Floating above the ruins of the house was a figure of great beauty. Her long blonde hair billowed in the wind, and her piercing green eyes locked onto Nathan with a cold, familiar intensity. She hovered gracefully.
It had been a while since he had last seen her as well.
Gwen Lawrence.
Beside her was a small, green-haired creature, flitting about like a fairy, her wings shimmering faintly in the dim light. I recognized her from long ago, though her presence was still somewhat foreign to me.
Iphlea, her name was. Gwen’s little companion, likely born of her SS rank skill. Since Gwen had obtained that power, it seemed she had gained more than just strength—this tiny, whimsical creature had appeared at her side. The delicate figure of Iphlea floated closer, her wide eyes narrowing in my direction before they widened in astonishment.
“I… I can’t believe it, Gwen… he can see me…” Iphlea’s voice trembled, barely a whisper, but the shock was clear in her tone. Her gaze darted back and forth between Gwen and me, her expression a mix of disbelief and fear.
I wasn’t supposed to see her?
“Really?” Gwen’s voice was calm, yet even she raised an eyebrow in surprise. Her usual composure was momentarily disturbed, her brow furrowing as she glanced from me to her nervous companion.
“This guy… he’s bad news. You can’t beat him, Gwen. Let’s retreat,” Iphlea urged, her voice strained with apprehension. The little creature’s eyes were filled with dread as she turned to Gwen, practically begging her to leave.
She wasn’t wrong. Gwen couldn’t defeat me—not here, not now.
And I hoped she will retreat instead of fighting me.
I was no longer a classmate. I was a mercenary for Troy, bound to its cause. If it came to a fight, I wouldn’t be able to completely hold back.
I didn’t want to fight her, though. Gwen had always been different—aloof, yes, but in her own way, she had helped me before. She didn’t seek recognition for her actions, but I had noticed. I always had. In class, she was one of the few who had somewhat helped me, even if only indirectly. I respected her for that.
I met Gwen’s eyes, coldly.
Run.
Don’t make me do this.
For a brief moment, she seemed to waver, as if considering Iphlea’s advice. But then, a voice shattered the tension.
“Gwen!” Siara’s voice rang out as she emerged from the wreckage of the house, her face alight with relief at the sight of the floating blonde girl.
Siara and Gwen, closer than I had imagined.
It seemed in the nine months that had passed since the last time I saw them, something had changed between the two. Whether it was mere friendship or something deeper, I couldn’t say. Though, if I was being honest with myself, I had half-wondered if something had also happened between Siara and Jason during this time.
The possibility gnawed at the back of my mind, but it was a question for another time.
“Gwen… he’s with Troy, but…” Siara’s voice faltered, her eyes shifting between us as if searching for the right words. She wanted to say more, but hesitation held her back, fear and confusion mingling in her expression. She didn’t finish her sentence.
Gwen’s gaze didn’t leave mine, her face unreadable as she slowly raised her hand, the air around her rippling with the faint shimmer of magic. Iphlea’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Gwen! What are you doing? Take your friend and run away now!” Iphlea cried, her tiny form darting toward Gwen in a frantic attempt to stop her. “This isn’t a fight you can win!”
Before anything more could happen, another voice called out—this time from behind me.
“Heiron! What are you doing?”
I turned my head slightly, catching a glimpse of Aeneas in the midst of the battlefield. His face was marked with a mix of confusion and concern, his body tense with the weight of the situation.
“I’m doing my job,” I replied calmly, pointing toward the Trojan girl standing behind me, trembling in fear. “Take this girl to safety. I’ll hold them back.”
Aeneas hesitated, his gaze darting between me, the girl, and the flames consuming the distant horizon. His eyes lingered on Gwen and Siara, both of whom stood ready, the weight of impending conflict hanging in the air.
“Are you sure it’s fine?” he asked, his tone laced with genuine concern.
I couldn’t help but notice the sincerity in his voice. Despite everything, despite me being nothing more than a mercenary, he showed compassion. I almost forgot—he was Aphrodite’s son. Her gentle request echoed in my mind: “Look out for him if possible.”
“Yes, it’s fine,” I assured him. “Take care of her. You need to focus on getting the survivors out of Lyrnessus. That’s your mission. We mercenaries are here to buy you time. Do your job, and let us do ours.”
Aeneas blinked, surprised by my words, but the brief flicker of hesitation faded into a grateful smile. He gave me a quick nod. “Thank you, Heiron.”
Without wasting another second, he gently took the Trojan girl’s arm and hurried off, leaving me alone with Gwen and Siara as the shadows of the city pressed in.
The wind howled softly in the distance, carrying with it the scent of burning wood and the distant cries of war. Gwen’s gaze, sharp, was locked on me. Her stance was tense, her body brimming with untapped power.
“Gwen!” Iphlea had enough of Gwen trying to pick fight with me.
