The world was still half-asleep.

Soft strands of sunlight broke over the horizon, scattering gold across the endless sea of clouds. The Kunpeng glided through them like a celestial continent — massive wings slicing through the sky with a grace that defied its size.

Most of the elves slumbered where they lay, curled beneath stray feathers or leaning against traveling packs. Exhaustion hung like a blanket over the deck of feathers.

Luca wiped the lingering fatigue from his eyes and stretched, a quiet yawn escaping. The cool morning air brushed against his skin, sending a small shiver through his still-waking body.

As he started forward, a silhouette caught his gaze.

A lone figure stood on the Kunpeng's head — dark and elegant, framed by the rising sun. Silver hair whipped wildly in the wind while obsidian skin shimmered with the first light of dawn, creating a striking silhouette of contrasts.

Sylthara.

Her posture was straight, solemn — yet fragile in a way that suggested she feared blinking and losing this view forever.

Luca slowed as he approached. He didn't want to disturb the moment, but something in him didn't want her to stand there alone either.

"What are you thinking about so intently?" His voice was soft, carried gently by the wind.

Sylthara flinched, shoulders tightening before she turned slightly toward him. Her golden eyes were wide — like she'd been caught trespassing in a dream.

"For the first time…" she breathed, voice unsteady,

"…I am seeing the world outside of the Elven Forest."

A gust fluttered her long hair across her face — she didn't brush it back. Her gaze remained fixed on the horizon, as though the world would vanish if she dared to look away.

Luca felt a small ache in his heart.

Right…

Dark elves were confined for generations.

A life ruled by survival — isolation — fear.

Sylthara spoke again, quieter this time.

"What is this world like?"

Her fingers subconsciously curled around her own arm — a habit of someone bracing for disappointment.

Luca tilted his face upward, letting the sunlight wash over him. But his expression… shifted. The weight of reality pressed into his eyes.

What is this world like…?

A bitter laugh tried to escape his throat, but he held it back.

"This world…" His voice started calm, steady.

"…it's beautiful."

Sylthara looked up at him, hope flickering like a fragile flame.

Luca's lashes lowered, and his tone fell deeper.

"…And it's ugly."

Confusion creased her brows. "Ugly?"

He swallowed, fists tightening slightly at his sides as images clawed back into his mind.

This world tears people apart. Drives them to madness. To villainy.

"There are places where justice never arrives," Luca said, his jaw tightening. "Where people who try to save others… end up the ones needing saving."

His breath trembled — just a little.

"And I… saw a man who lost his reason to believe. But even when he burned with hatred… his heart still wished things were different."

As he remembered…

Emeron — broken faith

A starving girl — punished for asking for food

Blood spilled because someone chose cruelty

Sorrow that never received an apology

He shut his eyes, head bowing briefly.

Professor Emeron… I hope you found peace in the end.

Sylthara watched him — the rise and fall of his chest, the shadow that crossed his expression, the flicker of grief he tried to hide.

Her hand hovered — almost touching his arm — then pulled back, unsure.

Luca slowly inhaled, lifting his face again.

His gaze softened — gentler, warmer.

He shut his eyes briefly, feeling the sting of those last memories — Emeron's faint smile as he died free.

Then another life surfaced — his own first life.

A small room.

Lonely meals.

Days blending into each other.

No one waiting for him.

Back then… I had nothing. No purpose. No warmth. Nothing to live for.

He exhaled — slow, shaky, real.

"But there is beauty too," he whispered.

He placed a hand over his chest — right where his heartbeat thudded firm and alive.

"This world gave me people who stood by me when I had nothing. Friends who argue with me, laugh with me, worry for me."

His lips curled into a small, truthful smile.

"Someone who refuses to let go of my hand."

Aurelia's determined eyes flashed in his memory — her warmth a steady flame in the cold.

"And a family who believes I will become someone worth remembering."

They made this world worth fighting for.

Worth suffering for.

Worth saving.

Luca exhaled — this one lighter, freer — and looked directly into Sylthara's eyes.

"So yes," he said, the wind catching his hair as sunlight drew a golden ring around his silhouette.

