him. Long black hair fell loose down his back, untouched by the chaos around him.
And his eyes—
Pure black. No glow. No color. Just depthless voids that swallowed attention the moment they landed on you.
The pressure hit all at once.
Not mana. Not killing intent.
Authority.
"Hello, girls," Lysrael said calmly.
His voice was smooth, almost bored, yet it carried the weight of something ancient and absolute. Zyra's knees nearly buckled. Ryuko clenched her teeth, forcing herself to stand firm.
Yoru didn't move—but her grip tightened.
Serenia felt it then. Not fear. Recognition. The same cold certainty that crawled up her spine whenever something meant for Aruno appeared.
Ryuko opened her mouth to speak.
Lysrael smiled faintly.
And vanished.
No flash. No distortion. He simply wasn't there anymore—space snapping shut as if he had never existed at all.
The pressure lifted instantly.
Dust settled. The corridor was ruined. The hole in the wall smoked faintly, edges still vibrating like the world hadn't decided how to heal yet.
Zyra swallowed hard, voice small. "That wasn't a warning…"
Ryuko nodded slowly. "No. That was confirmation."
Yoru stared at the empty space where he'd stood. "He wasn't here for us."
Serenia looked down the hall—toward Aruno.
Her chest tightened.
"…He found him."
The girls ran with no hesitation-
Footsteps tore through the corridors—Ryuko in front, barrier already forming, Yoru and Serenia close behind, Zyra struggling to keep pace but refusing to slow. The air grew heavier with every step, pressure stacking like layers of gravity.
Then they felt it.
Impact without sound. Power without shape.
The corridor ahead opened into devastation.
Stone was peeled back. Space warped in jagged pulses. Reality itself flickered like it couldn't keep up.
And at the center of it—
Aruno.
He stood in full armor.
Dark plating wrapped tightly around him, seams glowing faintly as if reality itself had been forged into place around his body. Durandal was locked into form, but he wasn't attacking.
He was guarding.
Ko and Rin were behind him, half-hidden by his stance, Rin bracing Ko with one arm while staring forward, eyes wide but unbroken. Every blast that tore through the space in front of them curved—bent—around Aruno's position, dispersing like water against an immovable shore.
Serenia's breath caught.
That wasn't defense.
That was domain-level authority asserting itself without expansion.
Ahead of Aruno, the fight was impossible to follow.
Shin and Lysrael didn't move so much as disappear and reappear, their clashes registering only as distortions—afterimages colliding, fragments of space collapsing and reforming. No sparks. No shockwaves. Just absence where something should have been.
Zyra squinted, panic rising. "I—I can't see them."
"You're not meant to," Ryuko said, teeth clenched. "They're moving below perception."
Wonshin stood off to the side, staff grounded, posture rigid. His eyes weren't on the clash.
They were on the air.
Then—
A voice.
Soft. Amused. Familiar in the worst way.
"…Still standing, monkey?"
Wonshin stiffened.
No.
His grip tightened on the staff, heart slamming once—hard.
Impossible.
That voice—
"She's sealed," he thought sharply. "The orb never broke. No one told us—no one—"
The voice came again, closer now. Warmer.
"I told you I'd see you again."
Wonshin's jaw tightened, veins standing out along his neck.
"…Daiha."
No one else heard it.
No one else reacted.
Which made it worse.
In front of them, Shin reappeared suddenly—skidding back through space itself, boots tearing lines into the floor that didn't exist a second ago. Lysrael emerged opposite him, all black armor and voided eyes, moving forward without urgency.
Aruno shifted.
Not stepping forward.
Not attacking.
Just adjusting his stance.
The pressure changed immediately.
Lysrael's head turned—just slightly.
Pure black eyes locked onto Aruno.
For the first time since he arrived, Lysrael smiled.
Shin noticed.
"Aruno," he barked, without looking back. "Do not move."
Aruno didn't answer.
He tightened his grip on Durandal.
Behind him, Rin whispered, "Aruno…"
"I know," he said quietly.
Shin stopped retreating.
The next exchange didn't distort space—it collapsed it.
A portal snapped open behind Shin, then another. Then dozens.
They didn't glow. They didn't flare. They simply existed, circular fractures in reality itself, stacked in layered arcs behind him. Within each one hovered a weapon—blades, spears, axes, constructs of forgotten civilizations and unreal geometries—perfectly still, perfectly aligned.
