When my eyelids opened again, the first thing I saw was her.

Elyra.

Her naked body, still warm from the night, was curled across the sheets, her silver hair scattered like a rumpled cascade on the pillow. Her heavy chest rose in a peaceful rhythm, her nipples erect despite the muggy heat of the tent. Her flat belly moved slowly with each breath. Her face was calm, almost fragile — nothing like the fierce fighter who drove her spear into demons' throats.

I stayed still. My cock, still swollen from the memory of the night before, was not what I was looking at. It was her expression. She was smiling slightly in her sleep. And damn, that smile was enough to make me feel less dirty, less crushed by everything waiting for us outside.

I breathed out, a whisper that was only for me:

— "Thanks…"

Thanks for being here. Thanks for letting me sleep without nightmares for once.

I gently freed myself from her warm thighs, picked up my rumpled kimono, and sat a little farther away. Aurelia tucked away in the demon kimono inventory, I closed my eyes. Inside, there was only the breath of mana. Invisible filaments that slipped into my skin, the slow warmth rolling through my veins.

I breathed. I inhaled deeper, my stomach twisted, my head lightened. Every second reminded me I was alive. Alive, but not eternal.

When I opened my eyes…

She was squatting in front of me. Still naked. Her hair messy, her heavy breasts barely held by a blanket she hadn't bothered to wrap around herself. Her crooked smile hummed with a quiet mischief.

— "You're cute when you meditate."

I laughed, dry, without thinking:

— "You're just as cute when you sleep."

She raised an eyebrow, looking amused.

— "Not when I'm awake?"

— "No. Then you tilt straight toward annoying."

She widened her eyes, mock-hurt. Then her smile widened, predatory.

— "Your words of love first thing in the morning… exactly what I always wanted."

I lifted my hands, theatrical.

— "But please, my love."

I didn't think that would touch her. But her cheeks took on a pinkish shade, and her gaze drifted away for a second. Damn. Even she could blush.

She rose with a supple motion, her firm ass swinging just at the level of my eyes, and went rummaging through a wooden chest in the corner of the tent. Her bare back, covered with fine scars, gleamed in the pale morning light.

She came back with a worn book, scarlet binding, edges eaten by years. She handed it to me.

— "Here."

I blinked.

— "What is—"

— "The Book of the Ten Movements of the Crimson Spear."

My fingers trembled as I took the object.

— "Ten? But you've only ever executed nine…"

Her smile dimmed a little.

— "Exactly. I never managed the tenth." She looked me straight in the eyes. "Make sure you achieve it before I do."

A nervous laugh escaped me.

— "Given how long it took me just to master the first movement, I hope it's not exponential…"

— "Unfortunately it is." Her smile returned, softer. She leaned over, planted a quick kiss on my cheek. Her lips were warm, still salty with sweat. "Come on, go. We have to prepare for the ceremony."

I got up, tucking the book into the kimono's storage space. Stepping out of her tent, the cool morning air hit me in the face. My head had calmed… but my heart had grown heavy. Because I knew what awaited us out there was no spear exercise.

The hour came, we were all gathered.

Bodies were stacked in the middle of the courtyard. Hastily draped, some already stiff, others still warm, all carrying the faint smell of dried blood. Around them, the survivors formed a circle, silent, frozen like statues of flesh.

When the fire started, it was first a discreet crackle. Then the flames flared at once, orange and voracious, devouring the sheets, the faces, the hands still clenched in the shape of prayers. A black smoke rose, thick, choking, carrying a sickening stench of roasting flesh.

I bit the inside of my cheeks. My guts heaved. Not because of the smoke, not only. But because I recognized some of those faces. I had drunk with them. I had shared meals, glances. And now… they were nothing but ashes.

Albrecht stepped forward. His dark silhouette stood out against the flames, his battered armor reflecting the light like a broken mirror. His voice roared, deep, relentless:

— "Remember."

He let the word sink into our bellies like a blade.

— "Remember that each of these bodies chose to stand, until their last breath. They did not fall for glory. Not for pride. But so that you, here, could breathe once more."

