"You were the ones who, when comrades fell, stepped forward with reddened eyes to take their place!"
"You were the ones who, in the endless darkness, even while trembling with fear, never truly dropped your weapons!"
"Every single one of you, with your two and a half hours of holding firm, with every drop of blood shed, every battle cry roared, bought me this 'belated' moment!"
"Your strength forged the cornerstone of victory for Amphoreus!"
"So—lift your heads! Every single person standing here, every single one who held on until now—you—"
"You are this world's true, deserving Deliverer!"
"And I," Phaethon's voice softened, filled with unwavering sincerity and resolve,
"I am honored... to be one among you, to fight alongside you. I will stand with you, fighting to the very end!"
A dead silence fell.
There was no expected cheering, no ecstatic joy of survival.
Only the absolute stillness that follows extreme power, and countless pairs of eyes staring at the cleared battlefield ahead.
The soldiers did not immediately erupt because of Phaethon's declaration.
They only subconsciously tightened their grips on their broken weapons.
They only straightened their weary, slightly hunched bodies a little more.
They only looked toward the temporarily empty front line, their gazes becoming unprecedentedly firm.
Silence, at times, holds more power than any shout.
...
Once the defense lines were quickly reorganized, the fallen were retrieved, the wounded helped away, and new, hasty fortifications were built upon the scorched earth, the front settling into a tense yet stable state once more—
Mydei strode purposefully to where Phaethon stood quietly. He lifted a fist that could shatter stone and punched Phaethon's shoulder heavily with a solid *thump*.
He let out a hoarse, booming laugh, filled with cathartic satisfaction and undisguised admiration:
"Good lad! Damn fine work! That last thing you said! Hits harder than all that world-shattering power you just showed! Made my blood boil!"
Next, Phainon walked over. His silver armor was stained with the Black Tide's viscous filth. The greatsword "Dawnmaker" was planted tip-down beside him, its blade still humming faintly.
He looked utterly exhausted, but the eyes he turned toward Phaethon shone startlingly bright, like two tempered stars of cold light.
Phainon gave Phaethon a firm nod before speaking. His voice was low from exhaustion, yet each word was clear, brimming with strength and recognition:
"Phaethon."
"What you said before was right. Reality truly isn't like a story."
"The world needing protection is too vast, the calamities needing severing too numerous... the heroes of the tale should never be just one."
"Welcome back... I'm glad. The flame named 「Deliverance」 has finally... truly ignited in your eyes."
A silent conviction, almost tangible, spread across the shattered front lines of Castrum Kremnos. The heroes were not singular; hope, too, should not rest on a single strand.
...
Several days later, Okhema.
Sunlight filtered through interlacing structures and clouds, dappling the ground. The air was suffused with a refreshing floral scent and the city's unique, crisp atmosphere.
Compared to the Nether Realm's eternal silence and Castrum Kremnos' bloody battlefield, this place was like a meticulously tended dream.
"It's truly unbelievable," Cyrene walked lightly ahead, unable to resist glancing back at Castorice beside her, her tone full of awe,
"Castorice, I never thought Phaethon's method would actually work... You really returned safely to the world of the living directly from the Nether Realm through the Infinity Gate."
Over the past few days, the Black Tide seemed to realize that attacking while Phaethon was present was futile; the assault intensity had gradually diminished.
Then, Phaethon had immediately opened a passageway to send Cyrene and Castorice back to Okhema.
Now, they were preparing to find Aglaea to complete the final ritual of returning the Coreflame of「Death」together.
"I didn't expect it either," Castorice replied softly, her violet eyes taking in the surroundings.
Okhema's interior remained bustling and lively. In the distance came the gentle chanting of priests and the rhythmic clanging of craftsmen. These scenes brimming with vitality felt both familiar and strange to her.
An extremely faint, yet genuine, smile touched her pale lips. "Lord Phaethon... truly is someone who excels at turning the impossible into miracles."
"It's just a shame about Polyxia," Cyrene's tone dipped slightly as she kicked a smooth pebble on the roadside,
"As one who has already passed, her nature is deeply bound to the Nether Realm. She cannot truly leave like you... destined to remain forever in that see of flower." She felt a touch of regret for the sisters.
"It's alright," Castorice shook her head, her expression remarkably serene. "Lord Phaethon has already stabilized a unique Infinity Gate specifically for her. Though it cannot allow her to set foot on Okhema's soil, that gate clearly presents the view of Dawncloud before her."
Her gaze drifted into the distance, as if it could pierce through space, picturing her sister sitting in a wheelchair at the edge of the Nether Realm, looking out at Okhema's light with delight and contentment,
"Letting Polyxia see Okhema's dawn with her own eyes, feel the sunlight and vitality here... this is already the greatest gift. She is content."
As they conversed, they passed the steamy Hero's Baths and strolled through the flower-filled Gardens of Life, yet they consistently failed to spot Aglaea's cool, elegant figure.
"Strange..." Castorice slightly furrowed her brow. "We can't find Lady Aglaea at either the Hero's Baths or the Gardens of Life. By convention, she should be meditating or handling affairs at one of these places at this time. Where could she have gone?"
"Hmm..." Cyrene tilted her head in thought, then made a "leave it to me" expression, deftly pulling out her message slate. "I'll just ask Hyacine directly! She'll definitely know where Aglaea is!"
Her slender fingers danced quickly across the slate's surface, sending a brief message.
However, almost the instant the message was sent, the slate glowed softly with a reply.
Cyrene looked down and couldn't help but let out a soft sound of surprise. "Huh?"
"Lady Cyrene, what did Lady Hyacine say?" Castorice's curiosity was piqued by her reaction and leaned in closer.
Cyrene looked up, her face a picture of big question marks and bewilderment. She read the reply aloud in a tone of utter uncertainty:
"Hyacine says... 'She don't know where Aglaea is? Why ask me about that? Go ask Phaethon! Hasn't she been with Phaethon lately?'"