Lior walked toward the cottage, exhaustion still clinging to his body. He stopped in front of the window.
It reflected his murky image.
Not bad.
He'd grown taller, his body still slender but now lined with muscle from the torturous training regimen. His eyes, a sharper shade of gray, stared back with cold clarity. Dark brown hair—tangled and damp—draped a few inches past his shoulders. Though his face remained mostly the same, it had sharpened slightly, gaunt from the loss of body fat. His skin, as deathly pale as ever, gave him the appearance of a ghost.
He studied himself for a long moment.
Then, in a blink, the reflection changed.
Short, disheveled blond hair. Ocean-blue eyes glazed over in a daze. Plain white clothes instead of the rugged training garb.
Lior's hand rose and pressed gently against the glass, his expression darkening with sorrow.
He parted his lips to speak, but something shifted in the background. Someone was watching.
Turning, he spotted Fenric standing nearby.
"Hey, Lior," Fenric said sheepishly, realizing he'd been caught.
"Back already?" Lior's voice was subdued.
Fenric scratched the back of his head with a nervous grin. "Yeah. Sorry. I promise this was the last time I leave on my own."
Lior let out a slow sigh, shaking his head. "It's alright. Should be relatively safe now. Soldiers tend to avoid the outskirts of Virelith these days."
"The Ghost of Solmira, right?" Fenric said with a teasing tone.
Lior glanced at the Odachi resting in his hands. A faint smirk touched his lips.
"Yes. That's what they call me."
As he reached for the door, something tugged at him. He froze, then peered over his shoulder, eyes narrowing.
"Wait. How do you know about that name?"
Fenric's head dipped, silent.
Lior turned, stepping toward him slowly. "You couldn't have taken on soldiers and lived to tell the tale."
Still, Fenric said nothing.
"Why aren't you answering?" Lior pressed, his voice sharpening.
Fenric's shoulders trembled. Tears slipped down his cheeks, falling into the snow below.
"I'm sorry, Lior," he whispered.
Lior's eyes widened slightly. "Wha—"
The crunch of footsteps interrupted him. Multiple figures trudged up the slope, their silhouettes emerging through the snow-dusted trees.
Lior turned toward them—and froze.
Realization hit like a bolt of lightning.
Slowly, he looked back at Fenric, who couldn't meet his gaze.
"…You didn't."
Fenric remained silent. He didn't need to speak. The guilt in his eyes was answer enough.
Fuck...
Lior turned to face the approaching group. All wore dark blue cloaks, the symbol of Xiaran emblazoned across their shoulders.
His grip tightened on the Odachi.
Ten total. Eight Awakened. Two Kindled.
All mages...
Fighting mages was often more dangerous than facing enhanced warriors. Their ranged spells were a nightmare for a close-range fighter like Lior.
Should I run?
He glanced behind him.
Damn it. The cliffs are impossible to scale.
The man leading the group smirked.
"Thinking of running?" His mocking tone grated against Lior's nerves.
"That depends," Lior replied coolly. "What do you want?"
The man laughed. "What do you think? We're here for you."
Lior clicked his tongue. "I figured as much, monkey."
His voice lowered, eyes narrowing as he sized the man up. "What's your business with me, cretin?"
"Watch your mouth, kid," the man snarled. He swept his hand through the air. A sudden glow burst to life around his palm.
Then the atmosphere shifted.
Lior's instincts flared. He raised his arms just in time to guard against the invisible attack.
He didn't see it—he felt it. The air split with a piercing screech.
Then, pain.
He staggered back, blood pouring from deep gashes on both arms.
His eyes widened in alarm.
This is what it's like… to face a peak Kindled core mage.
And there were two of them.
It's hopeless.
So he charged.
Without hesitation, Lior dashed forward.
The man sighed, unimpressed. "Swordsmen. Always the same."
He waved his hand again. Another invisible slash hurtled toward Lior.
But Lior slipped to the side, dodging it by a hair's breadth.
The man's eyebrow twitched.
"Interesting. Try dodging this."
