Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris Date: Year 873 / Crow Cycle (3) / Blacksmith's Day (8)

  Orin couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over him when he saw Felis standing there.

  Beside him, Aran exhaled softly, clearly feeling the same, though the rest of their companions only traded confused looks. It was the first time they had ever seen the dark-haired assassin, and his sudden appearance in the middle of the chaos seemed almost unreal.

  Still, Orin’s relief quickly gave way to unease.

  He leaned toward Aran, his voice low.

  “Do you think Felis can really defeat him?” He asked, glancing toward Varis. “He’s strong… but that knight—he’s on a completely different level.”

  Aran hesitated, her expression unreadable as she looked up at the sky, now veiled in heavy darkness.

  “Don’t worry,” she said finally, her tone calm but sure. “Felis’s power multiplies when night falls.”

  On the other side of the square, Felis stood before Varis, casually twirling his daggers between his fingers. His usual mocking smile was there, sharp as the weapons he held.

  “So…” Felis said, his voice light, almost playful. “Who’s making the first move? Just so you know, once the sun’s completely down… this fight will stop being fair.”

  Varis watched him in silence, his golden eyes studying every inch of his opponent.

  For a moment, he said nothing, weighing his chances.

  “…I could crush all of you right now with my Summon,” he said finally, his tone calm but measured. “But doing so without knowing your abilities would be… reckless.”

  He lowered his blade slightly, thoughtful.

  “Let’s make a deal,” Varis said at last. “Hand over the chained man your soldiers are holding, and I’ll leave this place without further bloodshed.”

  Felis tilted his head, feigning consideration, the edge of his smile widening.

  “Tempting,” he said. “But what if I say no? You’ve already lost your divine protection… sounds like a perfect chance to finish you off.”

  “In that case,” Varis replied, unshaken, “I’ll use my Summon. It’ll be a wager, boy... one Summon against another. Neither of us knows the other’s power. Tell me, are you willing to risk everything in a game of all or nothing?”

  Felis’s grin faded slightly as his gaze flicked toward the group of students, and then to Kane, still bound and wounded among the guards.

  After a quiet sigh, he straightened, sheathing one of his daggers.

  “Fine,” he said. “I’m tired of fighting today anyway. Let’s both walk away and call it even.”

  Varis’s lips curved into a faint, satisfied smile.

  “Wise choice, boy,” he said. “But don’t mistake my mercy for weakness. Once my strength returns, I’ll come for you again. Consider this a reprieve… nothing more.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” Felis replied dryly.

  Then, turning to the confused soldiers still holding Kane, Felis added with casual authority:

  “You heard the old man. Release him.”

  The soldiers exchanged uncertain looks.

  Felis’s smile vanished as his tone turned ice-cold.

  “Unless you’d rather be the first to test the power of that knight.”

  That was all it took.

  The guards quickly released Kane, who staggered toward Varis. The older knight placed a hand over his chest, a faint golden light healing his wounds.

  Varis cast one last look back at the group. At Orin, Aran, and the others.

  “We’ll meet again,” he said, his smile chilling.

  Then, together with Kane, he turned and disappeared into the rain-drenched streets, their silhouettes swallowed by the darkness of Solaris.

  The tension that had gripped the air began to dissolve at last.

  For a fleeting moment, silence settled among them, heavy, but not hopeless. Orin and the others exchanged glances filled with exhaustion and quiet relief.

  But Felis, who approached them with his usual sharp tone, quickly brought them back to reality.

  “Don’t celebrate yet,” he said flatly. “That old man will send reinforcements the moment he reaches headquarters. We need to move. Now.”

  He was right.

  They were still standing in the middle of the ruined streets of Solaris, a city that had become a graveyard of shadows and uncertainty.

  “You’re right,” Orin said softly. His gaze drifted toward where Hadar’s body lay in the rain-soaked street. “But… what about him? We can’t just leave him here.”

  “Don’t worry,” one of the League soldiers answered firmly. “We’ll take care of our captain. He’ll be given the burial he deserves.”

  Orin remained silent, his eyes fixed on the fallen knight. The steady rainfall blurred his vision. He wasn’t sure if it was the water or the weight pressing behind his eyes.

  “Give me a moment,” he murmured, handing Cor, whom he had been holding, over to Sirius. “I’ll be back.”

  He walked toward Hadar without another word.

  When he reached him, he knelt in the rain beside the body, the dull echo of raindrops on armor filling the silence. The others stood behind him, motionless. A silent gesture of respect.

  “Hadar,” Orin said quietly, “I promise your death won’t be in vain. I’ll become stronger… strong enough that no one righteous like you will ever have to sacrifice themselves again.”

  He stood up, his hand briefly tightening into a fist before turning toward the soldiers.

  “Give him the farewell he deserves,” Orin said, his voice steady but low. “Make sure his memory lives on.”

  The soldiers nodded solemnly.

  Orin then faced his companions, his tone shifting back to resolve.

  “Let’s go. The North Gate isn’t far. We can’t waste any more time.”

  Without another word, the group moved on through the rain, leaving behind the silent battlefield that had stolen so much from them.

  The downpour thickened as they walked. In the darkness, the narrow streets of Solaris, once bright and bustling, now loomed empty and cold, each echoing step swallowed by the night.

  They walked in silence for several minutes that felt like an eternity to Orin.

  The only sounds were the rain, their uneven footsteps, and the whisper of wet leaves in the wind. Felis led the way, moving ahead with the fluid alertness of a predator, his gaze scanning every shadow along the road.

  As they left the outskirts of Solaris behind, the cityscape slowly gave way to small cottages, farmlands, and lines of dark trees that swayed gently in the night breeze. The air, though heavy with rain, finally carried the scent of freedom.