“Why run?” Gwen shot back angrily. “If he’s with Troy, it means we’ll meet him in battle eventually. I might as well take my chances now.”
She wasn’t wrong. Conflict was inevitable. The tides of fate would eventually pit us against each other. Still, I had no desire to fight my classmates. Avoiding them completely honestly seemed impossible but I wanted to keep my identity secret at least to the Divine Knights. Liphiel might be there after all.
Iphlea remained silent for a moment, clearly conflicted. Then, with a resigned sigh, she relented. “Fine. I will help you.”
The air around Iphlea shimmered with a sudden surge of mana. Her small frame trembled slightly as immense power radiated from her. The energy flowed like a river, spiraling outward before converging into Gwen’s body. The ground beneath us quivered with the sheer magnitude of the magic, and I felt the wind shift, growing colder, sharper.
“Eight-rank Wind Magic,” Gwen whispered, her voice barely audible over the roaring wind.
Before my eyes, she conjured a lance of swirling wind, long and deadly, its edges cutting through the air with a ferocious speed. The force of it whipped through my hair, sending loose strands flying.
“Get back, Siara!” Gwen ordered.
Siara nodded, retreating quickly to a safer distance, her face pale. I kept my focus on Gwen, watching her closely. Her strength had grown—remarkably so. An eighth-rank spell wasn’t something to take lightly, and the fact she wielded it so effortlessly was proof of her power. But I wasn’t surprised. I always knew Gwen was strong.
From just one glance, I could tell she stood on par with Ayaka, though Akane’s power still seemed greater.
I exhaled, steadying myself as Gwen’s eyes narrowed, her focus intense.
“Now!” Iphlea’s voice echoed through the space, giving Gwen the signal.
The swirling lance of wind shot toward me with incredible speed, the air around it crackling with raw power.
I didn’t try to defend myself.
BADOOOOM!
The explosion rippled through the air, sending shockwaves across all of Lyrnessus. Houses behind me were split apart, their walls crumbling under the force of the blast. Dust and debris filled the sky as I was flung backward, skidding across the ground until my momentum was stopped by a single remaining wall, hundreds of meters away.
Through the haze of dust, I could hear the faint murmur of voices—Gwen and Iphlea, floating cautiously toward me.
“Did we get him?!” Iphlea’s voice trembled with nervous energy, her tiny frame taut with anticipation.
The dust swirled around them, obscuring their view, but Gwen wasted no time. With a flick of her hand, she summoned a gust of wind, clearing the air around me. When her eyes finally fell on me, her expression shifted from confidence to shock.
I was still standing.
My arm, raised protectively, had taken the full brunt of the attack. The sleeve of my shirt was shredded, but instead of torn flesh, an icy armor encased my arm—gleaming and cold, like a second skin. Beneath that icy surface, my true skin remained untouched, protected by the magic I had long learned to wield.
A crack ran through the ice on my arm—from the power of Gwen’s eighth-rank spell—but that was the extent of the damage.
“Impossible!” Iphlea gasped, her face pale with disbelief. “He barely took any damage from an eighth-rank magic!”
Gwen remained silent, but the urgency in her eyes spoke volumes. She hadn’t expected me to withstand her attack so easily. Her fingers trembled slightly, though she tried to hide it.
I lowered my arm, allowing the ice to glimmer in the fading sunlight. A smirk played on my lips. “My turn now.”
The atmosphere around me shifted as my body emitted an icy aura, colder than any wind Gwen could summon. It wasn’t exactly like Khione’s, but there was an unmistakable similarity—an aura that felt almost divine, reminiscent of a Goddess’s power.
Iphlea’s face went ghostly white as she sensed it, fear radiating from her tiny frame.
“Gwen! RUN! NOW!” Iphlea screamed, her voice shrill with panic.
Gwen hesitated only for a second before propelling herself backward with a burst of wind, shooting away from me with astonishing speed. She had no choice but to retreat, but I had no intention of letting her go so easily.
This was my little payback.
I extended my arm, icy energy swirling at my fingertips. “Celestial Rank Magic,” I murmured, my voice low but brimming with power. My mana condensed in the air, forming a lance of pure ice, far more potent than Gwen’s wind-based weapon.
“Celestial Frozen Lance.”
The lance shot forward, a blur of icy blue streaking through the air at a speed that dwarfed Gwen’s earlier attack. The wind around it howled in protest, ripped apart by the sheer force of the magic. In less than two seconds, it closed the distance between us, hurtling toward Gwen with deadly precision.
She wouldn’t die from it since she was a Hero but she will definitely took quite the damages if she took the attack head-on. It would tear through her defenses like paper. But I wasn’t trying to kill her—I knew Iphlea would intervene. She had to.
“Iphlea!” Gwen called concerned for her little friend.
“I will take care of it!” Iphlea cried, darting in front of Gwen. Her tiny hands stretched forward, a barrier of mana forming between them just as the lance reached her.
CRAK!
BADOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!