: Not even close… not a match at all…
: This is way too absurd. That black-robed swordsman…
: He practically forced everyone to their limits by himself.
: Is he from the Black Tide's side? Or some other faction?
: It feels like… this needs an Emanator to step in.
: I already thought Titan was strong enough, and Stelle could still wrestle with the opponent a bit, but in front of this guy, it was almost pure one-sided slaughter.
: He made it look far too easy. If the Titan hadn't succeeded with that sneak attack, I honestly feel like this guy wouldn't have lost even a shred of skin!
: Who in the world is this guy?!
: That last scene really tore my heart apart. Trianne is so cute, so small… I was really scared something would happen to her!
: Waaah… Trianne…
: She clearly looks like a child, yet she saved everyone at the very end. It hurts so much to see…
: This time opening the gate… it shouldn't have any aftereffects, right?
...
The comments went wild.
In the battle just now, Trianne's crucial last-second save, using the Century Gate, had left a deep impression.
Relying on nothing more than Trianne's expressions and voice, her image was already firmly engraved into the audience's minds.
Before this, Tribbie, Trianne, and Trinnon, the audience's understanding of and affection for these three girls was far below that of characters like Aglaea, who had shone brightly in the first episode.
But that moment just now completely overturned the audience's impression.
Many people had already, without even realizing it, fallen in love with this cute yet sharply contrasting character.
Some of them hadn't even noticed it happening yet.
On-screen, as the black-robed swordsman was teleported away, everyone finally managed to catch their breath.
"Lady Trianne." Castorice propped herself up and stood, looking at Trianne collapsed on the ground, instinctively running towards her.
But halfway there, she suddenly remembered that with her constitution, she couldn't touch the other person.
She could only stop awkwardly where she was.
At a moment like this, when Trianne was in danger, yet she couldn't even help her up, that feeling made Castorice lower her head unconsciously, pressing her lips together as her already pale face grew even paler.
"It's fine. I'll do it." Stelle put away her bat, her eyes filled with complicated emotions.
This was the first time she had ever been crushed so completely. Even though it felt awful, for Stelle, her companions were always the most important.
She stepped forward and gently lifted Trianne into her arms.
At the side, the dejected Castorice suddenly froze, her gaze locking onto something.
Back then, she had been sent flying in a sorry state, already prepared to roll a few times on the ground.
But Stelle had caught her. The situation had been urgent, and she hadn't had the presence of mind to realize what that meant.
Only now did Castorice come back to her senses.
Stelle… After she touched her, nothing happened!
It wasn't like before, when any life she touched would wither away in response.
In an instant, disbelief, doubt, joy, and an unfamiliar flutter rose together in Castorice's heart.
Her lips trembled as she wanted to ask something, but when she saw Stelle carrying Trianne toward the throne's direction, she closed her mouth again.
"At a time like this… that kind of thing isn't important…" Castorice made excuses in her heart for her hesitation just now.
Only she herself knew, she was afraid.
"I'm fine… But I'll probably need to rest for a while…" Cerces, who was possessing Anaxa, could barely keep her eyes open.
She gave Stelle a few brief instructions, then closed her eyes.
When they opened again, it was Anaxa that appeared.
He didn't waste words, nor did he exchange pleasantries. He had seen everything that had just happened through Cerces.
"We're leaving this place and heading to Okhema."
He shook his head, already laying out a detailed route in his mind.
"Teacher Anaxa." Castorice forcibly pulled her gaze away from Stelle and looked at Anaxa. "Are we just leaving like this? What about the others from the Grove of Epiphany?"
"There are no other survivors."
"Or rather… there were never any survivors to begin with."
Anaxa's eyes were cold as he stated the cruel truth without hesitation. "Those who could be sent away were sent away long ago. The ones who stayed behind, I am the last survivor. Of course, that's only if I still count as being alive."
Castorice fell silent… Stelle also fell silent…
They had arrived too late. There was nothing left to save.
Anaxa had no intention of comforting them.
The four of them walked left the Grove of Epiphany in silence.
...
: This has got to be the most tragic city-state so far…
: The ones who stayed behind were completely wiped out. Not a single living person left.
: The Black Tide, the black-robed swordsman… sigh. This must have hit everyone pretty hard.
: But what did Anaxa mean just now? What does 'if he counts as alive' even mean?
: His condition is clearly wrong. He tore his own soul apart.
: This is really hard to take…
: Even though no main characters died, this is probably the episode with the highest casualties since Honkai: Star Rail began…
: Sigh…
: Damn it, earlier I was saying it'd be fine as long as they didn't kill off characters, but if the plot keeps going like this, I don't think I can handle it.
: If the characters don't die, at least don't let so many others die…
...
The audience's mood was just as heavy.
At this point, aside from sighing, there was nothing they could do.
The journey back passed in silence.
On the return route, they didn't encounter any more danger.
When Okhema and the statue of Kephale came into view, everyone finally truly let out a breath they'd been holding.
Along the way, Trianne had already woken up, but her spirits were noticeably low.
Outside the city gates, a group of guards and healers had been waiting for some time.
Upon seeing Castorice and the others, they rushed over immediately, took Trianne from them, examined her condition while treating her, and escorted her back to the Marmoreal Palace.
"All this noise and commotion... Okhema hasn't changed a bit, has it?"
Anaxa crossed his arms, observing the scene before him with a scrutinizing gaze.
Hearing that tone, Castorice sighed.
"...Professor, let me be frank: The mission Lady Aglaea entrusted us is to search for survivors, uncover the truth about the disaster at the Grove, and... retrieve the Coreflame of Cerces."
Anaxa glanced at Castorice indifferently and replied calmly, "That does not surprise me. And now, I'm a survivor who witnessed the entirety of the disaster, as well as the defenseless bearer of a Coreflame."
