The narrow streets of Novara still breathed a tense silence, as if the city itself was reflecting on what had just happened. The cobblestone ground bore the marks of the recent battle, and the heavy air still carried the faint scent of residual energy. Every corner seemed charged with latent tension, every shadow whispered of potential danger.
The sky, steeped in the hues of sunset, cast red and orange reflections on the crumbling buildings, while echoes of past clashes reverberated through the alley. The abandoned windows seemed to watch silently, and the winding streets reinforced the sense of uncertainty, as if any moment could bring an unexpected twist or a new challenge.
Amidst this charged atmosphere, all eyes turned to the surviving figures, questions lingering in the air: Who would regain control first? Who would discover their true strength? And who would make the first move in this game that refused to calm down?
Raiza withdrew her hand from Celestine, maintaining a careful distance. Her crimson sword shifted subtly in her grip, now aimed directly at Celestine with measured precision.
Celestine released her hold on Milo's hand, her gaze shifting fully toward Raiza. Calm yet authoritative, she studied her opponent with the kind of quiet assessment that made even the most confident fighters hesitate.
Milo stared at Celestine, a mix of surprise and confusion written across his face. He didn't recognize her, and yet something about her presence her poise, her control made it clear that she was no ordinary fighter.
The street seemed to hold its breath, the tension between the three palpable, as Raiza and Celestine sized each other up, and Milo remained caught in the eye of the storm, uncertain and alert.
Celestine gathered part of her black hair, tinged with a faint violet hue, and tied it into a sleek, high ponytail. The long tail flowed gracefully down her back, moving lightly with each step she took, adding a sense of dynamism to her presence. The strands left free danced slightly in the breeze, giving her a sharp, ready-for-action look while maintaining elegance and an air of mystery.
Celestine stood tall in the street, her body relaxed yet radiating authority, the ponytail of her hair swaying gently with every subtle movement. Her piercing eyes fixed on Raiza, every motion measured and deliberate, speaking volumes before a word was uttered: "Alright, followers of Tavian or rather, the talented ones how about you take your leave?"
Celestine's gaze shifted slowly toward Lazaro as he advanced toward her with a calm, teasing smile. The air seemed to tighten around him, every step deliberate, as if the street itself held its breath. Suddenly, a sharp tug gripped his foot—an unseen force halting him in place.
Lucas lifted his head from the cold cobblestones, blood trickling down his face, eyes burning with a mixture of pain and fury. "Our fight isn't over yet, you bastard. You're not going anywhere," he spat, his voice dripping with defiance.
Lazaro slowly pulled his foot away from Lucas, raising it gradually to deliver another kick toward his head. The air around them seemed to tighten, as if time itself had paused for a moment. Suddenly, he stopped.
Celestine, standing with unwavering poise and a piercing gaze, turned toward him. Her voice was calm yet firm:
"One more move, and you'll deal with me."
The narrow street hung in tense silence, every breath held, every glance carrying the warning of the power behind Celestine.
Celestine held a small vial containing the Healing Dust, its faint glow shimmering in the dim light. She tossed it toward Milo.
"Take this use it to heal your wounds and those of the person with you," she said in a calm but firm voice. "Now, leave this place immediately."
Milo stood on his feet, immediately heading toward Lazaro, pretending to attack. At the last moment, he dodged and scooped up Lucas, sprinting away at full speed.
This is my only chance to get out of all this, he thought to himself, heart pounding. But… who is that woman, and why did she help me?
The narrow street blurred around him as he raced against time, every step echoing with urgency, the faint glow of Celestine's Healing Dust still lingering in the air like a protective veil.
Lazaro wore a faintly angry smile as he prepared to pursue them, but before he could take a step, Celestine sent a thin beam of energy toward him—it wasn't strong enough to strike him, more like a precise warning. Lazaro easily deflected it, though he felt the slight sting of it against his skin.
Celestine's gaze bore down on him, filled with a mixture of superiority and provocation, her calm voice cutting through the tension:
"I told you to stop, yet you wouldn't listen."
A flicker of anger passed over Lazaro's face.
"What's your problem, woman?! My enemies escaped because of you!" he shouted, advancing toward her slowly, testing her patience.
Suddenly, Raiza dashed in between them with explosive speed, planting her hand firmly against Lazaro's chest as if to block him.