  “We did it!” Sirius exclaimed, his voice breaking the long silence as he sprinted a few steps ahead, splashing through puddles. “We actually made it out of the city!”

  Cor, now walking on her own, let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  “I never thought I’d agree with Sirius,” she said, smiling faintly. “But for once, I’m glad to hear him shout.”

  Gina chuckled softly beside her, her relief so strong it almost sounded like laughter. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

  Further back, Jin and Dan followed quietly. The tension of battle had drained from their faces, replaced by a tired but genuine smile.

  “I thought we were done for,” Jin said, running a hand through his soaked hair. “But once again, the legendary adventurer Jin escapes death! Maybe my real ability is luck.”

  “I wish your real ability was common sense,” Dan replied dryly, earning a small wave of laughter from the group.

  For a while, their weary smiles made the night feel a little lighter. But Aran, still thoughtful, eventually broke the brief calm as she approached Felis.

  “Why did you retreat?” she asked, her tone quiet but curious. “With your Moonlight passive ability, your power multiplies at night. That knight had already lost his divine protection, you could have ended him.”

  Felis’s lips curved into an amused grin.

  “I would’ve loved to, little priestess,” he said. “But my mission wasn’t to kill old knights—it was to get you all out alive.”

  He paused, glancing down at the shallow cut still bleeding along her arm. “Besides… even if I could’ve beaten him, I doubt I’d have left that fight in one piece. That old man—he’s not someone ordinary.”

  Felis looked at the girl with a raised eyebrow

  “By the way, can’t you heal it?” he asked.

  “Impossible,” Aran said, shaking her head. “His sword carries divine energy. Any wound it inflicts rejects celestial arts—it can’t be healed by divine means.”

  “I see…” Felis murmured, flexing his hand as the blood dripped down. “That explains the strange aura I felt. That was… a terrifying blade.”

  Behind them, Orin followed silently, his thoughts drifting back to Hadar, to the sacrifice that still burned painfully in his chest. The image of the young knight standing in the rain refused to fade.

  Finally, he spoke, his voice low.

  “Felis,” he said, “if I go to Dhamarr… will I really become strong enough to face someone like that knight?”

  Felis stopped, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes, cold and sharp under the moonlight, softened for a moment. Then he sighed.

  “My friend,” he said, “once you awaken the true nature of your power and master your summoning, neither I nor that knight will be able to stand against you.”

  His words hit him like a spark in the dark. Orin wasn’t sure if he meant it as encouragement or truth, but deep inside, something stirred.

  Before he could say anything more, Cor’s voice broke the silence.

  “Dhamarr?” she asked, wide-eyed. “Orin, are you serious? You’re going there?”

  He hesitated, then nodded.

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “I won’t be returning to the Academy. Once we reach the gate… I’ll head for Dhamarr.”

  Cor looked ready to argue, but Sirius stepped in, resting a hand on Orin’s shoulder with a grin that carried more warmth than words.

  “Whatever you need to do, we’ll trust your judgment, Leader. Just promise you’ll come back someday.”

  Orin smiled faintly. “I promise.”

  “First Gina, now you,” Cor muttered, lowering his head. “And if we count Eridus too… it feels like our group won’t be together again for a while.”

  Orin looked around at them—his friends, battered but alive.

  “No matter what happens,” he said softly, “I’ll never forget what we’ve been through. And someday… we’ll meet again.”

  Their gazes met one by one... sad, yet filled with quiet hope.

  In the distance, the North Gate came into view: a towering stone archway that marked the end of the City of Solaris. Normally guarded by soldiers and guards, served as a checkpoint for merchants’ wagons. But now it stood abandoned and silent, half-shrouded in fog and rain.

  “It looks like we’ve made it…” Felis murmured, gazing toward the misty horizon where the rain had begun to thin. “I just hope Altair’s group manages to cross the woods without trouble. If all goes according to plan, they should arrive by dawn.”

  Orin followed his gaze, his eyes drifting toward the dark silhouette of the distant groves. The wind carried the scent of wet earth and pine, but in his chest, unease lingered.

  He couldn’t help wondering if Eridus and the others were safe. If they too had survived the chaos of Solaris.

  “Do you think they’ve run into any problems?” Orin asked quietly.

  “Maybe,” Felis replied, folding his arms. “But nothing they can’t handle. The worst they’ll face are magical beasts roaming the forest. If anyone can lead them through safely, it’s Altair.”

  Orin nodded, but the uncertainty refused to fade.

  Sirius stretched his arms and looked around the empty road. “If the rest of the group won’t arrive until morning… what do we do now?”

  “Staying out in the open isn’t smart,” Cor said quickly, scanning the tree line.

  Gina shivered and hugged herself. “Could we find shelter somewhere? Even a small place to rest would help.”

  “She’s right,” Aran agreed. “We should find cover before the temperature drops any further.”

  Felis tilted his head, studying the landscape until his eyes fixed on a cluster of dark trees near the North Gate. “That grove there should do. It’s close enough to keep watch on the road, but dense enough to hide us from patrols.”

  Orin followed his gesture and nodded. “Then that’s where we’ll stay.”

  “Good,” Felis said, adjusting his cloak. “Don’t worry about the night watch—I’ll take care of it. Rest while you can.”

  The others exchanged weary glances, too drained to argue. With slow, heavy steps, they left the road and slipped into the shadowed grove.

  The rain had softened into a fine drizzle, and the forest canopy above caught the moonlight in faint, silvery threads. As they settled among the roots and fallen leaves, the silence of the wilderness wrapped around them—gentle, fragile, and strange after all the screams and steel of Solaris.

  Tomorrow, they would meet with Altair and the others.

  But for tonight, all they could do was rest… and wait for the dawn to come.