Aren finally surrendered to sleep.
His breathing gradually steadied, his fingers loosening over the coarse blanket.
His awareness faded like the last flicker of a candle at the end of the night…
And somewhere else in the city, another candle was being lit.
At the farthest edge of Rotana, where noise thinned and footsteps grew heavy, an ancient stone hall stood tall.
Its walls were high and arched, swallowing sound before it could be born.
The air was cold, carrying nothing but the scent of damp incense and aged stone.
It was a church.
At its front stood a massive statue, its features worn away by time, yet its majesty remained.
At its feet sat a girl in a dark nun's robe, the fabric spilling onto the floor like a long shadow.
She was praying.
The silence in the hall was no ordinary silence…
It was sharp—like a blade resting against a throat.
Her lips moved slowly, without a sound.
Then, at some undefined moment, she raised her head toward the statue.
Her eyes—
There was no black, no color within them.
Only pure white, as if life had never once passed through them.
And yet… she did not seem blind.
It was as though she could see what could not be seen.
Thin trails of blue tears streamed down her cheeks.
They did not flow like natural liquid—
They looked like glowing cracks, as though her face had split open to reveal a strange light beneath.
She was magnificent to behold…
And terrifying all the same.
She rose slowly, her movements steady and composed.
She did not turn—yet she paused.
In one corner of the hall, where light reached only as a faint thread, a shadow appeared.
Only half of his face was visible…
And a gaze gleaming with the reflection of candlelight.
A faint smile formed on his lips.
"Hello… Sister Angel."
She did not flinch.
She did not turn.
In a calm, emotionless voice, she replied:
"It has been a week since you came to the church…
That is truly a bad sign."
There was mild reproach in her tone—but no heat.
He chuckled lightly.
"I have matters to attend to.
Not all of my time is as empty as tonight."
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then she asked,
"Have you returned again to inquire about that matter?"
"There is no other reason."
He stepped forward, his shadow stretching across the stone floor.
"So… how far have you progressed in investigating it?"
She lowered her head slightly, the blue tears glinting beneath the light.
"We are in the midst of it.
Do not worry.
The completion of the plan is very near."
She paused, then added:
"Two weeks at most."
His smile widened within the darkness.
"Well done… truly well done, Sister Angel."
His voice grew deeper.
"I will keep my promise as well.
I will free you from that curse of yours… Sister Angel.
So you need not worry either."
At the word curse…
The tips of her fingers trembled faintly.
But her face remained calm.
Heavy seconds passed.
Then his footsteps echoed against the stone as he stepped back.
One step… then another…
As if withdrawing from a stage, leaving the curtain half open.
Before disappearing completely, she spoke without lifting her head:
"Do you not wish to pray?"
He stopped.
He did not turn this time.
Nothing of his face was visible—only his back, bathed in half-light and half-shadow.
"Well…" he said lightly, "next time."
Then he added, as though it were insignificant:
"I have something I must take care of."
Silence returned.
But this time…
It was not the same silence.
The shadow vanished entirely, leaving Angel alone before the statue.
She slowly lifted her head.
Her white eyes turned upward, toward the statue's face.
She whispered:
"Two weeks…"
Another drop of blue traced its way down her cheek.
"Will that be enough… or are we already too late?"
The candles trembled, as if an unseen breeze had passed between them.
And somewhere in the city…
Aren slept, unaware that invisible threads had begun weaving around him.
Threads passing through a silent church,
Through a nun with colorless eyes,
Through a man who smiled in the dark…
And the coming two weeks…
Would not be ordinary.
Night returned us to the inn.
The noise had faded, leaving only scattered whispers and the sound of cups touching wood.
Near a window, Rai sat alone.
She leaned against her hand, fingers pressing against her temple as if trying to stop the rush of thoughts inside her head.
Her features were slightly pale, her eyes half-lidded—not sleepy…
But heavy.
She slowly lifted her gaze toward the ceiling, staring at the hanging lamp swaying gently with a draft slipping through the cracks.