"Let's withdraw," Lazaro muttered, his voice now carrying a hint of unease. "This woman is incredibly strong… she works for the Guild Agency. If we fight her here, we'll only bring trouble upon ourselves."
Tension hung in the narrow street. Raiza didn't move from her position, her hand pressing against Lazaro's chest, steady and firm. Her gaze never left Celestine, silent but warning, while the air around them seemed to hum with restrained energy.
Lazaro shoved her hand aside roughly.
"Don't get in my way, katana girl. Run if you want, but I'm not leaving until I crush this woman," he snarled, eyes burning with raw intent.
Raiza ignored him completely, her crimson aura flickering faintly as she stepped back.
"Do as you please, then," she said calmly, her tone carrying a quiet defiance that made Lazaro hesitate for just a heartbeat.
In a sudden, unnerving motion, the thin, bald man stepped forward—his movement quick and eerily smooth, as if the ground shifted beneath him. Each stride carried a direct, palpable threat.
Raiza and Lazaro froze, their eyes widening in genuine shock; neither had expected such raw power to approach so abruptly. The large red pendants on his chest glowed brighter as he advanced, the tiny circling runes around them pulsing with a strange, ominous light—an outward sign of the force coiled within him.
Even in that brief stillness, his presence radiated menace. Muscles bulged and energy swelled at his command; with a blink he could become a multi-limbed juggernaut, striking and defending with brutal, unrelenting power. The alley seemed to hold its breath as the newcomer stepped into the space between them calm, deadly, and unmistakably dangerous.
Raiza stared at him, utterly shocked.
"Sharva… what are you doing here?" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and tension.
He spoke calmly and slowly.
"Mr Tavian asked me to watch you while you carry out the mission you failed," he said.
"Anyway… let's leave this place now."
Celestine looked at him with mild surprise and spoke in a calm, curious tone,
"I didn't expect Tavian to have a subordinate like you."
Her eyes scanned his thin, frail body before she added,
"You don't look strong… but I guess Im wrong."
Lazaro suddenly charged toward Celestine, energy surging violently around him.
"Damn all of you! I'm not leaving until I kill this woman!" he shouted.
In an instant, Sharva appeared before him. His arm bulged and twisted slightly, muscles swelling as he struck Lazaro's neck with incredible speed and precision. The impact was so strong that Lazaro lost consciousness immediately.
Sharva stood still for a moment, then lifted Lazaro onto his shoulder and turned his back.
"Raiza, let's go," he said calmly.
Celestine watched Sharva closely, her expression a mix of mild surprise and quiet admiration.
"Oh… stronger than I expected," she said calmly, resting one hand on her hip.
Sharva didn't look back. He kept walking steadily, carrying Lazaro on his shoulder as if he weighed nothing. After a few steps, he raised one hand high in the air, as though bidding her farewell.
"Our paths will cross again someday," he said in his calm, steady tone. "And when they do… we'll be enemies."
Celestine remained silent, her sharp eyes following them as they disappeared into the distance.
Beside him, Raiza walked in silence her steps steady, her face unreadable. Whether she was hiding her thoughts or simply accepting what had happened, no one could tell.
As Sharva and Raiza were leaving, Sharva's gaze suddenly shifted toward the spot where Milo and Lucas were hiding.
For a brief moment, his piercing eyes locked onto them cold, sharp, and heavy with power.
Milo felt a chill crawl down his spine; his breath caught for a second under the weight of that stare. But Sharva didn't approach. He simply turned away and kept walking.
After a short silence, he spoke slowly to Raiza, his tone low and deliberate:
"Why is Tavian so interested in that boy?"
Raiza looked at Milo and Sharva, then replied slowly and confidently:
"We thought he was the one who killed one of Tavian's weak followers, but it turns out he's not.
Moreover… he is Arthur's son."
Milo stood still, watching them carefully, ready for any sudden move.
Sharva continued on his path, followed closely by Raiza.
Raiza said to Milo, her voice calm but firm:
"We will meet again, milo."
Milo sat down, holding the bottle of magical healing dust, and used it to mend Lucas's head injuries.
He then placed it beside him, near the wound Raiza had inflicted.
Lucas regained consciousness and looked at Milo.
"Damn… is it all over?" he muttered.
Milo looked at him, a hint of concern in his eyes.
"Yeah… it seems so. They've already gone."
Lucas placed his hand on his head.
"Damn… all of this is because of Toxivar. I'm sorry, Milo."
