At the edge of the Rokye Continent—the land lay dry and restless beneath a howling wind.
Hohn Village.
Or what remained of it.
The giant bird dipped low—
Then released them.
Yamato hit the ground first.
His knees bent slightly on impact—controlled, precise.
No stumble. No hesitation.
Ozaki landed a second later, his boots grinding softly against the cracked earth. His breathing remained steady, composed—
But his eyes shifted almost immediately.
Yamato wasn't moving.
He stood still, his gaze locked onto the massive forest behind them.
His brows twitched faintly—like a hunter sensing something buried deep within silence.
Ozaki stepped closer and tapped his shoulder.
"What's wrong? Is there something there?"
Yamato blinked once, as if returning from somewhere far away.
"…No. Nothing. Probably a magic beast."
But his eyes lingered—
A second too long.
Then he turned.
Ahead of them—another forest.
Endless.
Quiet.
Ozaki exhaled.
"This used to be a village."
A pause.
"My village."
The wind filled the silence he left behind.
Yamato glanced at him—then forward again.
"Why aren't we teleporting back? We're wasting time."
Ozaki rolled his fingers, joints cracking lightly.
"That bird interfered with my teleportation. My body needs…"
He paused, measuring the strain.
"…fifteen seconds to stabilize."
That was when it showed.
Not fatigue.
Not fear.
Worry.
Yamato's jaw tightened. His breathing shifted—shallow, restrained.
Ozaki noticed.
"Yamato, calm down. That person didn't carry a weapon… and I didn't sense that level of magic. They should be fine."
Yamato turned, eyes sharp.
"Weapons… or suppressed magic… that's what superiority looks like, Master Ozaki."
The words settled heavily.
Ozaki's thoughts flickered—
Someone like Yamato…?
He didn't finish it.
Yamato lowered his stance.
Not fully crouched—
Just enough.
A runner's posture.
"I can't wait, Master Ozaki."
A breath.
"I'll leave you to your teleportation."
Ozaki's eyes widened.
"Yamato, wai—"
WOOM.
The ground cracked beneath Yamato's feet.
Wind detonated outward, forcing Ozaki to shield his eyes.
And just like that—
He was gone.
Trees blurred.
Grass tore apart beneath invisible force.
Yamato moved like pressure itself—cutting through the forest, his focus absolute.
Behind him, Ozaki lowered his arm slowly.
"…Fifteen seconds."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"I just hope Lumei didn't lose the shrapnel… teleporting blind would be a disaster."
A breath.
Then another.
Phew.
The resistance faded.
"Finally."
And without sound—
Without distortion—
Ozaki vanished.
---
Deep within the forest they had left behind—
A figure rose from a wooden chair.
Kaku.
Dry leaves crunched beneath his boots as he stepped forward, eyes narrowing.
"…That kid noticed me?"
His voice was low. Curious.
"I didn't leak a trace of magic."
He paused.
"…Rujer's seal."
A slow step.
"Did it weaken when he controlled that bird…?"
Another.
"…Or is it reacting to usage?"
Kaku stopped.
Then turned slightly, gaze distant.
"…If he keeps releasing energy like that…"
A faint smile.
"…control becomes thinner."
He sat again, relaxed.
"But his reserves…"
A soft exhale.
"…nearly infinite."
His fingers tapped lightly against the wood.
"Ozaki is strong."
A pause.
"…but strength isn't the issue."
His smile sharpened.
"If Rujer is forced to spend… even slightly—"
A small tilt of his head.
"…that's enough."
---
Exactly fifteen seconds after Yamato took off—
He arrived.
The ground screamed beneath his stop.
Dust exploded upward, swallowing everything.
At that same instant—
Ozaki appeared beside Lumei.
The shrapnel had held.
But neither of them moved.
Because what lay before them—
Was wrong.
The battlefield was broken.
Cracks split the earth open. Stones lay shattered like discarded fragments.
A shallow pool filled one fracture—
The silent mark of Sora's last attack.
Shadow vines twitched across the ground.
Dying.
Reacting.
Like severed limbs refusing to accept they were gone.
And then—
The bodies.
Sora lay motionless. Blood spread beneath her head, her neck twisted unnaturally.
Ichiha lay beside her. Still.
A thin line of blood slipped from his mouth—each breath shallow… failing.
Lumei and Chella were conscious—
But barely.
Chella's armor was cracked across the chest.
Not pierced.
Broken.
The force alone had done it.
Lumei trembled beside her, his body barely holding together.
