Ash fell like snow that had forgotten winter.
The ridge smelled of blood cooled on stone, of old rain baked out of rust, of smoke that had no fire left to claim it. Silence pressed down until it seemed even the mountain was waiting for permission to breathe again.
Then the villagers remembered. Throats opened in uneven chorus. A cheer rose—not polished, not proud, but raw as torn cloth. Some laughed through tears. Some knelt and pressed their foreheads to dirt. One boy, his cheek bandaged, raised both fists in the air as if strength could be contagious.
Andy stood in the middle of it all, the Oathblade at his side, ember still glowing faintly along the spine. He did not raise the blade or his voice. His chest rose once, steady. Aura folded inward, quiet, obedient—more hearth than storm now.
The system touched him again.
[Dragon Resonance — Tier II Acquired]
Effect: Aura stability improved | Threat projection refined | Elemental balance enhanced
He tasted it. The aura no longer pressed against his skin like a beast begging release. It circled him like loyal wolves, sharp when needed, still when told. His breath carried less weight, but more authority.
Nia lowered the Staff of Lumina. Blood streaked her glove, but her grip was steady. Her lattice dimmed to faint stars, each rune folding itself shut as if tucking children into bed. Her eyes found Andy first, then the villagers. She brushed ash from her cheek as if brushing away doubt.
"You held them," Andy said quietly.
Her lips curved, not quite a smile, not quite refusal. "I always will."
She stepped close enough to smooth a streak of ichor off his jaw with the back of her fingers. Possessive, tender, inevitable.
Aurelia cleaned her daggers with unnecessary flourish, flicking black drops into dirt already drunk on death. Her grin was wild and soft at once.
"You stole the killing stroke," she accused, light as a joke, sharp as a test.
"You opened the seam," Andy replied.
"I always do," she said. Then she leaned against his right side, pressing shoulder to arm, eyes glittering under lashes. "Remember to pay your invoice. Hero work has overhead."
Her laugh made two exhausted soldiers chuckle without knowing why.
Nia's gaze narrowed. Her staff clicked once against the ground, deliberate. Aurelia's grin widened, unapologetic.
Between them, Andy stood steady, aura wrapping both as naturally as a cloak cut to size.
The system chimed again, brighter, higher, as if the stars themselves had leaned closer.
[Constellation Sync — Orion]
Nia ⭐ 90% | Aurelia ⭐ 85%
Tier II Combined: 100%
Status: Orion Tier II Complete
Buffs Unlocked:
- Dragon Resonance II (Active)
- Shared Inventory Expanded
- Constellation Technique: Vector Prism Sync (Stable)
Above the ridge, the night sky rippled. Orion's belt brightened—three stars burning so fiercely they pulled faint new lines into being. Constellations shifted, as if the heavens themselves were remembering a story they had almost forgotten. The villagers gasped and crossed themselves, though they did not know to which god.
Andy exhaled, the Oathblade humming softer, its edge no longer demanding but listening. "Tier II is done," he said. The words were not triumph. They were acknowledgment.
Nia rested her staff against her shoulder. "Tier III will not wait."
Aurelia's grin turned sly. "Good. I was getting bored."
The ridge fell quiet again, but not with fear this time. Quiet like a field after harvest, when the soil has given what it can and waits for the next season.
Beyond the ridge, the corrupted sky cracked faintly, wrong light bleeding through. The sound was distant, patient, inevitable. Another storm was waiting.
Andy lifted his gaze to it. The stars above blinked steady, the constellation burning brighter, as if daring the darkness to try again.
The villagers clung to each other. Nia's hand lingered on his shoulder. Aurelia's hip brushed his arm.
And the night, though wounded, endured.