The air screamed.
Shin vanished.
Lysrael reacted instantly, but for the first time he was late.
Shin reappeared directly above him, knee driving down with domain-forced gravity. The impact slammed Lysrael into the ground hard enough that the floor buckled inward, stone folding like wet clay. A shockwave rippled outward, ripping cracks through the corridor.
Lysrael skidded back, armor scraping, black hair spilling across the fractured floor.
Before he could rise—
Shin extended one hand.
The portals flared.
Weapons launched.
Not thrown—deployed.
They screamed forward in perfect sequence, not all at once but in calculated waves, each one timed to intercept, redirect, and seal movement. Lysrael twisted, space folding around him, but the barrage adapted, portals reopening mid-flight to change angles, to correct.
Pinned.
For half a second—
Shin stood above him, steady, eyes burning.
"That's enough," Shin said coldly. "You've had decades to stay dead."
The weapons hovered inches from Lysrael's body, vibrating with restrained force.
Shin's gaze sharpened. "What do you want, Lysrael? After all this time."
Silence.
Then—
Lysrael laughed.
Not loudly. Not mockingly.
Amused.
The weapons froze.
Not stopped—acknowledged.
Slowly, Lysrael rose to one knee, then to his feet, the blades parting just enough to allow it, as if reality itself had decided to give him room.
"Straight to the point," Lysrael said calmly. "Typical."
Shin didn't lower his hand. "Answer."
Lysrael's pure black eyes slid—not to Shin—but past him.
Toward the shadows.
Shin followed his gaze.
And felt it.
A presence that should not exist.
His breath hitched—not in fear, but disbelief.
"…No," Shin muttered.
From the warped edge of the corridor, where light refused to settle, a figure stepped forward.
Purple-black energy curled lazily around her boots.
Long purple hair. Green eyes. A smile that hadn't softened with time.
Daiha.
She stretched slightly, like someone waking from a long sleep. "Wow," she said lightly. "You really upgraded your tricks."
Shin stared.
His portals wavered—not collapsing, but hesitating.
"That's impossible," he said slowly. "You were sealed. The orb—"
"I know," Daiha interrupted, tilting her head. "It was very uncomfortable."
Wonshin's staff slammed into the ground.
The sound cut through everything.
Her eyes flicked to him, smile widening. "Oh. monkey stop being dramatic."
Lysrael finally stepped fully clear of the weapons, brushing imaginary dust from his armor. "You see?" he said to Shin. "Time changes things. Seals break. Truths surface."
Shin clenched his jaw, portals stabilizing again behind him.
"…So this is it," he said. "The two of you. Together again."
Daiha's gaze drifted past him.
Past Wonshin.
Past the girls.
It landed on Aruno.
Her smile vanished.
For the first time since she arrived, Daiha didn't look amused.
"…So that's him," she murmured.
Aruno didn't move.
One moment she stood across the fractured corridor—
the next, she was directly in front of Aruno.
Close enough that Rin inhaled sharply.
Daiha reached for him.
Her fingers passed through empty space.
She froze.
Her hand moved again—faster this time, sharper, nails curling with intent.
Nothing.
Aruno hadn't moved.
He was still standing in the same place, armor gleaming faintly, posture unchanged.
Sub-Octave.
Daiha's eyes twitched.
"…You're doing it on purpose," she said.
She reached again, this time flooding the space with pressure—dense, suffocating mana meant to force contact.
Still nothing.
Aruno looked at her calmly. "You can't touch what isn't registering."
Her smile broke.
Veins of purple-black energy flared across her arm.
"Then I'll break what is."
She didn't turn.
She didn't gesture.
She released.
The pressure detonated outward like a god's breath.
Ko and Rin were hit instantly.
The ground cratered beneath them as they were slammed back, bodies skidding hard across stone. Rin cried out as she hit the wall, Ko grunting as he rolled, barely managing to twist to shield her.
"Rin—!" Ko shouted.
Aruno's presence spiked.
The Sub-Octave wavered—not breaking, but reacting.
Daiha laughed, sharp and delighted. "There it is."
Wonshin moved.
His staff split apart mid-motion, reforming into a spear of condensed force. He hurled it with everything he had—trajectory perfect, intent lethal.