"This world can be cruel… but it also gives us love, hope, and reasons to keep walking."

He turned to the horizon again — the sun rising symbolic and bright.

"That's why it's worth saving."

Silence.

But not the empty kind — the kind where emotions settle and meaning roots deeply.

Sylthara's lips parted slightly. Her eyes widened — not in fear or confusion anymore — but in understanding. In admiration.

Her posture eased. Shoulders dropping. A breath she didn't realize she'd held finally released.

She looked ahead again — and a small, delicate smile bloomed across her lips.

The Kunpeng soared onward, carrying them into a day that promised new trials — and new reasons to endure them.

Side by side, against the wind and sky,

Luca and Sylthara stood —

no longer alone in their view of the world.

Another day slipped by atop the endless sky.

The elves spent their hours quietly — some whispering hopeful plans for their new lives, others simply staring at the horizon, afraid the dream would fade if they looked away. Hope and anxiety wove together in every breath they took.

Aurelia, Kyle, Lilliane, and Selena split their time between helping the weary refugees and honing themselves. Sometimes they practiced in silence, mana swirling faintly around them. Other times, they sat still — reflecting on how much their paths had already changed.

Vincent remained by Elowen's side throughout the journey — vigilant, protective. He was there whenever her steps faltered, whenever her expression dimmed under the weight of leadership and sorrow. He spoke little, but every gesture said he would not let her carry this burden alone.

And Luca…

He barely moved.

A single ancient scroll lay open in his hands — and he stared at it for hours as if bound in an unbreakable trance. The world around him blurred, distant and unimportant. Aira's feathers ruffled with the wind, conversations rose and fell — but he didn't blink.

I have to master this… no matter what. After seeing what the Fourth Demon General was like,...I need to learn the next phase of Moonslayer.

His fingers tightened on the parchment.

A shadow cast over him.

"You seem quite troubled by a technique," Vincent remarked, silver eyes narrowing with cold clarity.

Luca flinched — actually flinched — shaken from the depths of his concentration. When he looked up and saw Vincent, he let out a long, tired breath.

"…Yeah." His shoulders slumped. "Something like that."

He rubbed his temples before asking wearily,

"What are you doing here?"

Vincent tilted his chin toward the horizon. His voice remained calm, clipped, almost as if stating weather conditions.

"Look around you. We've nearly reached Valentine territory."

"Huh?" Luca jerked his head up.

Mountains he recognized. The glittering rivers tracing the land like silver veins. A familiar stretch of forest spreading like a welcoming shadow.

Home.

Luca blinked rapidly, jaw dropping slightly.

"I was… that absorbed, huh?"

Vincent didn't answer, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was answer enough.

"We'll land outside the main region," he continued. "I already informed Father. He'll meet us directly at the settlement site. Everything is prepared."

Luca nodded quickly. His heartbeat quickened — excitement, anxiety, something else he couldn't name.

"Right. Then… let's head down."

Kunpeng let out a commanding cry as Luca gave the signal. Winds spiraled as the colossal beast descended, casting a massive shadow over the earth below. Leaves rustled violently, and dirt swirled in spirals as Aira landed with controlled majesty.

One by one, elves and friends disembarked — their steps shaky but hopeful as they touched solid ground for the first time in days.

Luca was the last to step off.

He placed his hand gently on the Kunpeng's feathers, gratitude warm in his chest.

"Thank you, Aira," he whispered.

Aira's mind-voice rumbled smugly.

"Of course. I am greatness."

Luca chuckled softly before summoning the mythical beast back to the Beast Space in a cascade of shimmering light.

He exhaled deeply and stepped to the front — where his friends had already fallen into formation around him. Together, they walked toward the designated clearing.

Toward the man awaiting their arrival, as he stood by his entourage of soldiers, and…

Step by step, Luca's excitement swelled…

Until he saw who was standing beside the Father of Valentine Territory.

His foot froze mid-step.

His pupils trembled.

His heartbeat lurched.

"What—" he choked, disbelief flooding his tone.

Then his voice burst out louder, echoing across the clearing—

"What are YOU doing here?!"

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