Milo looked at Lucas cautiously, his voice low:
"Is… is Toxivar really capable of killing someone?"
Lucas turned his head away for a moment, his features wavering between sorrow and anger.
"Toxivar… he's… he's very strange. I don't doubt he could do it… but it's not really his fault."
A heavy silence settled between them, their heartbeats echoing in the empty street. Lucas continued, his voice tinged with bitterness, memories flashing in his eyes:
"His past… it was really dark before he came to the orphanage where we lived. His family abandoned him, and he witnessed it… because he didn't seem… normal."
Milo raised an eyebrow, puzzled:
"Strange? How so?"
Lucas met his gaze, eyes filled with grief and accusation:
"Toxivar possesses… a terrifying, negative energy. He was nothing like his parents. He was completely different. Unlike other children his age… he didn't play or have fun. His behavior… he liked hurting and tormenting small creatures."
Milo felt a chill run down his spine, pausing as he tried to process the weight of Lucas's words. The silence between them wasn't peaceful it carried a latent threat, as if Toxivar's dark past was still following them.
Milo stood still, his gaze fixed on Lucas.
"He has to face it… and admit his crimes. If he really killed that person who attacked my friend, he must be punished, no matter how terrible his circumstances are."
Lucas looked at Milo, torn between his emotions for his friend, who had lived with Toxivar, and the call for justice.
Lucas voice hardened slightly, carrying a mix of frustration and resolve:
"This isn't the first time… he always manages to escape punishment."
The weight of their words hung heavily in the air, the quiet street pressing in on them, as if echoing the tension between loyalty, justice, and the dark shadow of Toxivar's past.
Lucas held his head in his hands, pain and discomfort written across his face.
"Ugh… my head… it hurts so much… even after the healing."
Milo stood up, brushing off the tension from his shoulders, and looked at Lucas cautiously.
"What do you think… if we go and talk to Toxivar? I think I can convince him."
Toxivar looked at Milo, his gaze sharp but tinged with confusion.
"You… you really expect me to betray my friend and the troublemakers?"
Milo froze, surprise written all over his face.
"What? Wasn't I already an ally of yours?"
Lucas shook his head slightly, his expression serious but calm.
"Milo… even though you were an ally, a little while ago you were heading straight for our hideout while the talented ones were following you. If they had known where we, the troublemakers, were hiding… we would have been in serious trouble, no doubt about it."
Lucas's expression turned serious as he looked at Milo.
"He also told me… that you're no longer an ally to them. I don't think Toxivar would want to see you again."
Milo looked at him calmly, his voice measured:
"What do you mean?"
Lucas continued, his tone filled with caution and concern:
"My advice… just stay away from all of this and focus on your own life."
Milo picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts, when something caught his eye.
Toxivar's account… it was gone.
His eyes widened in shock, his heart skipping a beat.
"What…? How is this possible?"
Lucas stood up, his gaze steady as he addressed Milo.
"You're running out of time. You need to go."
He paused for a moment, his tone softening slightly.
"As for the talented ones who attacked us… we, the troublemakers, will handle them. But if they ever target you directly, just let me know. The troublemakers will come to help you on my word. Consider it a way to make up for the mistakes I made and the problems Toxivar caused you."
Even so, Milo couldn't bring himself to accept what was happening.
"What about the troublemakers…? If your leaders are evil, Lucas, you need to leave that gang."
Lucas looked at Milo steadily, resolve hardening his features.
"Milo, despite everything, we have different goals. I want to fight the Church's evil and its injustice to protect those I care about. If my leaders ever try to hurt the people I love, I'll take them down myself."
Lucas smiled at Milo, calm but resolute.
"All that matters to me, Milo, is my family. I know the troublemakers are weak, and we won't be able to defeat the Church… not yet. But at least we'll make our voices heard."
He added firmly, "And our leaders? None of their evil plans will succeed."
Milo looked at him, seeing a truth in his eyes that couldn't be denied not foolishness, but stubbornness rooted in protecting those he loved. Milo exhaled slowly and replied, his voice calmer yet steady:
"Alright… just don't take a step you'll regret"
As Milo and Lucas were deep in their discussion, a sudden presence made them both freeze.
Out of the shadows, a figure stepped forward, her movements graceful and deliberate. Milo's eyes widened, and Lucas, usually cautious, stiffened in surprise.
It was Celestine.