At this point, his tone carried a hint of mockery as he said, "Are you going to bring me to Aglaea to fulfill your duty?"
The Anaxa the audience had seen before had only ever been portrayed from the sidelines.
Everyone had assumed he was no different from the other Chrysos Heirs.
But after hearing this exchange, they clearly sensed a sharp hostility and bitterness.
Anaxa seemed to harbor deep resentment toward Okhema, toward Aglaea, far from insignificant.
They had just survived a crisis, and now internal conflict was about to erupt?
The audience, whose nerves had only just relaxed, were instantly wound tight again.
They could no longer endure any more stimulation.
On screen, facing Anaxa's sharp words, Castorice spoke seriously, "That is indeed my duty, but I prefer not to present you to her as a captive or spoil of battle."
"Fine."
Anaxa snorted and said no more. His gaze cooled down. "There's no need to make your life difficult. I'm not against meeting that woman. But I have some things to take care of first."
As his words fell, Anaxa's expression softened considerably.
In a low voice, he said, "The families of some of my fellow Grove scholars live in the holy city. Before we meet Aglaea... I want to visit them."
Hearing this, both Castorice and Stelle tensed up, their expressions turning uneasy.
There was no Tribbie and the others at the Grove of Epiphany, so information traveled far too slowly.
Anaxa said nothing more, ignoring them as he walked toward the city.
In the end, Stelle and Castorice still followed behind him.
They went with Anaxa to inquire and search, and before long, they found the families of the scholars who had been resettled within the city.
In a corner of the marketplace.
A busy woman sat on a stool, gently stroking a book in her hands, her expression tender, as if lost in memories.
"Hello."
Anaxa stepped forward.
The woman looked up and examined him. Though Anaxa was well-known in the Grove of Epiphany, she did not recognize him.
"Hello... and you are...?" she asked in confusion.
"If I'm not mistaken, you are Callinicus' wife, right?"
Anaxa's voice was gentle, no longer carrying the sharp edge it had when speaking of Okhema and Aglaea.
"Yes." The woman suddenly realized something. Her eyes lit up as she stared at Anaxa, smiling warmly. "Oh, are you a messenger? No wonder I haven't heard any news for so long. There's been a change in personnel, hasn't there?"
Without a word, Stelle and Castorice could see the urgency and anticipation she was trying to hide.
"Ma'am, Callinicus passed away a few days ago defending the Grove against the black tide." Anaxa went straight to the point, without hesitation.
The woman's gentle smile slowly stiffened. The light in her eyes froze, then dimmed.
She became like a statue, standing rigid in place.
Her face turned deathly pale as she lowered her head, subconsciously straightening her clothes. Her mouth opened several times, but she did not know what to say.
"..."
After a few breaths, she finally gathered the courage to raise her head. Forcing a smile, she asked, "So... did he manage to defend the Grove?"
"Huh?" Castorice, whose heart was already close to breaking, did not expect this.
After hearing such devastating news, the woman's first reaction was this.
Anaxa's expression did not change. His tone was firm. "Yes. He managed to protect Cerces' Coreflame at the cost of his life."
Hearing this, the woman let out a breath and collapsed weakly onto the reclining chair.
Yet for some unknown reason, she braced herself on the armrest, unwilling to lose control, and said in a trembling voice, "I see. I'll select some of his possessions and pick a nice resting place for him."
Castorice could not bear it and spoke up, "...Please let us know if you need any help, ma'am."
The woman shook her head.
"I come from Kremnos. Death... and sacrifice... are things I have learned to face with composure."
Castorice could tell she was forcing herself to hold on.
Just as Castorice was about to continue comforting her, Stelle stopped her.
Stelle shook her head, signaling Castorice not to say any more.
Then, the three of them silently withdrew.
Just as they turned the street corner, suppressed sobbing came from behind them.
"Kalinnikos… you were clearly just a scholar, why, why…"
"Hahaha, no, I was once a warrior... and I'll find my way back to the battlefield."
"With the coming coronation of the new king of Kremnos, I'll take up my lance against the creatures of the black tide and seek vengeance for you."
Those words gradually became indistinct, yet the grief and hatred were clearly conveyed to the three.
Stelle and Castorice felt even heavier in their hearts. Far heavier than they had at the Grove of Epiphany.
The audience, too, was overwhelmed with suppression. But this was only the beginning…
After that, because there were too many people who needed to be informed, Anaxa had no choice but to write some names and situations down on paper, having Castorice and Stelle help deliver the news.
Among them, there was an elderly man waiting for his two daughters to return. He had already prepared a beautiful house in Okhema and gifts for his daughters.
Yet he did not know that after they were evacuated, his two daughters had already died in the Black Tide.
When Castorice and Stelle stood before the old man, facing the hopeful light in his eyes, that feeling was no easier than facing the black-robed swordsman.
Castorice's voice trembled; she gathered her courage several times, yet could not speak the truth.
In the end, Castorice still told him the truth.
And, as a Chrysos Heirs who failed to protect ordinary people, she apologized to him.
However, the elderly man trembled as he spoke to them, "...Don't put it that way. Even if my Artakama wasn't one of the Chrysos Heirs mentioned in the prophecy, she was still a heroine, wasn't she?"
Was he comforting Castorice, or comforting himself, or comforting his two deceased daughters? No one knew.
As always, only after the two left did they hear the old man's heart-wrenching sobs.
These delicate stories, the different cries and reactions left the audience in deep sorrow.
They never expected to be stabbed in the heart at a time like this.
There wasn't even a need for buildup. Because these were stories of ordinary people.
And the audience were ordinary people as well. Mother, father, child, these roles are ones everyone is born with.
And so, when these painful, heavy stories were laid before them, the comments were filled with nothing but sighs and quiet lamentations.