Chapter 69: Welt: I Really Should Give You Some 'Education of Love' With My Cane
"Maybe playing a song would be appropriate right about now? After all, music can really stir the emotions!" March 7th chirped, her breath puffing into a little white cloud in the freezing air.
Delta's mouth twitched violently. Her tail flicked in sheer disbelief. 'What kind of brain-dead suggestion is this?'
"Playing a song? Are you serious right now?" the pink-haired horned girl demanded, staring at the archer as if she had grown a second head.
"It's called setting the mood! Look at how much pressure she's under right now. If we play something inspiring, maybe it will awaken her will."
A melodious tune drifted out from the terminal in March 7th's hand.
[Some deserts on this planet were oceans once...]
"What song is this?" Delta asked, her ears twitching at the unfamiliar, haunting melody.
"A song I copied from the Hyperion's database. I think it's called... Moon Halo?"
However, the soaring vocals didn't seem to stir Bronya's spirit at all. Instead, it was Stelle who suddenly froze. Her golden eyes widened, glazing over as a phantom vision hijacked her senses.
In her mind's eye, a woman with fiery red hair turned to look at her. Himeko. But not the navigator she knew—this Himeko smiled with a heartbreaking, tender finality, saying absolutely nothing.
As the female voice from the terminal continued to sing, Stelle's body moved on its own. Her boots crunched heavily into the snow, stepping past the others. She walked in a straight, unswerving line toward Bronya, who stood paralyzed before the Stellaron sealing device.
Bronya's knuckles were white, her hands tightly gripping the dull, lightless shaft of the Flame Lance. She blinked in surprise, looking up as the tall, gray-haired Trailblazer approached step by step.
"What are you doing?" Bronya asked, her tone carrying a sharp, defensive edge.
Stelle ignored the question completely.
She reached out. Her calloused hands gently but firmly covered the back of Bronya's trembling fingers. Standing right behind the young Guardian, Stelle guided her arms upward, assisting her in raising the heavy weapon.
Whoosh!
Amber flames violently erupted from the tip of the lance. A searing, roaring heatwave instantly swept across the frozen peak. The century-old ice of Everwinter Hill—frost that had never once yielded to the sun—hissed furiously under the sudden, intense temperature, rising into the air as thick white steam.
The once dull, heavy metal was now completely enveloped in roaring fire. complex, ancient patterns etched along its surface began to flow with a brilliant, molten glow, pulsing like the heartbeat of the planet itself.
Bronya's long silver hair whipped wildly backward in the surging thermal updraft. Despite the raging inferno inches from her face, she didn't feel burned. Instead, she could clearly feel the steady, reassuring warmth from the hands resting over hers, alongside an immense, ancient power conducting straight through the metal shaft and flooding into her very soul.
High above, the eternal blizzard broke. A massive crack tore through the suffocating gray clouds, and a brilliant shaft of long-absent sunlight poured down through the gap. The golden rays struck the tip of the lance Bronya held high, illuminating her like a beacon in the endless winter.
Stelle slowly pulled her hands away, letting Bronya bear the weight of the weapon alone.
"Go and turn this imperfect story into..."
The phantom voice of Himeko echoed softly in Stelle's ears. The Trailblazer's gaze remained somewhat hollow, lost in a memory that didn't belong to her. Hot tears silently spilled over her lower lashes, tracking down her cold cheeks. She had no idea why she was crying. Her chest just ached with a deep, overwhelming grief that she simply couldn't control.
"...the way you want it to be."
That final, concluding whisper didn't come from the phantom. It vibrated directly into Stelle's mind, carried by Rekka's unmistakable divine sense.
"I..." Bronya stared at the roaring Flame Lance in her grasp, completely at a loss for words. The sheer weight of the Preservation's gaze was staggering.
"It's not that you're incapable of burning." Stelle's voice was quiet, steadying. "You just needed someone to lend you their flame."
Tear stains still glistened on Stelle's face, but the golden clarity had returned to her eyes. She took a step back, offering Bronya a somewhat clumsy, genuine smile.
"Now, it's yours."
Bronya opened her mouth to speak, but her throat tightened. Words failed her. She could only nod forcefully, her knuckles white as she gripped the Flame Lance with newfound, unshakeable resolve.
A few paces away, Cocolia said absolutely nothing. The Supreme Guardian just quietly watched the burning lance in her daughter's hand, her eyes tracing the unmatched look of fierce determination etched onto Bronya's face. The biting wind and snow whipped Cocolia's long blonde hair across her vision, obscuring half of her face, hiding whatever complex emotions warred behind her eyes.
March 7th quickly scurried over, leaning in close to Stelle. "Are you okay?" she whispered, her pink eyes full of worry. "Why were you crying just now?"
Stelle shook her head, raising a gloved hand to haphazardly scrub the moisture from her cheeks.
"I don't know. It was just... suddenly very sad." She lowered her gaze, staring blankly at her own palms. "I think... I saw Sister Himeko in the fire..."