Her piercing gaze swept over them, calm yet commanding, and the faint sway of her high ponytail gave her an aura of quiet authority. The street seemed to grow colder, the tension rising immediately as if the air itself recognized her presence.
Milo blinked, a bit flustered, his voice uncertain.
"It's… it's you…
Are… are you?"
Celestine smiled at him gently, her expression calm and kind.
"Yes," she said softly. "I heard your entire conversation."
Suddenly, Celestine spoke, her voice calm and composed despite everything happening around them.
"I've suffered while searching for even the simplest information about him," she said softly, her tone soothing yet firm.
Milo and Lucas exchanged a surprised glance, taken aback by her calm and focused demeanor. Even amid the tension, her words carried weight, as if every syllable reflected experience and deep understanding.
Lucas stepped forward without hesitation. In a flash of practiced movement he shaped a makeshift energy pistol in his palm and leveled it at Celestine as if daring her to move.
Milo's eyes went wide. "Hey Lucas, wait!" he barked, lunging slightly between them.
Lucas didn't look away. His voice was low and burning with hatred. "You can take me, but no matter what happens I won't tell you a single thing about him, you government dogs." The barb was aimed at Celestine, but it carried the weight of every betrayal Lucas felt.
Celestine didn't flinch for a single beat. Her smile only widened a slow, unnerving curl that made Lucas's anger flare hotter.
Before he could think, she closed over his wrist, her fingers cool and steady. The makeshift energy pistol trembled in his grip as she guided it so the barrel pressed against the hollow of her throat.
"You've been fighting for a long time," she said softly, every word deliberate. "You're exhausted. Your head still hurts." Her voice was almost pitying; Lucas's knuckles went white.
He tightened his grip.
Celestine's eyes never left his. "As for me," she continued, calm and unshakable, "I'm at full strength. I don't feel even a trace of fatigue. Do you really think a shot from a weapon forged out of your energy could kill me?"
Lucas's breath hitched. The hatred in him burned, but her confidence the absolute absence of fear worked like an acid on his resolve. He could feel the tremor in his arm, the memory of blows and sleepless nights and the dull throb in his skull.
Celestine leaned in, close enough that he could see the steady rise and fall of her chest. "Go on," she invited, voice low. "Do it. I won't defend myself with my energy. Your bullet will strike my body directly. Make your choice."
Milo's shout broke from his throat, raw and desperate. "Lucas don't!"
Lucas's weapon vanished, and he calmly returned his hand to its place, taking a moment to steady himself.
Celestine smiled at him, her expression calm and measured.
"Good choice… Now, where were we…"
Suddenly, Lucas grabbed Milo's hand and bolted, running with surprising speed.
Milo's eyes widened in shock at Lucas's sudden haste.
Celestine remained perfectly still, watching them both with quiet, unwavering attention, as if every movement was under her control and scrutiny.
Milo shouted after Lucas as they ran, frustration and confusion clear in his voice.
"Why are you in such a hurry? I had so many questions for her!"
Lucas shot him a glare, a mix of anger and unease flickering across his face.
"Damn your questions! If she catch us, we'll be in real trouble!"
Celestine slipped her hand into her pocket and lifted her head high, letting out a soft sigh.
"Damn… I'm really exhausted from work all day. I suppose I'll leave this for tomorrow," she muttered, her voice carrying a mix of fatigue and amusement.
Her eyes followed Milo and Lucas as they ran, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"You really are like your father… always falling into other people's troubles and treating them as if they were your own."
She exhaled slowly, her gaze lingering for a moment.
"Milo… son of Arthur."
The atmosphere in the final scene was charged with subtle contrasts a blend of tension and calm, movement and stillness.
As Milo and Lucas sprinted through the narrow alleys, the air was thick with the scent of dust and the chill of the night. Every step echoed against the cobblestones, each twist and turn of the streets carrying the weight of potential danger, as if the city itself were watching their flight. Milo's heartbeat raced with the adrenaline of escape, a mix of fear and responsibility etched across his face, while Lucas moved with tense precision, eyes scanning every shadow as if it were a threat.
In stark contrast, Celestine stood perfectly still in the street, her presence unshaken amidst the chaos. Her calm smile and piercing gaze followed every movement, exuding an aura of authority and quiet control. The faint sway of her high ponytail in the light breeze added a touch of grace to her composed demeanor, emphasizing the calm center in the midst of a storm.