For a moment long and still, Jiza's right hand lingers midair — blade gripped tight, yet he strikes not. His gaze holds upon the fallen boy, unreadable. Then, with a heavy breath, he sheathes the sword once more and turns his back.
Step by step he walks, boots pressing dust beneath him. At length he halts, glancing back — nothing has changed. Hiro yet sits limp upon the ground, lifeless as before.
But then—
"What trickery…?" he murmurs. For Hiro's hand — it moves.
In an instant, Jiza draws his blade anew.
—SWASHHH!
Like storm-born wind, the boy rises — right hand clenched, left hand reaching forth straight toward Jiza.
Jiza's eyes narrow. "Hmph." He lifts his fists, one guarding his face, the other ready to strike.
The boy twists midair. His arm loosens, and—
—BLAAAM!
A kick swift as light strikes Jiza full across the face. The bandaged knight crashes to the earth, breath ragged — yet laughter bursts from him.
"IMPRESSIVE!" he cries, kneeling where he fell. "So it hath come to pass, as foretold. The boy of despair — vessel of divine will… that arrogance may be purged."
He grins, wild and half-mad, lifting one hand toward the heavens. "Unlike thee—!"
His sword — vanished but a breath ago — gleams once more, suspended above Hiro's head.
---
Far beyond the burning plains, within a castle vast and high, its towers crowned with slate and its windows veiled in shadowed cloth, lies a chamber where light dares not enter.
Four figures stand within, their faces hidden from the pale glow of the sun.
Before them rests a long oaken table, dark in grain. Upon it — a parchment of news: a blast within the relic shop of Edevane Village, under the realm of Zepharia.
"The Lady hath spoken," says the first, his spectacles glinting faintly. "The crystal long sought hath awakened. The explosion marketh its call. Who shall descend, as the Lady demandeth?"
The second, calm yet weary, stirs his cup. "The Lady's sight hath never faltered. If she declareth thus, her word be truth. Yet haste oft leadeth to folly. I shall not descend."
"Nor I," says the third, leaning upon his palm with a sigh. "Too soon a move may draw her ire."
Silence falls.
At last, the first turns his gaze upon the fourth — seated apart, still as stone.
"And thou…" he speaks low. "What sayest thou— Jiza?"