The spear screamed toward Daiha.
She glanced at it.
And twisted her wrist.
The spear reversed direction instantly, space folding around its path.
Wonshin barely had time to widen his eyes before it came back at him—
Shin appeared between them.
Two fingers snapped closed around the spear's shaft.
The impact thundered through the corridor.
Shin didn't look at Wonshin.
His eyes were locked on Lysrael.
"…Enough," Shin said.
Lysrael chuckled. "You're emotional."
Shin raised his hand.
The portals behind him opened fully.
Not dozens.
Hundreds.
The weapons didn't hover this time.
They roared.
Every construct, blade, lance, and impossible armament launched at once—an annihilation pattern so dense it erased the air itself.
Lysrael's smile finally faltered.
He moved—fast, impossibly fast—but there was nowhere to go. Portals opened ahead of him, behind him, inside his escape vectors. Space betrayed him at every turn.
The impact was catastrophic.
The corridor vanished in a blinding collapse of force, light and shadow tearing through one another as the weapons struck, detonated, and folded back into nothing.
When the dust settled—
Lysrael lay motionless in the crater.
Armor cracked.
Hair spilled across the stone.
Pure black eyes closed.
Unconscious.
Or so it seemed.
Shin lowered his hand slowly, breath controlled, portals dissolving one by one.
The silence was heavy. Wrong.
Daiha stared at Lysrael's fallen form, then clicked her tongue.
"…Tch. You always overdo it."
Her gaze slid back to Aruno.
This time, there was no amusement left.
Only interest.
And something far more dangerous.
"Fine," she said softly. "If I can't touch you yet…"
Her smile returned—thin, deliberate.
"I'll just wait until you step back into the world."
Aruno didn't respond.
But the air around him tightened.
Squeezing the life from Aruno-
I had to move, to step back into the world of existence..
Daiha still smiling— "There you are."
Aruno was already in front of Rin and Ko, armor fully manifested now, Durandal humming low at his side. The residual pressure from Daiha's earlier release slammed into him instead, dispersing across his plating in violent ripples of force.
Rin coughed, pushing herself upright. "Aruno—!"
"I've got it," he said, voice steady. "Stay back."
Ko staggered to his feet, shaking his head. "Like hell I'm staying back—"
Daiha blurred forward.
Aruno met her.
Steel and magic collided in a thunderclap that split the ground between them, the shockwave tearing through the ruined corridor and blowing out what little structure remained. Aruno didn't retreat. He absorbed the impact, boots grinding against stone as Durandal carved a stabilizing arc through the space between them.
Daiha laughed as she fought him, every movement aggressive, intimate, like she was testing how close she could get without breaking him.
"Truly are Ryū's child, I'll make sure you die," she said.
Aruno's blade came up, forcing her back a step. "Why does everyone want me, I don't even know who you are?!"
"Oh?" She tilted her head. "And you shouldn't exist the way you do."
Behind him, Ko swore. "Right—right, okay, I completely forgot I got this back then."
He thrust his hand out instinctively.
"Chentu—!"
The spear manifested in a burst of light, slamming into his grip like it had been waiting. Ko hurled it without hesitation, trajectory perfect, timing sharp.
Daiha twisted mid-motion, barely avoiding the spear as it tore past her shoulder, ripping a clean gouge through the stone behind her.
Her eyes flicked to Ko.
"…You brought toys."
Wonshin and Shin appeared beside Ko and Rin in the same instant.
Shin's gaze tracked Daiha carefully, then shifted to Aruno.
"…No point," Shin said quietly.
Wonshin nodded, tightening his grip on his staff. "If we interfere, we die."
Or worse.
Aruno was already fighting her on a level the rest of them couldn't survive standing near.
Daiha surged forward again, this time closing the distance completely. She slipped inside Aruno's guard—not overpowering him, not out-speeding him—
grabbing him.
Her hand locked onto his armor, fingers biting through layered defenses like they weren't there.
Aruno's eyes widened slightly.
The world lurched.
Space screamed.
The corridor collapsed inward as Daiha twisted reality around them, not teleporting—but dragging.
Snow replaced stone.
Cold slammed into Aruno's senses as they burst out into open air, the ground crunching beneath their feet as they skidded across a frozen expanse. Wind howled violently, white flurries tearing sideways across a vast, empty tundra.
