"Ugh!"

A groan escaped from my throat as my body hit the ground and went tumbling across the endless white void.

I tried to push myself up, forcing my arms to obey, but my strength betrayed me. My elbows buckled, and I collapsed back on the cold, pale surface with a ragged sigh.

"That's enough for today."

I tilted my head weakly, my eyes landing on Nevia. She stood there—perfect posture, unruffled, her glowing white eyes regarding me without a flicker of pity.

Truly a Ice Queen.

"Did I… do well?" I asked.

"I suppose, for what you are capable of."

"That sounds suspiciously like an insult," I muttered, trying to catch my breath.

She didn't bother answering.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to roll to my knees. My legs trembled, but I pushed off the ground, leaping to my feet in one motion. I plastered a grin on my face, trying to hide the exhaustion gnawing at me.

"Will I ever get a compliment from you, Nevia?" I asked, half-joking, half-hopeful.

Her gaze slid to me. "Complimenting you won't get you anywhere. You need to believe you are always lacking in order to progress."

"Wouldn't that just… depress me?" I shot back, raising a brow.

"If your mind is so weak, then there is nothing I can do for you. Only those with ambition strong enough to endure dissatisfaction can ever climb higher."

"Let me guess…" I tilted my head. "That little philosophy of yours—did you steal it from someone else?"

Nevia gave me no answer. She was a master at letting silence do the talking.

I exhaled through my nose, then shifted topics. "Alright then. Since when do you know Cleenah? Can you at least answer me that?"

"Since long ago."

I gave a dry laugh, lowering my gaze. "That's… very specific. Thanks. You know, despite her being the one who's stuck with me the longest, despite her always talking to me more than anyone else… I still feel like I'm light-years away from her. Even compared to you."

"Harivel is different," Nevia said. "You should forget whatever feelings you think you have for her. You will never reach her. She is already too far beyond your grasp."

I grimaced at her cold answer.

"That's harsh. What about you then, Nevia? Am I allowed to reach you?"

She froze mid-step. Slowly, she turned her head back toward me, her white eyes glowing brighter, colder, as if they were staring through me.

"It's time," she said, lifting her finger in my direction. "Time for you to return to your prison."

Before I could respond, the world folded in on itself. A violent pull dragged me backward, and the white void vanished.

What a tsundere.

-Thud!

I slammed down onto something cold, damp, and real. My face pressed into stone, the chill biting into my skin.

"…I hate this place." My voice cracked with bitterness as I ran a hand through my tangled hair.

"Did you have a good time with Nevia?"

I jerked my head to the side, my eyes widening.

Cleenah hovered in the air, her figure glowing faintly as though she were made of moonlight itself. A teasing smirk curled on her lips.

For a heartbeat, I couldn't move. It felt like an eternity had passed since I last saw her—even though, logically, it had only been two weeks. But Cleenah never arrived like a normal person. She always slipped in and out of existence, appearing without warning, leaving me to wonder if it was real or if I had simply dreamed her again.

"Are you… real?" I whispered.

"Perhaps." Her smile deepened, playful.

I let out a long breath. "…Whatever. As long as you're here."

That was all that mattered.

I looked at her for a moment, then blurted out, "Do you have any advice on how to confess to Nevia?"

Her brows shot up in surprise. "Wow. Edward being decisive? That's new. Weird, even. Did Layla's heartfelt little visit rub off on you?"

Heartfelt?

I nearly got raped!

But as weird it was, I got aroused seeing Layla coming strongly toward me!

Cleenah's smirk widened knowingly. "You just thought of something indecent, didn't you?"

I gave a nonchalant shrug. "Who knows."

She floated closer, her expression softening just slightly. "If you want Nevia to fall for you, Edward, then I wish you luck. Maybe—just maybe—you might have had a chance ten thousand years ago. But now? Her heart is frozen."

"I'll melt it then." The words slipped out without hesitation.

"So brazen," she whispered, amused. "Do you really like Nevia that much?"