Slash after slash tore through the air. Vertical. Horizontal. Sweeping diagonals. Each one came faster than the last.
Lior moved with instinctual precision. A sidestep here. A duck. A roll. He leapt above one cut, the blade grazing the soles of his shoes.
Closer. Closer. Every movement brought him within striking distance.
The man panicked. He launched one final horizontal slash—aimed cleanly at Lior's neck.
Too high to jump.
So Lior dropped low, sliding beneath the spell on his knees. A few strands of hair severed in its wake.
Then he was up. Lunging forward. Odachi raised.
The blade whistled down—
But stopped inches from the mage's throat.
Lior dropped. His body hit the earth like a corpse.
Crushed beneath invisible weight.
A woman stepped forward, cloaked in deep indigo. One hand extended, a violet orb floating just above her palm.
What…?
"Are you alright, honey?" she asked.
"Thanks to you," the man replied, smiling at his wife. Then, glancing down at Lior: "You see, my wife controls gravity. Not much, but enough for a Dormant like you."
I'm fucked.
Lior writhed, but couldn't lift a single limb.
"Now," the man said, "Let's make sure you won't be walking again."
He placed his boot over Lior's ankle.
"Honey, can you increase the pressure?"
She hesitated briefly, eyes full of pity.
Then she raised her hand.
Crack.
The bone shattered. Agonizing pain shot through Lior's leg—but he couldn't scream.
The gravity spell kept his mouth shut.
Then the other foot.
Crack.
Only when the spell faded did he gasp for air, wheezing from pain.
The man turned to Fenric, beaming.
"I must thank you, Fenric. Couldn't have done it without you."
Lior's eyes snapped to the boy.
That little piece of shit…
Fenric stood there, guilt flooding his features. "I'm sorry, Lior," he muttered. "They said… they said they'd take me back home if I gave you up."
He choked on a sob. "I wanted to escape with you. But no matter how hard we tried, we couldn't form our cores."
He looked up, tears pouring. "After you lost your memories, you changed. Nightmares, bloodlust… you scared me."
Lior stared, not with rage, but sorrow. His eyes welled up. Jaw clenched.
"Fool… You don't even know what's coming."
Fenric blinked. "What do you mean?"
One of the Awakened snapped his fingers.
A spark ignited. Then more.
The flames danced around Fenric's body.
He lit up like a pyre.
Lior's heart dropped.
"No—!"
But he couldn't move. He could only watch as the fire consumed Fenric.
The boy screamed. Crawled. Reached out.
Lior clawed through the snow.
Dragged himself closer.
Almost...
Their fingers nearly touched—
Fenric died.
The fire snuffed out.
Only a charred husk remained.
Lior stared in disbelief. The stench of burned flesh hit him. He screamed.
"No!"
He pounded the ground.
Once. Twice. Again.
Until his hands bled.
"Fuck…" he sobbed, fists drenched in crimson.
The cloaked man knelt beside him, smiling.
"What's wrong?" he sneered. "You've burned so many alive. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy the show?"
Lior looked up, eyes blazing.
"You better kill me now. If you don't…"
"Oh? And what if I don't?" the man said, chuckling.
Lior's voice dropped to a whisper, laced with venom.
"You. Your wife. No—the entire continent of Xiaran…"
"I'll make them beg to have never been born."
Silence followed.
Then laughter. Cruel, mocking.
"Alright," the man said, wiping tears of amusement. "Then I'd better make sure you die. Slowly."
They bound Lior in chains and dragged him away.
---
He woke up sometime later, pain dull and ever-present.
"Good morning," the man said cheerfully. "Sleep well?"
Lior glared at him. "Fuck you."
The man laughed again.
"Time for the main event."
He gestured toward an open pit nearby. A yawning darkness waited below.
Two mages hoisted Lior up and carried him to the edge.
"Our pets haven't eaten in a while," the man said casually.
Lior's heart dropped.
"You bastard."
The man set Lior's Odachi beside the hole.
"I'll leave your sword here. As a grave marker."
Then they tossed him in.
The trapdoor slammed shut above him.
And the world turned black.