POV: Verdia Solarion
And here I was again, in yet another war.
It wasn't strange to , after all, I was born amid the most brutal war of the last ten thousand years.
For a long ti, during the Laplace War, I was called the "Warrior Angel."
Of course, that title was forgotten by many after I isolated myself for decades, but if you were to ntion that na to so historian, they could tell you about my deeds, my battles, my triumphs... and my mistakes.
That was a ti when I wielded sword, bow, and magic with a heart hardened by necessity.
Each strike of mine was precise, each spell devastating.
First, I fought fiercely against the human race, in a war that did not even belong to us elves, and after that, I joined the campaign against Laplace, betraying the Demon God.
And still, at the end of the war, glory did not remain in —only fatigue, pain, and the emptiness of a world that no longer seed worthy of redemption.
After the Laplace War, I earned other titles during my hundreds of years of life.
"Witch of Disaster," during the bloody conflicts in the Conflict Zone.
"Herald of Light," in a human kingdom I helped save from a monster invasion.
Titles ca and went, like the seasons, but there was no peace in my spirit.
I participated in many wars, but I never threw myself into them completely. I was always involved primarily because I was helping so close friend.
I helped, yes, but at a distance.
Shortly after the end of the Laplace War, sothing inside broke.
A hundred years of uninterrupted war had exhausted .
I developed a certain aversion to swordsmanship, archery, and even magic. These were arts aid at slaughter, instrunts of destruction, of loss.
Skills created to burn, cut, and pierce the bodies of enemies.
Tired and longing for the end of all this, I entrusted my artifacts to my best friend at the ti: Gretta, the Demon Queen.
She was powerful, feared, and respected, but above all, she understood .
I left with her my cloak, my bow, my sword, and my staff.
Four magical items of great power. Four of the reasons I had crossed that war as a legend. Four reasons why many people did not return ho.
I planned never to use them again.
Eventually, I found a new staff with my new group of adventurers. Sothing simpler, more modest, that accompanied on explorations, studies, and travels.
Magic, over the course of my wanderings, began to reveal itself in a new light—as a profound language that connects all things, a manifestation of the universe and its mysteries.
I realized at so point how much I had ignored its beauty. When you are surrounded by destruction, it's hard to see beyond the next spell.
But, with ti, I saw the wonders it could create. Conjure a fla to warm the lost on a freezing night, control the wind to propel a drifting boat, heal wounds, purify poisons... all of that was magic too.
The Demon God Laplace seed never to have understood that.
That green-haired demon saw magic only as a tool of annihilation.
And worst of all: he did it better than anyone. His spells were absolute, rciless. I never knew anyone who ca close to his magical feats.
Never—until a few years ago.
When I t my new disciple.
When did I start to grow weary of everything? Yes... I think it was at ise's death.
She was my best friend throughout my entire life. What was it that made her different? I wasn't sure. Actually, she was a bit quiet.
I t her when she was fourteen, and I was four hundred. That seems absurd, doesn't it?
But it's true. I watched her grow. I witnessed her changes.
I saw her go from a shy child to a young woman passionate about life, then to a brave and respected woman... and then I saw her die as a wise, playful old lady.
Look at that... it turns out I don't think I was truly born to be an elf.
Most elves lived a calm and peaceful life, mainly in the elven village. Even when they ventured out into the world, they weren't particularly "lively."
The short-lived races were truly impressive. Because of their attachnt to their brief ti in this world, they always lived with intensity.
They went out and made things happen. Smiled and cried, yelled and celebrated as if it were the last day... because it really could be.
I was like that too. A free spirit, joyful and unrestrained. Happy and radiant.
That was how I chose to live. But that brightness was gradually stained. By the cruelty of war. By the cruelty of life. And above all... by the cruelty of ti.
When I returned to the Great Forest, I just wanted to rest. Rest for a while. Assimilate everything that had happened. And then, who knows, travel again.
As if in agreent with my well-deserved rest, my frequent Visions of the future simply stopped. They vanished.
Probably because there really was no threat to my life in the Great Forest. It was as if fate said, "You are safe here. Rest."
It was on a relatively ordinary day. Hontar, a Doldia to whom I owed a small favor, asked to heal his son's arm.
The boy seed very strong for his age, and his bones had broken due to his lack of control. At first, I simply found him adorable. Truly cute.
Those golden eyes were rare. Although I had so suspicions about them, he quickly confird my hypothesis by sharing that he could see mana.
Moreover, as soon as he saw use magic, he beca wholeheartedly interested.
Let's see if you've followed so far: the boy was very cute, had great physical strength, innate demonic eyes, and on top of that, was extrely talented in magic.
Did I forget sothing? Oh, yes... He was also excessively intelligent and always had completely out-of-the-box ideas about everything.
Teaching Rygar was a refreshing experience. A breath of life in my monotonous existence.
I didn't realize it at the ti, but... he was the one who, slowly and surely, healed the deepest scars of my heart and soul.
A dedicated, caring, and brave boy. One who would surely beco a great man in the future.
It's a pity that, like , the boy was born in difficult tis.
At five years old, he was already defending his tribe in combat against slave traders. I didn't accompany him at that ti, but I heard many stories.
anwhile, I was fighting in the elven village. At one point, I fell into a trap. For a mont, I thought I was dead.
It had been decades since I had seen any Vision of my own death. Because of that, I truly didn't know how I might escape that ti.
If I had my mana intact, if I weren't so exhausted, I could have defeated that North Saint. It wouldn't have been the first or the second ti I had done so.
But I was spent.
And when death seed certain, my father's last words ca to mind: "I want you to live as long as I did, so that you understand that there are things in life more important than death."
I always understood that phrase, but it was in that mont that I felt it deeply.
