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Amid the searing heat, in a corner of the small town embraced by roaring crimson flames, Setsuna clung to his fraying consciousness. The fire that scorched his body raged with unrelenting pain, tearing through him inside and out. He wanted to claw at his skin.
Yet he stood.
(Why?)
Setsuna's gaze dropped, taking in the hellish scene. Karan's park, its fixtures and surrounding buildings swallowed by ferocious red flames. How long would the fire burn? Its ferocity defied any hope of extinguishing it, leaving him stunned.
At his feet lay the man tall, gaunt, black-haired up close. His uniform-like clothes hinted at blue. Even unconscious, he gripped the staff, its dragon-head ornament gone.
Fire Dragon Maiden.
His summoned weapon? Setsuna didn't grasp the difference between summoned and ordinary weapons, but this staff's devastating power spewing fire, unleashing explosions, spreading ruin marked it as a summoned weapon. Terrifying.
Its flames had razed the town and seared Setsuna's body.
The fire showed no sign of waning, consuming Karan. By tomorrow, the town might be ash.
And Setsuna's life might burn out with it. He vaguely understood. No regrets. He'd done all he could. Could he hold his head high? He thought so.
He'd defeated the villain who torched the town a novice in battle. Wasn't that enough? No need for praise. He might be cursed, called a fool. Charging into flames, felling the culprit, only to die. Absurd. Pointless.
Yet he felt fulfilled.
A strange clarity breezed through his heart amid the heat.
One lingering regret lingered, though
(Hah…)
In his fading consciousness, Setsuna gave a wry smile at his foolish thoughts. No need to go that far, perhaps. But seeing this devastation, wanting to act was natural.
Could he extinguish the flames? Douse the fire that stole this town's peace and, perhaps, restore that little girl's smile? The dream fueled him.
He looked at his hand, gripping the black spear. Its sinister power was clear, though he hadn't mastered it.
(Maybe…)
Gripping the spear with both hands, he plunged its tip into the ground. By his theory, the spear should vanish once its purpose was fulfilled defeating the man now unconscious before him. That was done.
Yet it remained.
(Something's left…)
His assumption, perhaps. His understanding of summoned weapons might be wrong. He knew nothing of summoning or dismissal. Even if mistaken, who could mock him?
In that moment, Setsuna believed his instinct wasn't entirely off. His hands felt a surge of power. He shouted:
"Erase it!"
The jewel embedded in the spear's butt blazed with dazzling light. Sapphire radiance seared his retinas, piercing his consciousness.
A voice seemed to echo.
(What…?)
The sensation vanished instantly, drowned by resurging pain.
The spear's blue light enveloped the park, then surged beyond, swallowing buildings, spreading across Karan.
Setsuna sensed the light's reach, as if the spear informed him. He saw the town from above, understanding the light's intent.
He commanded:
"Do it."
With that, the light flooding Karan reversed, rushing back to the jewel. A torrent of sapphire brilliance surged toward the spear, dragging immense heat.
Every flame in Karan seemed swept along, powerless, sucked into the jewel with the light.
At the center of a spiraling vortex of blue light and crimson fire, Setsuna stood dumbfounded. He'd understood the spear's aim but hadn't anticipated this. His jaw dropped.
The flames, cradled by the blue light, lost their heat, unable to harm Setsuna. In seconds, Karan's fires vanished into the spear. A blink, and it was over. Setsuna barely processed it.
The flames were gone. The heat dissipated, replaced by sudden cold. Blue sky reclaimed the heavens. The hellish scene vanished like a lie.
The buildings, scorched to ruins, didn't recover. The fire's absence didn't restore them.
Setsuna's vision filled with charred, silent ruins a funeral procession of blackened structures. Burned trees shed ash in the breeze. Karan was razed. Too late to save it. Had he come sooner, could this have been avoided?
Perhaps it was futile.
Leaning on the spear, Setsuna laughed bitterly. His strength could barely sustain him.
He'd collapse soon, lose consciousness. Maybe his life.
The Fire Dragon Maiden's flames had charred his entire body. "Severe burns" felt too mild. That heat smoldered beneath his skin. The spear quenched the flames but not his wounds.
Yet
(Fine. This is enough.)
Somehow, that was his feeling.
A refreshing breeze blew through his heart, a first in his life.
No regrets.
He wanted to live more. Didn't want to die. Dying here would be a wasted death—he knew that.
But the cool wind in his heart stripped away his attachment to life, his fear of death.
(This is my life, huh?)
Resignation, perhaps.
He wanted to laugh, to mock it all. But no laughter came. He lacked the strength, the will.
In his fading consciousness, footsteps echoed. In the silent town, they resounded unnaturally.
"Hey, you!?"
Setsuna turned toward the shocked voice, only to collapse. At the edge of his spinning vision, a young blond man appeared, his stunned face almost comical. Irrelevant now.
The sound of sleep's footsteps closed in.
For Faria Belpharia, irreparable failures didn't exist. In her twenty-two years, she'd never made such a mistake. Never. No unforgivable errors.
Not that it was a point of pride. She wasn't so frail or powerless as to stake her confidence on such a thing.
But she shook her head.
"What have I done…?"
She muttered, stunned.
Gazing at the wreckage of Karan's east gate, Faria couldn't avoid her fault. A young woman, her slightly bluish-black hair short, red-rimmed glasses suggesting weak eyesight.
Her fine brows framed sharp, emerald eyes. Her refined features, usually cool, were now painted with dismay.
Her slender, toned frame exuded femininity, accentuated by her fitted black-and-red outfit, highlighting her curves.
"Too late…"
She stared at the gate's remains two burned pillars, collapsed doors. Once, Karan's east gate was famed for its grandeur, a symbol of pride for Karan, for Gandia. Its loss was a grievous blow.
But that wasn't all.
Crossing the gate's ruins, Faria entered Karan's streets, moving toward the west gate. She nearly stopped at the sight but pressed on. Halting wasn't allowed.
A wasteland. Utter devastation, like the aftermath of war.
Halfway down the street, she paused. Around her, people wandered, dazed, like soulless ghosts, embodying despair.
"This… how…!?"
Emotions surged memories of the street's homes, shops, buildings, Karan's chaotic charm. All lost in half a day.
She loved this unwieldy, hard-to-navigate town. Not her birthplace, nor long her home, but love didn't need time.
Hand on her trembling chest, she felt anger, sorrow, and self-loathing for her inaction. Cursing herself changed nothing she knew that. But her aimless rage turned inward.
"Faria!"
"What?"
At the familiar male voice, Faria shot an unusually irritable glance. Directing her self-anger at others was wrong.
As expected, Saris Erion stood there a handsome young man with blond hair and blue eyes. His neatly parted hair screamed rigidity, but Faria knew his true nature, as did others. His pale skin and military-like uniform were soot-stained.
"Late arrival, well done," she said.
"Still so snarky," Saris replied, raising a hand lightly.
Faria mirrored him, his bright smile grating more than usual. She hated herself for it.
"Not at all. Your quick response averted the worst," he said.
"Huh?"
Faria regretted her flat reply, certain her face looked foolish. Not an expression to show Saris he'd tease her endlessly.
"The armed summoner who burned the town was taken down by one of yours, right? Or not?"
His words should've been clear, but Faria couldn't grasp them, blurting another dumb sound.
"What?"