Warm light pooled across the ceiling like morning spilled too early. Rion blinked, vision blurred at first, then painfully sharpening. A crisp smell of herbs lingered in the air, mixed with the faint metallic scent of medicine.
A hospital.
He pushed himself up just a little—and regretted it instantly. Pain throbbed down his ribs like a distant drum.
Before he could steady his breath—
Knock.
Reflex struck faster than thought. Rion's hand shot under the blanket, grabbed the mask on the bedside table, and snapped it onto his face just as the door creaked open.
A head peeked in.
Blonde hair.
Grey eyes.
A pair of lips trying too hard not to show relief.
Sarah stepped inside, arms full with a basket of wildflowers.
"Oh?" she said, eyes narrowing playfully. "You actually wear that mask even when waking up? I'm impressed."
Rion let out a slow, defeated exhale. "Habit."
She placed the flowers beside his bed and sat down quietly, fingers brushing over the wooden chair as if grounding herself.
"You're alive," she said finally.
"I only fainted," Rion corrected. "Not… left the world."
Sarah's lips twitched into a laugh—but it broke halfway.
A silence settled between them, heavy like untouched snow.
Rion looked at her carefully, then spoke in a voice low and gentle:
"I'm sorry, Sarah."
Her brows knit. "Sorry? For what?"
"You're holding it in," he said. "You can cry."
She froze.
Her lips trembled—the kind of tremble a person fights long before tears ever fall. "Do… Do you think I'm a crybaby?"
Her voice cracked.
Then shattered.
"Yes… yes," she whispered, and suddenly her whole body shook. Tears came hard and fast, spilling like a dam breaking after years of holding.
"I already lost my parents… then my second big brother… and now him… R–Rylan…"
Her fingers curled tightly.
"What am I supposed to do now…?"
Rion listened. His chest tightened—not with pity, but recognition.
"I feel your pain," he said softly.
"No!" She shook her head fiercely. "No one can feel pain unless they've lived it."
Rion slowly removed a glove, revealing the faint scars on his fingers.
"I lost my parents too," he said. "All of them. I'm… the only one left."
Sarah's breath caught.
Rion continued, voice steadier than his heart felt:
"You had Rylan. Someone who stood with you in the worst moments. I had no one. So when he shouted… when he smiled… when he argued with you…"
He paused.
"He reminded me of my father."
Sarah's eyes widened—then slowly softened with realization.
She wiped her tears, ashamed. "I… I didn't know. I'm sorry."
"You don't owe me an apology," Rion murmured. "Just don't hide from what he left for you."
She nodded, breathing shakily.
Then, as if remembering something, she reached under the table and pulled out a small bag.
"Oh—before I forget. We collected all the treasure from the labyrinth. Everyone divided their share. There's still a lot left."
She drew in a slow breath.
"I decided… ten percent will rebuild the Golden Fang."
Her voice steadied.
"And ninety percent for the orphanage Rylan wanted to create. I know ten percent won't be enough—but don't lose hope. We'll enter another labyrinth and gather everything we need. With that, the problem should be resolved"
Rion nodded. "He'd be proud."
She smiled faintly and handed him the bag.
Inside: piles of gold coins. And a small green potion vial, swirling with faint light.
"It boosts Essence," she explained.
Rion stared at it. "With my Essence now… I can only cast four Spell Arts."
"That's already amazing—"
"It's not enough."
Sarah blinked. "What? Not enough for what—?"
Rion reached into a drawer and took out a small cloth-wrapped bundle.
"Give me the blood of the final boss."
"The… blood?" Her voice faltered. "Rion—you collected all of that?"
He didn't answer. Just unwrapped the vessels—each filled with dark, shimmering monster blood. Sarah handed him the last one.
He poured everything together, then mixed the green potion in. The liquid swirled violently, turning deep violet.
He divided it into two cups.
One he slid toward Sarah.
She stared. "M–me? Why?"
"Just take it."
She hesitated—but drank.
Warmth rushed through her veins. Not heat, but something closer to memory—like the feeling of hugging someone who had been gone for too long.
Images flickered across her mind:
Her mother's cooking.
Her father's quiet humming.
Her brothers running beside her in the field.
Her lips quivered as tears rolled silently.
Rion drank his share.
For him, the warmth was different—brighter.
He saw a moment buried deep in his soul:
A small child opening his eyes in a new world, resting against the soft, warm chest of a woman who called herself Mother.
A man in gentle clothes, eyes glowing with pride, whispering—
"My little boy."
Rion's eyes burned. Tears formed—but he lowered his head slightly so Sarah wouldn't see.
Sarah wiped her cheeks and breathed out. "I think… my Essence just skyrocketed. What about you?"
Rion raised his fingers slightly. "Not enough. This isn't nearly what I expected."
She stared at him. "Rion… why? You're already good with magic. And swordsmanship. Why torture yourself with both? Why do you always spend so much time in the library, trying to make the impossible possible? I don't get it."
Rion looked at his hands—the hands that trembled in the past, now steady.
"When I was younger," he said quietly, "I thought the world had only two paths: mage or knight. But I am neither. I train both because… I want to live. I want strength that can survive anything. Any situation."
"But your Essence—"
"I was born with almost nothing," he said. "A flicker. So I studied all the ways Essence can grow. This… is the only method that works for me."
Sarah folded her arms, leaning closer. "Then what's your goal? What are you trying to reach?"
Rion fell silent.
He looked out the window—at the distant sky, bright but unreachable.
"I don't know yet," he admitted. "It feels like… wandering in an eternal darkness so vast it swallows every thought before it forms, searching for a light I've never seen and cannot even imagine. A light without name, without shape, without proof. And yet, I keep moving—step after trembling step—guided only by a stubborn hope that refuses to die.
Sometimes the darkness whispers to me, telling me to stop, telling me that the light is nothing more than a fantasy born from desperation. Other times, it crushes me with a loneliness so cold it freezes the breath in my lungs.
But still… I search. Because even if I have never seen that light, even if I have no reason to believe it exists, my soul clings to the faint belief that something beyond this void is waiting. Something worth bleeding for. Something worth surviving for.
In the end, maybe that's what it truly means to live—
to walk through a darkness that wants you dead,
and chase a light that may never shine."
Sarah stared at him for a long moment—expression unreadable—then reached into her cloak.
She handed him a card.
A dark emblem. Silver letters.
"…What is this?"
"An admission letter," she said softly. "My brother wanted to give it to you. It's for the Academy."
Rion's hands trembled before he could stop them.
Sarah looked down. "He told me… you reminded him of our brother. The one we lost long ago."
Rion swallowed. "He told me that too… right before…"
His voice broke for the first time.
"But… I won't forget his kindness."
The room fell silent.
Two people who had lost everything sat together—carrying the last warmth someone else had left behind.
And in that quiet, something small but certain began to form:
A new beginning.