"Anaxa! That’s so rude! Hurry up and apologize to this kind gentleman!"
Seeing this, Anaxa’s older sister imdiately stepped forward, her tone sowhat stern as she scolded her brother, her face filled with apology and embarrassnt.
Phainon pushed aside the absurd feeling in his heart, giving a slight shake of his head, his voice still steady and betraying no emotion. "It’s unnecessary."
His gaze swept over the crude firearm clenched in the youth’s hand, finally settling on little Anaxa’s face, flushed with tension and embarrassnt. He paused, then added,
"Your brother... is very concerned for you. This urgency is not a fault. And... that gun cannot harm ."
However, little Anaxa stubbornly shook his head. He set the simple firelock down completely, then bowed deeply towards Phainon. His voice still carried a slight tremble:
"I’m... I’m sorry, sir! I was too impulsive and misunderstood you! My deepest apologies!"
This insistent apology made Phainon pause slightly. He looked at the youth, who seed so embarrassed he wished he could vanish into the ground, yet still forced himself to uphold proper manners.
The corner of Phainon’s originally indifferent mouth lifted almost imperceptibly into a faint, yet genuine, curve.
*Professor Anaxa, so you had days like this too.*
He stopped dwelling on it and turned his attention back to the siblings, informing them of the next steps. "By the way, there is sothing you need to know. This city-state has been designated as a frontline fortress for the Okhema Alliance’s resistance against the Black Tide. Soon, this place will no longer be safe."
His words drained the color from the siblings’ faces, but Phainon’s next words brought them hope:
"Later, a certain soone... well, that person who just single-handedly pushed back the Black Tide at the gate and looks very much like . He will help you, along with other civilians who need evacuation, relocate to the heartland of Amphoreus."
His gaze was calm, yet carried a reassuring power. "If you have a specific city-state you wish to go to, for example..."
He glanced aningfully at Anaxa’s belongings, "...The Grove? Just tell him. He will fulfill your request."
"The Grove?!" Anaxa’s sister could hardly believe her ears. Overco with emotion, she hugged her still-dazed brother tightly, her voice choked with joy.
"Anaxa! Did you hear that? We can go to The Grove together! We’re safe, and we can go to the hall of wisdom you’ve always wanted to see!"
Held tightly by his sister, feeling her overwhelming joy at this unexpected fortune, all the previous fear, tension, and embarrassnt seed to wash away in that mont.
He looked up dazedly at the white-haired youth whose expression remained placid, a complex mix of gratitude and awe welling up in his heart.
Watching this scene, a long-absent flicker of amusent passed through Phainon’s eyes.
*This is just the beginning. In this cycle’s future, and in every cycle after, Phaethon and I will fulfill the wishes of every Golden Descendant, just like now.*
*We can definitely do it, right...?*
***
Phaethon reached out, offering the constantly flickering Corefla of Death, radiating an aura of profundity and finality, to Phainon.
The fla’s light illuminated Phainon’s unreadable face. Monts before, they had together witnessed Castorice of this cycle, that being who wielded the authority of death, ultimately embrace her destined fate and willingly entrust this Corefla containing the rule of death to them.
"Phainon, it’s ti." Phaethon’s voice was low, breaking the silence that had settled between them.
His gaze fell on his brother beside him—this Phainon had already successfully fused a full ten Coreflas.
Trendous power surged within his body, causing the air around him to warp slightly from the intense heat, emitting a scorching wave.
Nearly a thousand years had passed like flowing water, yet they had left few traces of ti on the brothers’ faces. Ti seed to have been especially lenient with them.
The only significant changes were the increasing depth in Phaethon’s eyes, and Phainon’s body, which had almost beco a walking furnace.
"This cycle... doesn’t need another Deliverer..." Phainon’s voice was slightly hoarse from the burning of the power within him. He seed to want to resist still, his brow heavy with unresolved burden and rejection.
He was unwilling to drag another version of "them" from another ti, another possibility, into this endless weight and struggle.
"I know!" Phaethon interrupted him, his tone urgent yet firm. "I know you don’t want to involve another ’us.’ But what was our original purpose for gaining power, for stepping onto this thorny, nearly eternal path?"
He took a step forward, ignoring the wave of heat, his gaze intense as he stared directly at Phainon. "Wasn’t it to protect everything we cherish, to protect the people we love? And now, Aedes Elysia—that land we once called ho—is being rcilessly devoured by the Black Tide! Do you want that other ’us’ to experience the pain of losing their loved ones all over again?"
Phaethon’s voice faltered, as if the next word weighed a thousand pounds and was difficult to utter. "Not to ntion... that most crucial component for achieving the ’Recurrences ’... 「Ti」..."
That na seed to carry a curse. rely ntioning it caused the surrounding air to grow still.
"..." The response was Phainon’s prolonged silence. The light around him flickered unsteadily, betraying the intense struggle within.
Phaethon waited no longer. He took a deep breath, as if steeling his resolve, and suddenly reached out, actively grasping Phainon’s hand, which was as searing hot as a branding iron!
The mont their skin made contact, an intense, burning pain shot through him.
But Phaethon clenched his jaw, not even furrowing his brow.
He just stubbornly tightened his grip on his brother’s hand, gazing into Phainon’s eyes, which glowed with a molten gold light from the burning Coreflas and were filled with complex emotions.
He no longer tried to persuade with words. Instead, he used action to show his resolve—no matter what lay ahead, they must face it together.
Phaethon pulled firmly, almost forcefully dragging Phainon step by step towards the quietly standing Infinity Gate.
Even as the excruciating pain of his flesh being seared ca from his palm, he did not loosen his grip in the slightest.
***
anwhile, at Aedes Elysia.
The once peaceful and idyllic pastoral land had now beco a hellscape of despair.
The pitch-black, writhing Black Tide had completely devoured the golden wheat fields. The foul tide had even surged into the clear lakes, turning the fish swimming within into bleached bones.
Amidst the chaotic crowd of fleeing people, a couple was shouting themselves hoarse.
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