Aftermath

|Varay|

The clash between Alea, Bairon, and myself against Uto had reached an impasse, with our forces locked in a fierce deadlock. Neither side seemed capable of gaining the upper hand.

In the midst of the intense struggle, Uto's voice pierced through the chaos. His words carried a hint of reason amidst the chaos.

"Lances," Uto suddenly proposed, his tone calm and measured, "Let us bring an end to this senseless confrontation. It is clear that neither party can claim a decisive victory. In the spirit of finding a resolution, we are willing to release all the hostages we have taken. In return, we request that you allow us to retreat peacefully."

The voice of reason originating from Uto, one I thought was just a psychotic killer shocked all three of us to our cores.

Alea, Bairon, and I exchanged glances, contemplating Uto's offer. The tension in the air was palpable as we weighed the consequences of our decision.

After a moment of silence, Alea stepped forward, her voice carrying a resolute tone. "Very well, Uto," she said. "We will accept your terms. Release the hostages, and you may withdraw from this battle unharmed."

With those words, Uto turned and took the boy with him before retreating with all the other mages, leaving us to survey the aftermath of the battle.

|Vicht|

"Looks like our brilliant ones have found themselves in quite the predicament," I murmured, effortlessly teleporting to Xyrus City, my presence concealed from Windsom's detection as he wasn't in Dicathen currently.

Upon arriving at the ravaged battleground that was once Xyrus Academy, I wielded the power of aevum to freeze time itself.

Assessing the situation, I immediately noticed the grave injuries suffered by Gary and Lancelot. Though Alistair and Arthur were also hurt, their wounds could be tended to by other capable healers.

My gaze fell upon Arthur, a pang of empathy coursing through me. The weight of his suffering was evident, yet his fate was predetermined, beyond my ability to alter.

Lancelot's body and mana core were on the verge of collapse due to the strain of manipulating copious amounts of ambient mana while safeguarding his silver core. Sylph's spirit magic alone could not sustain him indefinitely.

Drawing forth an elixir, I guided it into Lancelot's chest, providing him with the restorative energy he desperately needed.

Turning my attention to Gary, who faced a slightly less dire situation, I reluctantly withdrew a precious elixir, capable of revitalizing both of his cores to their original state.

Once I had completed my healing efforts, I departed from the scene, releasing time from its frozen state.

"Keep growing, my exceptional ones," I whispered softly, my words carrying a hint of bittersweet truth. "This respite is the most generous allotment you shall receive."

|Rachel|

The tragic events that unfolded at Xyrus Academy surpassed the depths of despair portrayed in the novel. To my shock, not only Draneeve and Lucas were involved, but Uto and Jezebeth as well. Uto's presence alone presented a formidable challenge, his power testing the limits of the Paladin's abilities. However, it was Jezebeth who truly posed a daunting threat.

Jezebeth's strength was unparalleled, surpassing any opponent I had faced before. What made it even more disconcerting was his youth, for he was no older than us. It was a grim realization that, given time, he had the potential to ascend the ranks of the Vritra, surpassing even the mightiest of Sovereigns.

The weight of my responsibilities grew heavier as I grasped the magnitude of the task ahead. It was not merely a battle to protect our academy, but a struggle against an enemy who could shape the course of the future.

To my astonishment, the injuries afflicting Lancelot and Gary began to rapidly heal, a development that defied my understanding of elemental healing magic's limitations. I pondered over the source of this sudden recovery, contemplating who could have aided us in our time of need.

The Lances diligently worked for half an hour, gathering survivors and gathering detailed accounts of the attack. Their presence brought much-needed relief and assistance to the beleaguered victims. The mages from various guilds swiftly arrived, their collective efforts focused on rescuing and providing aid to as many individuals as possible.

I couldn't help but admire the intricacies of the barrier that had once enclosed the school. Its design was masterful, allowing entry while effectively preventing anyone from leaving. The fact that the Lances themselves had to break the barrier indicated its selective permissions, suggesting that only specific individuals were granted access.

Finally, after the four most injured Paladins were taken to the recovery room, I was able to take a deep breath of relief at the turn of events.

|Gary|

In the depths of the abyss, I found myself adrift in an unfathomable darkness, devoid of any reflections or hints of life. Whether I floated aimlessly or remained suspended in stillness, I could not discern. There was only the absence of all sensory perception—no sounds, tastes, scents, or tactile sensations in this infinite void.

Initially, a sense of tranquility enveloped me. I seemed to merge with the vastness, a minuscule entity in an expansive universe, yet paradoxically, the sole existence in this desolate realm.