It was the only ti in my entire life that I didn't know if I would live or die.
I had no Vision to prepare , there was no sign whatsoever.
But, in any case, it was my adorable disciple, at only six years old, who ended up saving . And together... together, we killed a North Saint.
It still feels sowhat unreal, even rembering it now.
In any case, the following years were turbulent. I an, I wasn't at war anymore or anything like that, but having Rygar around basically guaranteed that everything would turn into chaos.
Of course, I loved all that excitent. And more and more, my disciple surprised . At a certain point, I began to suspect that he might be so reincarnated demon.
But after observing him for a while, I dismissed that possibility.
He invented spells one after another, created an organization, and led it at only eight years old.
He had a clear vision of how to strengthen the Great Forest in the long run, and acted on that vision. He found other promising young people, trained them, taught them.
Everything happened so quickly that those around him could barely keep up.
At only eight years old, it beca clear to the entire Great Forest: Rygar Adoldia carried within him a fla.
A fla of change.
An unbridled and unstoppable fla. And wherever he went, everything was destined to change.
And ? I beca more and more attached to young Adoldia. A spirited, fierce, talented, and loving youth.
Perhaps it was because he pulled out of the pit I was in. Or perhaps he was just too charismatic for anyone not to like him.
Whatever the reason, I found myself longing for, imagining his future deeds. What heights would he reach? What would he accomplish with his peculiar vision of the world?
It was then that, on the day he left the Great Forest, I had a Vision, after many years.
And this ti, this Vision did not show my death.
This ti, my powers truly went beyond all limits.
For the second ti in my entire life, my powers saw the future of soone who was not .
And for the first ti in my entire life, they showed a future many years ahead.
I saw his death. I saw Rygar fall.
I didn't know exactly when it would happen, or where. But the on ca, clear as day, in the wake of a terrible war against Milis.
After the war, a city once pristine and white was now stained scarlet.
The ivory towers crumbled, and from their ashes, the Iron Legion rose.
It was then that I saw it—clearly, unmistakably.
After all the war. After the bloodshed, after the calm that followed.
Sothing far more terrifying erged.
Sothing that brought about Rygar's end.
----
Amid the infinite sea, the sun shone bright and constant.
There were no waves, nor wind. The ocean was serene, calm, like a living painting. But there was sothing strange in that scene.
In the midst of that vast blue nothingness, a small island stood out. An island that, surely, was not there before.
On that unlikely island, a gigantic red dragon at saddle rested under the sunlight, lying on a rocky elevation.
Its breathing was slow, deep, and tranquil. A being of such imposing presence, there, in complete peace. Nearby, three figures rested.
A beast-race woman, with silver hair and attentive eyes, was leaning against the body of a huge ebony wolf, which slept placidly.
Next to her, a red-haired human watched the sea with her arms crossed. The third figure was a little brown-haired girl roasting a massive fish over the fire.
"How does Rygar manage to stay underwater so long?" asked the redhead, Eris, her gaze fixed on the calm sea.
Aisha, still focused on taking the fish off the fire, answered naturally:
"It's because of a spell. A barrier mixed with wind magic. He has to renew the air inside the bubble from ti to ti, but it's not a big problem for the Master."
Ghislaine, the beast-woman, lifted her face to the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face as she stroked Skoll, the giant wolf.
"Traveling mounted on a dragon is truly out of the ordinary..." she comnted with a slight smile.
It had been only a few months since the group had left the Sword Sanctuary.
Since then, they had swiftly passed through the Asura Kingdom, crossed the chaotic Conflict Zone, and made a brief stop in the Sanakia Kingdom.
There, they t Fendrel and Erina, old friends of Rygar, as well as their son, Gyu.
Soon after, they continued their journey through the skies atop Ezkalor, the red dragon.
Upon passing through the Dragon King's Kingdom, they discovered that Ornthorn had already departed for Milis. Wasting no ti, they continued on.
Now, they were at so point between East Port and West Port, right in the middle of the ocean.
Eris approached the dragon eggs that lay near Ezkalor, her eyes shining with excitent.
"Rygar said they're almost hatching! I can't wait to have one!"
Ghislaine smiled, and Aisha replied:
"I'd like to have one too... but I think it'll be complicated to raise. Not everyone can beat a dragon until it obeys like the Master does."
Eris puffed out her chest confidently:
"I can!"
Ezkalor snorted indifferently, turning to the other side with disdain, uninterested in starting a conflict with the redhead.
Eris was about to continue speaking, but was interrupted by a subtle tremor.
The sea began to stir. Waves ford for the first ti that day, and whirlpools appeared at various points around the island.
The three won imdiately turned to the ocean, sensing the atmosphere change. Skoll growled softly, and Ezkalor lifted his head, alert.
Then, a beast-race man erged from the depths of the sea.
But he wasn't swimming. He was floating. Carried by the water itself as if it propelled him through the air.
His body was surrounded by a faint purple aura, and a serene smile adorned his face.
The waters roiled even more. Slowly, an imnse form rose from the seabed.
A colossal frozen shape was hoisted upward.
The carcass of a giant Kraken erged from the waters, suspended both by Rygar's control over the surrounding waters and by a gravity spell causing it to levitate slightly.
It was an awe-inspiring and imposing spectacle.
anwhile, stones floated and slowly shaped themselves, forming a gigantic ship made of light rock, crafted to accommodate the creature's body.
Gears appeared below, driven by magic, structured to maintain the balance of that colossal vessel.
In the air, Rygar smiled, triumphant:
"We've gained a new passenger!" he announced in a light, excited tone.
"Don't worry, Ezkalor, I'll help carry this one!"
The three won and the two beasts stood agape at the scene before them.
Rygar ignored their reactions as he gazed toward the horizon.
Now, Milis was right in front of him.
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