After Junyu's speech, the Devil Horns went their separate ways to become stronger.
Katsa walked alone.
The road ahead was silent, but her mind was not.
Every step she took brought back the screams of Verdant Path.
Burning houses.
Falling bodies.
Children crying.
She pressed her hands against her ears, but the voices would not disappear.
For three days she wandered without knowing where she was going.
At sunset on the fourth day, she reached a rehabilitation camp built beside a quiet river. Wounded soldiers, widows, and orphaned children lived there in small wooden shelters.
A woman at the entrance looked at Katsa's exhausted face and said softly,
"You can stay here tonight."
Katsa nodded without speaking.
She sat alone near a dying fire, staring at the flames.
A young boy carrying a bowl of soup approached her.
"You should eat," he said.
Katsa did not look at him.
"I'm not hungry."
The boy sat beside her anyway.
"That's what everyone says when they're sad."
Katsa frowned.
"Why are you talking to me?"
"Because you look lonelier than everyone else here."
He offered her the bowl again.
After a long silence, she accepted it.
The soup was warm.
For the first time in weeks, something inside her stopped shaking.
The boy smiled.
"See? The world isn't completely terrible."
Katsa almost laughed.
The next morning she helped carry water for the camp. She avoided everyone's eyes, but the boy continued to follow her.
He talked endlessly.
About the river.
About the birds.
About the flowers growing behind the clinic.
Katsa rarely answered, yet she found herself listening.
That night they sat beneath the stars.
The boy looked at her and asked,
"What are you running from?"
Katsa's hands tightened.
"Myself."
"Did you hurt someone?"
She closed her eyes.
"I hurt many people."
The wind grew cold.
"I destroyed a town."
The boy remained silent.
Katsa waited for disgust, fear, or hatred.
Instead, he asked quietly,
"Do you regret it?"
Her voice trembled.
"Every second."
The boy stared at the river.
"Then you're already different from the person who did it."
Katsa shook her head violently.
"No. People died because of me."
The boy finally turned toward her.
Moonlight revealed tears in his eyes.
"My mother died in Verdant Path."
Katsa froze.
"My little sister too."
The bowl slipped from her hands and shattered on the ground.
Her body began to tremble.
"What…?"
The boy nodded.
"I recognized you the moment you arrived."
Katsa stumbled backward.
"Then why are you helping me?"
His voice cracked.
"Because hating you every day was destroying me too."
Tears streamed down Katsa's face.
She fell to her knees.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
The words came out broken and useless.
The boy knelt beside her.
"I can't bring them back."
Katsa lowered her head to the dirt.
"You should hate me."
He looked toward the dark sky.
"I did."
A long silence passed.
Then he spoke again.
"But if you spend your whole life calling yourself evil, you'll never become good."
Katsa sobbed openly.
For the first time since Verdant Path, she did not hide her tears.
After a while she whispered,
"I did do something wrong. I just don't want that to be the end of me."
The boy smiled sadly.
"Then don't let it be."
The next morning he led her to a small garden behind the camp. Among the ashes, a single white flower had bloomed.
He plucked it carefully and placed it in her hand.
"Live long enough to save more people than you destroyed."
Katsa stared at the flower.
It was light, yet it felt heavier than any weapon she had ever carried.
At dawn she left the camp.
The boy stood by the gate and waved goodbye.
Katsa looked back once.
"Thank you."
Then she turned toward the rising sun.
The flower rested against her chest.
For the first time since Verdant Path, Katsa walked forward without looking back at the flames.