I didn't answer right away. I didn't even know if what I felt for Nevia could be called love. But I knew one thing for certain: I wanted her beside me. Always.

And recently I had this strange feeling that she was going to leave me so I was thinking of ideas to keep her by my side.

Instead of answering, I asked, "How about you tell me where you've been all this time?"

Cleenah chuckled.

"Did you miss me that much, Edward?" She teased, laughing softly.

I snorted, turning my head away. "Something like that."

Her glow brightened faintly as she drifted down, leaning close. "Don't worry." Her voice dropped to a whisper that brushed against my ear. "I have always been by your side. Always."

***

My eyes fluttered open to the sight of a pale white ceiling. For a moment, I wondered if I was still dreaming, but the dull ache in my body reminded me otherwise.

Something warm pressed against my side. I turned my head slightly

Amaya was curled against me, her head resting on my chest, her breathing soft and steady.

I can't be surprised anymore.

"You are awake."

I shifted my gaze to the other side of the room.

Sitting there, as though he had every right to intrude on my recovery, was the Olphean King himself.

My eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" I asked, curt, more bite in my tone than I bothered to hide.

"You seemed to be having a nightmare."

"That was the best dream I've had in days. The real nightmare is you being in my room."

His expression didn't change. "I made a choice, as King of the Olphean Kingdom, not to anger Zeus. I hope you can understand that."

"I don't care about your excuses," I cut him off. "And I'm not upset—believe it or not. What I do care about is why you're here. And don't insult me by pretending it's out of concern. I'm not stupid."

For the first time, something flickered across his face at my words. He leaned forward slightly. "I saw you wielding that bow. You truly do carry the Olphean royal bloodline."

"Yeah, maybe." I shrugged.

"Yet yours is… incomplete," he said.

"Incomplete? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have the blood," he explained slowly, "but it is not developed to its full potential—not like mine, or my son's."

To emphasize, he pulled back his sleeve and raised his left arm.

My eyes fell on the amber emblem etched into his flesh. It looked like mine, but while mine was a faint mark only covering the back of my hand, his stretched all the way up his arm, glowing faintly like amber trapped beneath his skin.

"Athena herself awakened my bloodline. So why wouldn't she awaken it fully?"

That caught his attention. His head tilted. "Athena herself, you say? And why would you need her intervention?"

I hesitated, my mouth half-open, then snapped it shut. The truth wasn't simple. It wasn't like I'd asked her to awaken it. It had been more like… receiving a message that couldn't be refused. She'd spoken of Cleenah, of a request tied to her. That wasn't something I planned to explain to him.

"I had… some issues, that's all," I muttered instead.

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't press further. Instead, he gestured toward me. "May I see your emblem?"

With a sigh, I raised my hand, showing him the faint amber mark etched into my skin.

He looked at it closely, his expression unreadable at first—then his brows furrowed.

"What?" I asked.

"Everything appears… normal. I suppose." His voice lacked conviction. He stood abruptly ready to leave.

I sat up a little straighter. "Wait. If one of my weapons breaks—how do I restore it?"

The question had been in my mind ever since Perseus and Aegis had shattered.

"They will return with time," he said casually.

I bit down on the urge to snap at him. With time? I'd been waiting for ages already, and nothing had happened. But I swallowed the frustration, choosing silence.

Instead, I asked, "And what about Rulana? Did you manage to get anything out of her?"

"We are still trying," he said.

"Of course you are," I muttered, pushing myself up and shifting just enough to stir Amaya awake. She stirred against me, her eyelids fluttering open.

"I should leave you alone," the King said finally. Without waiting for my reply, he turned and walked out.

I let him go without another word. Only when the door shut did I glance back at Amaya.

"You were here the whole time?" I asked quietly.

She gave me a simple nod. Still half-drowsy, she reached toward the small shelf by the bed, fingers brushing against the flask resting there.

I arched a brow. "Blood first thing in the morning, huh?"