Dan Heng stood silently to the side. His sharp gaze swept between Stelle and Bronya, assessing the situation before finally drifting upward. He stared at the impossibly massive, cosmic figure looming in the sky above Everwinter Hill.
Stelle turned back around, her grip tightening around the hilt of the heavy greatsword she had somehow manifested. For some inexplicable reason, holding this specific blade made her feel as if a reactor of inexhaustible strength was pumping through her veins. It was incredibly warm to the touch, carrying the comforting sensation of being embraced by someone who cared deeply for her.
"I can..." Stelle murmured, her eyes reflecting the dancing embers. 'Light up the sky.'
She hoisted the greatsword high. Brilliant, orange-red flames blazed fiercely along its heavy edge. Unlike the destructive heat of the Stellaron, this fire wasn't searing—it was purely warm. The radiant firelight washed over her face, illuminating the two tear stains that hadn't yet dried. Combined with Bronya's lance, the amber and orange flames pushed back the eternal storm, lighting up the entire sky.
"Put the sword away."
Dan Heng stepped forward, the familiar weight of Cloud-Piercer resting easily in his grip. His voice was calm, grounding. "You've released enough of your power for today."
Stelle blinked, the trance breaking. She obediently lowered her arm. The roaring flames on the greatsword instantly retracted, shrinking back into the dark red metal. It returned to its original, dormant appearance, though it still emitted a faint, comforting aura of warmth.
"I owe you all an explanation."
Cocolia's voice broke the silence. It was a bit raspy from the freezing wind, but her tone carried a heavy, grounded firmness that hadn't been there before. "About the Stellaron, about the Everwinter, and about everything that has transpired over the past few hundred years. When we return to Qlipoth Fort, I will tell you the whole truth."
"No rush," Dan Heng replied smoothly. "Let's deal with the immediate matter at hand first."
He tilted his head back, looking up at the colossal figure dominating the heavens. Rekka was currently "gazing" down at them with that terrifying, featureless cosmic face. Even though the entity lacked any discernible expression, Dan Heng just knew—deep in his bones—that the chaotic bastard was grinning from ear to ear right now.
Cocolia nodded slowly. She turned her attention to the golden Stellaron, which was currently firmly restrained within a prison of floating silver cubes. The Cancer of All Worlds kept violently crashing against the transparent walls of its cage, pulsing with malicious intent, but it simply couldn't break free.
"The Stellaron..." Cocolia began, her eyes narrowing at the source of her madness. "How do you plan to handle it?"
"We will take it away," Dan Heng stated.
"I see."
"The Antimatter Legion will inevitably follow the trail of the Stellaron. We are taking it off this planet to protect your world."
Cocolia closed her eyes, letting out a long, shuddering breath. She gave a single nod of understanding.
First things first.
"Bronya," the Supreme Guardian turned to her daughter. "It is time to lift the travel ban between the Overworld and the Underworld."
The Stellaron had been sealed. The Aeon Qlipoth had manifested its gaze. The lie could no longer be maintained; she had to take action immediately.
Bronya's eyes widened in shock. "Lift... the ban?"
"Yes. I will personally announce the truth to all the people of Belobog."
Standing off to the side, March 7th couldn't help but elbow Dan Heng in the ribs. "Is this... what do you call it? A change of heart at the eleventh hour?" she whispered loudly.
"It's called taking responsibility for her decisions," Dan Heng corrected softly.
Bronya stepped forward, her grip on the Flame Lance tightening. "Mother, I will stay by your side. We will face them together."
"No need." Cocolia offered a faint, melancholy smile, gently shaking her head. "From today onward, my daughter... you must learn to face things alone."
— — —
Several hours later.
Back in the safety of the Astral Express's parlor car, Welt Yang felt like his heart was going to give out. He sat heavily on the plush sofa, massaging his temples as a massive migraine threatened to split his skull in two.
He felt like he was about to die.
Why did Stelle go out on one single trailblazing expedition and come back wielding a giant, fiery greatsword?
What did she mean she wanted to become the 'Flames of Incandescence'?!
And worse... what did she mean she saw Himeko in the fire?!
Was this right?!
No! This was absolutely, fundamentally, categorically not right!
Welt's jaw locked. A vein pulsed visibly at his temple. He didn't need a genius-level intellect to figure out who was responsible for this highly specific, deeply traumatizing cinematic parallel.
Rekka.
That chaotic, reality-bending menace had absolutely orchestrated this entire scenario on purpose just to mess with him.
Currently, the senior Trailblazer was squatting in the dark corner of Rekka's personal cabin. His hands were tightly gripping the handle of his cane—the Star of Eden—his knuckles white with barely suppressed fury.
He was just waiting. Waiting patiently for the middle of the night, when the universe's daily reset would force Rekka to change out of his untouchable cosmic Path and back into a physical, punchable form.
And when that happened, Welt was going to use his cane to deliver a very vigorous, very heavy dose of 'care' directly to the boy's skull.
In the old days, they had a specific term for this kind of disciplinary beating.
It was known as...
The Education of Love.
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