His words rang with the crackle of the flames. Sobs rose around me, muffled, broken.

Albrecht continued, heavier, slower:

— "We do not weep for soldiers. We weep for brothers, sisters, children, parents. Lives torn away, but who, in their fall, granted us one more night."

I bowed my head. My throat burned as much as my eyes.

Then Reinardht stepped forward in turn. Red cape snapping in the heat, he stopped just before the pyre. His black eyes fixed on us, like nails driven into our flesh.

— "I have seen thousands of men die. But I have never seen a handful hold on like you did." His voice rolled like a war drum. "You have proven that humanity still deserves to fight."

He opened a leather box. Inside, medals struck in gold and runes. Their sheen looked obscene against the flames devouring our dead.

— "In the name of the king," Reinardht declared, "you are decorated. Survivors of Duskfall, you are the bulwarks of humanity."

A soldier burst into tears as he received the metal, his hands shaking so hard he almost dropped it. Others clenched their teeth, frozen, unable to lift their eyes.

Reina received hers, face cold, but I saw a solitary tear roll despite her.

Hikari broke immediately. Her frail shoulders rocked with sobs, her fingers clutching the medal as if it were a relic of her own dead.

And Miyu… Miyu tried to smile. But her mouth twisted, and when Reinardht fastened the medal to her blood-stained kimono, she broke. She threw herself at me, crying hot tears, her chest shaking with spasms.

I held her. Hard. My fingers dug into her back, and my heart screamed.

Fuck. Her usual insolence, her provocative laugh, that was what kept us going. And now, everything drowned in her tears.

I raised my eyes. The flames rose still, spewing ashes into the sky. And I felt that bit of metal, pinned to my chest, weigh heavier than any armor.

They called us heroes. But if that's what being a hero is…

Then it's just surviving long enough to wear the medals of the dead.

The ceremony was not yet over when Reinardht raised his voice again. Not a second's respite, not even to dress our wounds.

— "We have no more time."

He didn't shout. He stated. His voice carried like a law. And we, broken or not, had to follow.

We marched behind him. His boots clicked on the stone of Duskfall still cracked by war, and each of his steps sounded like a mute order. I felt like I was moving through a heavy dream, the pyre of the dead still burning behind me.

A flying ship waited for us, dark silhouette, sails already filled, ready to cut the horizon. Soldiers formed a hedge on either side, dented armor, exhausted faces, but all still standing.

And suddenly… a cry.

— "COURAGE, HEROES!"

Another followed. Then another. Until the whole fortress screamed in a single voice:

— "YOU ARE THE FUTURE OF THIS WORLD!!!"

The ground almost vibrated under their shouts. Torches trembled, the sea reared. And I… I stood frozen.

Because in the middle of them, I saw her. Élene. The little one. Her fragile silhouette drowned in an oversized kimono. Her fists clenched, her eyes shining with tears, but her chin lifted like that of a soldier. She fixed me, not the others. And her cry pierced the tumult:

— "Thank you, Hero!!!"

Fuck. My heart exploded.

I also saw Elyra, upright, features drawn but her gray eyes fixed on me as if to anchor me in this reality. Albrecht, the rock, hand on the pommel of his sword, face closed but his eyes wet. Unknown soldiers, survivors, the wounded, kids. All of them. All who shouted, not to flatter us, but to push us to hold on a little further.

And then, as one body, they bowed. Hundreds of men and women, bending from the chest, offering a gesture I had never seen in this world. Not a military salute. Not a religious prostration. No. A raw, collective thank you that pierced me like a blade.

My legs gave way. My teeth clenched. And the tears burst out, burning, uncontrollable.

I had held them back until now, in front of the bodies, in front of the flames. But there… there I cracked. Not because I was weak. Because I was alive. Because they were still there to shout our names.

I sobbed silently, my hand clenched on Aurelia.

Fuck. Hero? Me? No. Just a kid they'd decided to believe in.

But I would become one for them, for myself.

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