Yet his eyes found Yamato.
Still smiling.
"…Yamato," he rasped, voice uneven.
"How do you… recover from fatigue so easily?"
A weak chuckle followed.
It didn't hide the pain.
Yamato didn't answer.
His eyes moved.
Sora.
Ichiha.
Chella.
Lumei.
Each one carved deeper.
His breathing sharpened.
"What…" his voice cracked slightly, "…happened here?"
Ozaki moved immediately, kneeling beside Ichiha. His palm pressed against his chest.
"…His organs are regenerating. Slowly."
Yamato turned.
Scanning.
Searching.
"Where is he?"
Silence.
Ozaki pressed harder.
"If I stabilize him, he can handle the rest—"
"It was Rujer."
Lumei's voice cut in.
Soft.
Direct.
"He one-tapped them… slammed me hard enough to split a body… then drove his knee into my spine…"
He swallowed.
"…and cracked her armor… with one strike."
Yamato's fists tightened.
"He did this… to you?"
But Lumei kept talking—
Forcing it.
Pushing through pain.
Trying to reach him.
"…we couldn't touch him, Yamato…"
A breath.
"…he didn't even try."
Yamato stepped forward.
Slowly.
Stopped beside Sora.
Knelt.
His hand hovered above her—
But didn't touch.
"…she's cold."
His voice was barely there.
Ozaki looked up.
"Yamato—"
"He left them like this."
Still quiet.
Still empty.
"…and I wasn't here."
Lumei forced himself up slightly.
"…it's not—"
"Stop."
The word cut him off.
Clean.
Final.
---
Silence fell.
Not natural.
Not calm.
Heavy.
Yamato stood.
The world around him dulled.
Sound thinned.
Voices faded.
Only images remained.
Ichiha… broken.
Sora… broken and bleeding.
Chella… shaking.
Lumei… still smiling.
His chest rose—
Once.
Twice.
"…It's my fault."
Ozaki stepped forward.
"Yamato—"
Yamato turned.
And Ozaki froze.
That face—
Empty.
No anger.
No grief.
Nothing.
Just—
A void.
His body trembled.
Not from fear.
From pressure.
Ozaki stepped back slightly.
"…He only calls me 'Master' when he's stable…"
His voice lowered.
"…When he's breaking… it's just 'Ozaki.'"
Lumei tried again.
"…we're alive, that's what matters—"
It snapped.
---
BOOM.
Wind detonated outward.
The ground split beneath Yamato's feet as his aura erupted—wild, violent, suffocating.
The air thickened instantly.
Chella gasped.
Lumei's body dropped back to the ground.
They couldn't move.
This—
Was not the Yamato they knew.
This was something deeper.
Something closer to the truth of Recovery Rank.
Unrestricted.
Awakened.
---
Yamato stepped forward again.
Each step cracked the earth.
His muscles tightened audibly. His jaw clenched.
"Ozaki…" he started—
Ozaki, "calm down—"
"Don't."
The word fell—
And the air obeyed.
Pressure surged.
Even Ozaki felt it now.
Not as an opponent—
But as a memory.
---
Far away—
Within his realm—
Regns stopped mid-motion.
"…That aura."
Renji looked up, not uttering a word.
"Is that Ozaki?"
Regns shook his head slowly.
"No."
His eyes hardened.
"That's not control."
A pause.
"…That's collapse."
---
Back on the battlefield—
Stones began to rise.
The air warped under pressure.
Ozaki stood firm, forcing his voice through the weight.
"I failed them. That's on me."
No response.
"But if you lose control now—you'll finish what he started."
Still nothing.
Yamato stood—
Silent.
Unmoving.
His aura stopped expanding.
Instead—
It condensed.
Denser.
Heavier.
Darker.
His gaze dropped.
Chella—shaking.
Lumei—still trying to smile.
His arms lowered slowly.
Dark mist curled around him.
Ozaki spoke again. Quieter.
"I know what it's like… to lose everyone."
A breath.
"My entire class died… because of decisions I made."
Silence.
"You don't come back from that."
Another pause.
"But you don't fix it… by destroying what's left."
He turned, placing his hand on Sora's neck.
Healing energy flowed.
"I'll save them."
---
Yamato didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't react.
His aura settled—
Not gone.
Not calm.
Contained.
Like a storm gripping itself from the inside.
His face remained empty.
But beneath it—
Something had already shifted.
Not anger.
Not rage.
Something deeper.
A void—
Waiting