She whispered,
"What should I do tomorrow…?"
Her voice was not directed at anyone.
It was a question suspended in the air.
"I'm truly tired… and confused."
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly, as if rearranging her thoughts.
"But… why does training with Aren make me feel stronger?"
Her eyes opened suddenly.
"Stronger than when I train alone."
Her fingers trembled slightly against the table.
"Is it because I have a partner?… Or—"
She stopped.
Her brows furrowed.
"Was his energy… flowing into me without me realizing it?"
A brief silence followed.
Then she shook her head firmly.
"That's ridiculous."
She gave a light, self-mocking laugh and tapped her cheek.
"Rai… wake up.
Aren is still in the mana stabilization stage.
He can't share his mana with anyone."
She froze for a moment.
Then murmured more softly,
"But…"
A tired side-smile appeared.
"I forgot… that's Aren."
His image resurfaced in her mind—
His strange calmness, his gaze in battle, the sudden leaps in his growth.
"You can't rule out every possibility with him."
Her voice dropped further.
"Reaching the second pattern that fast…
And possessing magical power that surpasses even its limits…"
She bit her lip.
"Impossible.
Incomprehensible."
She reached for the empty cup before her, rolling it between her fingers.
"Impossible… but I saw it."
She exhaled sharply, then straightened suddenly as if fleeing the thought.
"Sasha! Another drink over here."
A reply came from behind the counter:
"Right away."
Silence returned briefly.
Rai lowered her gaze to her hand.
She slowly opened and closed her palm.
"I need to train more."
She studied the lines of her fingers, as if searching for an answer carved into them.
"I still can't use my full strength in battle…"
Her fist tightened.
"I don't know why…
But the moment I use one of my combat techniques…"
Her voice trembled.
"I can't maintain it.
Five minutes… barely."
She remembered her last fight.
The heat surging through her veins.
The power erupting without warning.
Then… emptiness.
Weakness.
Collapse.
"It's like my body rejects my own power."
She shut her eyes tightly.
"Or am I the one rejecting it?"
The cup was placed before her.
She didn't even look at Sasha.
She held it—but didn't drink immediately.
"This is bad…"
She leaned back in her chair, lifting her face toward the ceiling once more.
"I stepped into this damned world… and I know nothing about it."
The sarcasm faded from her voice, replaced by genuine weight.
"Cities, races, magical patterns…
Secrets…
Plans I don't understand."
She paused.
Then sighed slowly, as if even the air hurt her chest.
"And since that catastrophe…"
Her voice lowered further.
"…that befell my people…"
Her face stiffened.
The lamp's light reflected in her eyes, giving them a fractured gleam.
"I can't endure this."
A long moment passed without movement.
Then she whispered,
"I thought I survived."
Her grip tightened around the cup.
"But survival isn't salvation."
She closed her eyes.
"I don't just want to live."
Her eyes snapped open, sharp this time.
"I want to be strong."
Her voice trembled—but did not break.
"Strong enough so it never happens again."
She lowered her head slightly.
"Strong enough to protect… those who stand beside me."
She hesitated.
"…Even that idiot Aren."
A faint smile appeared—then faded quickly.
"But if I remain like this…
Unable after five minutes…
Exhausted after every technique I try to unleash…"
Her fist clenched until her knuckles whitened.
"I'll be nothing but a burden."
Silence.
Then, with a calmer maturity, she said:
"Tomorrow… I'll start again."
She finally took a sip from her cup.
"I'll force my body to adapt.
I'll push my limits one step further… even if I break."
She lifted her gaze toward the lamp, as though addressing something beyond it.
"This world won't wait for my weakness."
Her voice softened to a whisper:
"And neither will I."
At that moment, the inn looked as ordinary as ever—
Cups, wood, distant laughter.
But in one corner,
Rai was slowly reshaping herself.
A girl who emerged from catastrophe,
Carrying power she could not control,
Standing at the edge of a merciless world.
And tomorrow…
She would not be the same as today.