But as time elapsed, fragments of my identity resurfaced. I recollected that I was human, possessing a body with hands, feet, and a tangible form. Nevertheless, I remained detached from any physical sensations. I attempted to curl my fingers and wiggle my toes, to flare my nostrils and part my lips, yet no perception greeted my efforts. I could not even discern the rhythm of my own breath.

Dread quickly seized me, though devoid of the usual physiological responses I had grown accustomed to. No pounding heart, no hastened breath, no trembling limbs. In truth, I yearned to experience something—anything—that would confirm the existence of more than just my consciousness. Yet, trapped in this timeless void, I had no means of measuring the passing of moments.

To preserve my sanity, I resorted to desperate measures. I screamed, straining my vocal cords, yet silence echoed back at me. I resorted to biting my own tongue, seeking any semblance of sensation, but there was only emptiness.

I simply existed, a prisoner of this enigmatic darkness, where time held no sway and the boundaries of my being dissolved into nothingness.

Each subjective second that slipped away further unraveled the fragile threads of my sanity. Madness bubbled and seeped into every recess of my consciousness, its grip tightening with an unyielding force. Yet, the anticipated hallucinations, the distorted realities that I had anticipated, never materialised. In a world stripped bare of all else, with a nebulous existence that I couldn't even ascertain, the manifestations of insanity eluded me.

Gradually, the perpetual torment of fear, anxiety, dread, and paranoia morphed into a dull ache of boredom. A monotonous emptiness consumed me, devoid of any respite or escape. Memories tantalised, dancing tantalisingly on the fringes of my hypothetical consciousness, forever elusive and just out of reach.

Time continued its relentless march, but within this void of nothingness, it became an enigma. There were no markers, no reference points to discern whether it slipped by swiftly or languished in interminable slowness.

Yet, a flicker of sensation—a faint prickle on my arm—pierced through the numbing haze, jolting me back to awareness. Light infiltrated the encroaching darkness, and I awakened, disoriented and disheveled, within the confines of a medical room.

In an instant, I jolted upright in my bed, greeted by the presence of my parents standing before me. My mother appeared disheveled, her face etched with worry, tear stains marring the serenity of her dress. My father stood beside her, his hand gently supporting her lower back, offering a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions.

With the opening of my eyelids, my mother in this current existence rushed towards me, her arms enveloping me in a tight embrace. Her touch, once repulsive to me, now evoked a different response.

The warmth of her skin against mine, the cascade of her platinum hair flowing over my shoulders—these simple sensations stirred a long-lost warmth within my heart. A sensation I had believed would forever elude me in this life was now embracing me once more.

I reciprocated the embrace, pulling her closer to me. A surprised yelp escaped her lips, yet she remained nestled in my arms, allowing the connection to deepen.

"Why?" my mother sobbed in my arms, her voice heavy with despair. "Why are you constantly thrust into such perilous situations?"

Her question hung in the air, but I found myself at a loss for words. How could I explain the truth? How could I reveal that an ancient enemy from countless lifetimes had also reincarnated alongside me, seeking my demise? How could I divulge the intricacies of a cosmic game where we were mere pawns, manipulated by forces far greater and more formidable?

To speak these truths would only burden her further, deepening her worries and fears. It was the burden of the weak, those who found themselves unwittingly entangled in the schemes of others. Despite my considerable strength, I remained insignificant compared to that mysterious entity and the other unseen contenders she vied against.

Instead of speaking the truth, I held my mother tighter, offering a silent solace in the embrace. Sometimes, shielding our loved ones from the harsh realities of our existence is the greatest gift we can give them, even if it means carrying the weight of those secrets alone.

"Father," I said, gently patting my mother's hands to assure her of my well-being. My gaze locked with his, noting the flicker of concern in his crimson eyes. "There is something I must attend to. How much time has passed since I regained consciousness?"

"Only an hour," my father responded, his voice laced with caution. "The Lances are still awaiting your presence before they depart. It appears that a significant event is unfolding within the Council."

I nodded, absorbing his words. The Council's aim was clear—to eliminate the dwarven representatives. Yet, the lingering presence of the Lances indicated an unexpected turn of events.

Confusion swirled within me. Something was amiss, a puzzle waiting to be unraveled. I needed to ascertain the underlying reasons behind the delay, for it held a key to the unfolding narrative.

"You haven't fully recovered," Father expressed his concern. "However, the urgency from the Lances suggests it would be best for you to join them now."

Despite my mother's protests, I summoned the strength to rise from the bed and made my way outside to meet the other members of the Paladin order and the accompanying Lances.

As I stepped into the open, I found all six of my fellow Paladins and the three Lances assembled, their gazes fixed upon me, awaiting my arrival.

"The Council anticipates the presence of the esteemed Paladins," Varay declared with authority, her voice resonating through the air. "The great geniuses of Dicathen shall be led by us to their chambers."