Mountains loomed in the distance, half-buried under ice.
Daiha released him, landing lightly a dozen meters away, boots sinking into snow that hissed and steamed where her mana touched it.
Aruno steadied himself, breath fogging instantly.
The cold was real.
Unforgiving.
Daiha straightened, arms relaxed at her sides, eyes gleaming.
"Better," she said. "No distractions."
Aruno raised Durandal, armor locking into place fully now.
Snow flattened in a wide radius around him as his presence settled.
"You wanted me," he said. "Now you've got me."
Daiha's smile sharpened.
"Oh, Aruno," she replied softly.
"I've always had you."
The sky split.
Wonshin dropped out of it like a meteor.
No portal flare. No warning chant. Just raw momentum and intent.
His heel came down square into Daiha's back.
The impact was catastrophic.
Snow and ice detonated outward as Daiha was driven straight into the ground, the frozen earth collapsing beneath her in a deep crater. The shockwave rippled across the tundra, flattening snow for hundreds of meters.
Aruno didn't hesitate. He moved in instantly, blade raised, pressure surging.
Wonshin landed beside him, breath steady, staff already reforming in his grip.
"Don't make this complicated," Wonshin said coldly, eyes locked on Daiha's buried form. "Leave him out of it."
For half a second—
It looked like they had her.
Then clapping echoed across the snow.
Slow. Lazy.
"…Wow," a voice said. "I leave for one afternoon."
A figure stepped out of thin air a short distance away, hands in his pockets, expression somewhere between annoyed and impressed.
Choi Junyeong.
His coat was half-open, hair slightly disheveled, aura relaxed in the way only someone who absolutely shouldn't be relaxed right now could manage.
"I was in a city," he continued. "Cooking dinner. With a very beautiful woman. Very important evening." He looked around at the ruined tundra, the shattered horizon, the distant spatial scars still bleeding light.
Then his eyes landed on Daiha.
His expression froze.
"Oh is that Lysrael's corpse..? I was expecting him to appear any time now, since Aruno killed Caelith…"
"…Why is she here.. how is she here?"
His gaze snapped to Aruno. Then to Wonshin. Then back to Daiha.
"And where the hell is the base?"
No one answered.
Because Daiha was standing up.
Not injured. Not rushed.
Amused.
She brushed snow from her shoulder and looked at Wonshin.
"…You always did jump in without checking your footing."
Aruno felt it then.
Something was wrong.
Wonshin hadn't moved.
He was still standing beside Aruno.
Still upright.
Still solid.
Still breathing.
But his hand—
His hand was empty.
Daiha lifted her other arm.
And the world tilted.
She was holding Wonshin's heart.
Still beating.
Still warm.
Mana pulsed weakly through it, struggling to understand why it wasn't inside its owner anymore.
The snow beneath Daiha hissed as blood touched it.
Junyeong's mouth opened.
"…What."
Wonshin looked down slowly.
His chest was… intact. No wound. No blood. No rupture.
Yet he could feel it.
The absence.
"…Huh," Wonshin muttered. "So that's how you did it."
Daiha smiled sweetly, tilting her head. "You never noticed? I took it the moment you touched me."
Aruno's aura detonated outward.
The snow around him vaporized, ice screaming as pressure crushed it flat. Durandal howled in his grip, reacting violently to his emotional spike.
"Give it back," Aruno said.
Not shouted.
Commanded.
Wonshin raised a hand slightly. "Aruno."
Aruno didn't look away.
"I said—"
"I'm not dead," Wonshin interrupted calmly.
Daiha's fingers tightened around the heart, just a little.
Wonshin's breath hitched—but he didn't fall.
Didn't kneel.
Didn't break.
Junyeong stared, horrified. "That's— That's not possible. You can't just—"
"I didn't kill him," Daiha said, almost bored now. "I removed a condition. That's all."
Her green eyes flicked to Junyeong. "Oh. You finally showed up."
Junyeong swallowed. "…Yeah. Lucky me."
Wonshin straightened, forcing his posture steady despite the void inside his chest. "You wanted leverage," he said. "Congratulations."
Daiha laughed softly. "No, Wonshin. I wanted proof- to see if you had a heart. No person with a heart would lock someone in that orb. But you monkey. You did it all with a heart."