"Shadows of Iron"

Back on Sara, we see Lon locked in an intense duel with Herly. Herly's speed is unmatched, dodging every one of Lon's attacks effortlessly. "You'll need much more than that to even touch me, let alone kill me," she taunts, a smirk on her face.

Determined, Lon pushes his Kai to its maximum, channeling every bit of his energy into reaching his peak output. His massive, 10-foot frame—hardened and enhanced by his half-giant blood and relentless training—moves with surprising agility. But Herly, a seasoned war veteran, reads each of his moves with precision, sidestepping and countering as if she knows his thoughts.

Suddenly, she lets her guard drop just enough to take a hit, testing Lon's strength. He lunges forward with immense force, his fist compressing his full strength into a single blow. But Herly retaliates instantly, her movements a blur. In one clean, precise strike, she slices through his arm, drawing a scream of agony from Lon.

Gritting his teeth, Lon uses his Kai to stop the bleeding and readies his remaining arm for another attack. Herly, seeing his resolve, steps back and activates a technique called "7-Fold Avalanche." She wields her enchanted sword, forged from gasgiam—a rare, Kai-conducting metal that amplifies her power. In a sweeping, seven-part combo, her blade slashes through him, tearing his form apart. His vision fades as the last cut severs his consciousness.

Just as Lon seems to perish, the world around them starts to crumble and fade away, revealing the true nature of their surroundings. It was all a simulation—a rediscovered ancient technology capable of making combatants experience pain, exhaustion, and even death as if real. This technology, resurfaced only a few years ago, serves as a brutal but effective training ground for warriors on Sara.

Lon emerged from the simulation, his mind still reeling from the intensity of the battle he'd just faced. He shook his head in disbelief, muttering, "Dying hurts just as much each time, doesn't it?" Herly gave a knowing smirk. It was clear that this wasn't the first time he'd fallen at her hands in the simulation.

Herly leaned in with a slight grin. "You know, you're so naive… and almost cute in that way. You remind me of someone—a comrade I once had."

Intrigued, Lon tilted his head. "Who was this comrade of yours?"

Herly's expression softened, tinged with a sadness Lon hadn't seen before. "His name was Iron Oliver. He was a tank, a true vanguard, and like you, he was a half-giant. His body was said to be as hard as iron, if not harder. But… even iron can break."

She stared into the distance as if replaying the scene in her mind. "It was during one of our fiercest battles. Oliver was holding the line against a prodigy named Dioles. Dioles was a force to be reckoned with—he managed to break Oliver's defenses, a feat not many could pull off. But Oliver, even in his weakened state, didn't let go. He wrapped Dioles in a bear hug, digging in with everything he had, despite his injuries. Dioles fought hard to escape, but every struggle only hurt Oliver more."

Lon listened intently as Herly's voice dropped, turning solemn. "By the time I dealt with the enemies surrounding us and reached them, it was clear that Oliver couldn't hold on much longer. Dioles was fighting like a trapped beast, and Oliver… he was barely holding on. I knew I couldn't defeat Dioles on my own if he got loose, and I also knew Oliver wouldn't survive his injuries."

She took a deep breath, her voice barely a whisper. "So I made the hardest choice. I severed both of their heads… sparing Oliver from any more suffering and making sure Dioles wouldn't get free."

Lon's expression was a mix of respect and sorrow as he took in her words, understanding the weight Herly had carried from that day forward.

Herly crossed her arms, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know, Lon, it seems like you need a weapon—something that complements your strength and fighting style. I'd say a mace with mithril and gasgiam spikes would suit you well."

Lon's eyes widened, barely containing his excitement. "Commander, that sounds amazing! But… isn't something like that insanely expensive?"

Herly smirked. "Oh, it's outrageously expensive."

Lon scratched his head, sighing. "I don't have nearly enough for a decent weapon, let alone something like that…"

"Well," Herly said, eyeing him with a glint, "I might just give it to you for free."

"Really?!" Lon's face lit up with hope. "You're so generous, Commander!"

"Not so fast." Herly pulled out a poster and waved it in front of him. "You'll get it only if you catch or kill this criminal—Heabi. He's worth a million saras."

Lon stared at the poster in shock. "A million? That's insanely high… Can I even beat someone like him?"

Herly shrugged. "I don't know. But you have to catch him if you want that weapon."

Lon took a deep breath and nodded, nervous but determined. "Alright, I'll go after him."

Herly smirked, her gaze piercing. "Make sure to try and kill him. Catching him is much harder—and if you catch him off guard, killing him will be much simpler."

Lon, despite the anxiety twisting in his gut, gave a resolute nod, determination hardening his gaze. "I won't let you down, Commander."

Herly's expression softened just a bit, a rare glimmer of concern flashing in her eyes. "Don't die, Lon. If you get into trouble, remember it's better to retreat than to end up like Iron Oliver. The reward isn't worth your life."

Lon swallowed, her words weighing on him. "I'll be careful," he replied, steeling himself. The image of Iron Oliver's fate echoed in his mind, reminding him of the dangers that lay ahead. With one last look at Herly, he turned toward the path, ready to face his challenge, even as unease lingered in his heart.