She nodded again, wordless, and lifted it to her lips, sipping delicately. I noticed the flask was almost drained—only a thin film left clinging to the glass. Well, it wasn't like we'd be staying long. We'd be gone soon, back toward Vanadias. It would be fine.

With a sigh, I swung my legs off the bed and stood. My neatly folded clothes were waiting for me, courtesy of someone far more meticulous than I was. I dressed quickly, buttoning the shirt with tired fingers.

Halfway to the door, I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

I stopped.

Leaning closer, I stared at the reflection staring back. My face was hollowed, my skin pale beneath the shadows of exhaustion. There was something haggard, something sharp in my eyes—like a man teetering on the edge of violence.

"Is this what a year in Sancta Vedelia does to you?" I muttered under my breath.

I looked away quickly, unwilling to dwell on it, and stepped out.

As I tied my hair back into place, my gaze landed on Viessa speaking with Cleara across the hall. The moment she noticed me, Viessa excused herself and walked over.

"How are you?" She asked.

"Fine." I didn't bother with more. "When are we leaving?"

Truth was, I didn't want to linger. I didn't want to leave Alicia alone this long. And there was Levina too now.

"We can leave now," she replied. "We were only waiting for you."

"Then let's go." I brushed past her, eager to move forward.

"Edward."

Her hand caught my arm.

I stopped, glancing back at her. "Hm?"

Her eyes searched mine, troubled. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." My answer was too quick, too blunt. "Do you know where the Prophetess is?"

A voice behind us answered before she could.

"Are you looking for me?"

I turned.

The Prophetess stood there.

"Let's talk," I said simply.

She nodded, and the two of us slipped into an empty guest room.

Cleara gave us a sharp gaze for some reason but I ignored it.

Amaya however trailed behind without invitation. I grimaced but said nothing. Not like it mattered.

Facing the Prophetess, I wasted no time. "What happened yesterday—was that supposed to happen?"

"I cannot tell you that."

"Then can you tell me at least one thing useful? Something before I leave," I asked.

Her white eyes shimmered faintly. "I can only tell you this: follow your own thoughts. Do not rely on my words."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Pretty useless, then."

I turned for the door. I wanted to be angry, to spit something sharper at her, but all I could feel was tired. Too tired to waste the energy.

***

The Prophetess remained still after Edward left, her gaze lingering on the empty doorway. She wished she could tell him more—everything, perhaps—but she could not. His path was bound, his trials necessary. If he did not stumble through them himself, the future she had seen would unravel.

He must leave the past alive. Only then could he face what was waiting for him.

Her glowing eyes raised again. "I wonder… will that truly be the end of your path?"

Her vision shimmered, white light flooding her sight.

She peered again into Edward's future.

Each time, she had seen the same outcome.

And yet…

Her brow furrowed.

"…Hm?"

This time, the vision was different.

The ground beneath her feet was blackened and brittle, cracking with every step. Smoke thickened the air, clawing at her throat, and the stench of burnt flesh made her stomach twist.

It looked similar to the Prophecy she had seen of Edward before but this one looked much more worse.

She pressed forward, her white robes brushing against ash, until her gaze fixed on a figure in the distance.

He was tall, his back to her. A dark waistcoat clung to his frame, his hands tucked into his pockets. Before him roared a pillar of fire, its color not red or orange, but deep and dark poisonous purple, clawing at the heavens.

Even from afar, the heat seared her skin. She raised her hand to shield her face, her breaths shallow, each inhale sharp against her lungs.

The figure did not move.

He only stared at the inferno wordlessly.

And then he turned his head, strands of his silver hair fluttering slightly.

She could not make out his features, but when he spoke, the sound crawled down her spine like ice.

A deep voice devoid of any warmth.

"You are looking too far."

-Crack!

"Prophetess."

The world shattered around her.

-BOOM!

The prophecy collapsed like glass breaking in her mind.

The Prophetess gasped, snapping back into her body, her eyes wide, her glow flickering.

For the first time, the future had not obeyed her sight.

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