The night wind was cold.
It carried no screams, no explosions, no crumbling stone. Only silence… the kind that comes after something enormous has died. The caravan rolled across the barren plains, its wheels crunching dried soil and scattered bone.
No one spoke.
Even Zentake—normally a fountain of jokes, threats, and manic commentary—sat with his chin resting on his knees, staring back at the distant glow of Giggleburg's funeral flames. The city burned behind them like a fallen star, its blue fire staining the sky. It looked unreal. Dreamlike. Something that shouldn't exist.
Nogare drove without looking back. His hands were steady, but his shoulders were heavy. Yoshiya watched him from the side—trying to read the silence, the weight, the calculation still moving behind those eyes.
Omina slept against Yoshiya's arm, her breathing soft and uneven. Her skin was still warm from the Berserk's afterburn. Her fingers twitched occasionally—like she was grasping something in a dream. Yoshiya brushed her hair gently away from her face.
She didn't wake.
The road stretched on.
Trees became thin.
Grass became brittle.
The night air grew colder.
Finally, Nogare spoke.
"We camp here."
Just that. No explanation. No justification.
The caravan rolled to a stop beside a dry riverbed. The moonlight painted everything silver and pale.
Zentake hopped down first, shaking off the stillness like dust.
"Alright, alright! Camp time!" He dumped a sack of loot beside his bedroll and started counting—gold bits, crystal fragments, silver pins, demon totems. Each piece glimmered with the faint residue of a city that no longer existed.
He hummed while he worked—off-key, soft, eerily calm.
Omina curled beside Yoshiya on the blankets, finally breathing more steadily. He stayed awake beside her, just watching the fire Nogare built dance and flicker between them.
Nogare didn't sit. He stood by the flames, arms crossed, staring into the night.
There was no triumph in him. Only certainty.
The certainty of someone who had done what needed to be done.
Yoshiya didn't know if that was comforting or terrifying.
---
Scene 2 – The Cave of Light
Dawn came slowly, like the world was hesitant to reveal itself again.
They ate a simple meal—flat bread and dried meat warmed over embers. Omina was awake, though quiet, leaning against Yoshiya's shoulder. Zentake whistled as he packed, already in a good mood again.
The road back to Korvath curved past a low ridge of dark stone. As they crossed it, Yoshiya saw something glowing just ahead—faint, pulsing light seeping from between rocks.
"A cave?" he murmured.
Zentake squinted. "That's not sunlight."
He was already halfway off the caravan. "Let's go!"
The entrance was narrow, but the inside opened like a cathedral.
Crystal pillars reached from floor to ceiling, refracting dawn light into rainbow shards. Each crystal hummed softly, vibrating with concentrated mana. The sound was not musical—more like the whisper of wind through glass.
Zentake's eyes lit up. "We are going to be so rich."
Nogare didn't slap his hand or warn him. He simply said, "Careful. These are alive in their own way."
Zentake paused—only a beat—then slowed down.
Still greedy. But cautious now.
Yoshiya approached one of the crystals.
The light inside it pulsed.
Like a heartbeat.
Deep. Steady. Living.
His chest tightened.
His own mana responded, resonating, like the crystal recognized him.
Nogare watched him.
"You'll need these soon."
Yoshiya swallowed. "Because I'm a White Mage…?"
"And because you're changing," Nogare said. "Your spells grow faster. Your burden grows too."
Burden. The word hung there.
Yoshiya placed a hand on the crystal. It was warm.
Alive warmth.
Like the warmth of someone's palm pressing back.
Zentake collected shards that had already broken naturally—carefully avoiding harming the living crystal formations. Omina helped, her movements gentler now, steady in a way that made Yoshiya feel grounded again.
When they stepped out of the cave, the sun was rising—light gold spilling across the world.
---
Scene 3 – Unseen Echo
The road home felt softer now—rolling hills and quiet wind, birds returning to morning air as though last night had not held fire enough to swallow a city whole.
Nogare took the reins once more.
"We should reach Korvath by midday."
Zentake stretched back in the caravan, arms behind his head, a smug grin spreading across his face.
"Midday and I'll be richer, stronger, and more handsome than yesterday. A successful business trip."
Omina rolled her eyes. "The bar is so low, Zentake. So very low."
Zentake gasped. "Slander. Betrayal. Cruelty."
Yoshiya didn't laugh.
He was looking down at the mana crystal resting in his palm.
It pulsed again.
Soft.
Steady.
Alive.
His heartbeat matched it.
Omina leaned closer, voice quiet. "You're thinking again."
"Yeah."
"About Giggleburg?"
"About… everything."
Omina placed her hand over his—over the crystal.
Her warmth wrapped around the pulse.
"We're still here," she whispered.
He nodded.
Nogare didn't turn, but Yoshiya knew he had heard.
Zentake began humming again. The road stretched forward. The world felt like it was holding its breath.
Giggleburg was behind them.
But its echo was coming with them.