“Alnea!” Cecilia roared, staring wide eyed at the black robed boy. Or what was left of him. A pale yellowish red flame, roughly twice the size of her head. Maybe thrice. It did not matter. Nothing did. Not anymore. And never again.

  “…Huh?” a yellow robed Wanderer said, glancing in the direction where the shout came from, only to find a green robed girl staring at the Flame of Miracle they were standing around. “Serpia?”

  “…No, not just Serpia,” a blue robed Wanderer added, glancing in another direction. “There is also that white haired girl.”

  “How did these two get here?” a third Wanderer said, furrowing his brows in thought, as the other Wanderers of their alliance also began noticing the girls. Even their leaders, standing closest to the Flame.

  “These two… What about the people who went to stop them?”

  “Do you need to ask?”

  “…Remind me again, exactly how many people we sent to take them down?”

  “Thirty five for the Serpia, and thirty for the white haired girl.”

  “There is also the forty Wanderers we sent after the Weina, who have yet to come back, or even contact us. I am afraid they might not be faring any better.”

  “…I thought that we had already overestimated them by sending over half of our people just to hold them back. Yet, it looks like we underestimated them once again.”

  “No wonder all our plans in the desert always ended in failures.”

  “…Look at the bright side. This time, their sacrifice was not in vain.”

  “…At least not completely. Those idiots still failed in their task.”

  “So, what are we going to do about them?”

  “…I think we can just ignore them. After all, we have already secured our mission’s target. There is no need to take any unnecessary risks.”

  “Easy for you to say. There were barely any Wanderers of your clan in the team that went to stop them. How do you think we will explain our losses if we go back empty handed?”

  “…I think you are forgetting something. Most of the Wanderers who died a while ago in suppressing our target were from my clan. Besides, the other teams may not have had as many Wanderers of my clan as yours, there were still quite a few of them. Just on a rough estimate, our loss this time is greater than all our losses in the black desert over the past half year combined. Do you think I will not be questioned when I go back?”

  “Then why are you hesitating? It is just two girls anyway. And they are clearly near their limits. Our men would not even break a sweat against them.”

  “…It was this exact overconfidence that cost us nearly thirty Wanderers. And if it were not for the naive thoughts of our target, that number might have been at least twice as high. If we could have even caught him, that is. With the speed he showed earlier, as long he did not care about his teammate’s life, no one could have kept him here against his wishes. Or stop him from completing his Trial.”

  “…This is different. These girls are not as fast as him. And they do not have any invulnerable defences like the boy either. It should not be difficult to take them down.”

  “I am sure that is exactly what the Wanderers who besieged them thought.”

  “You—

  “Alright, that is enough,” the pink robed Wanderer said, glancing in between the red and green robed Wanderer. “There is no need to argue. If there is something you cannot decide on, we can just vote on it, like we always do. Besides, I do not think it is up to us to decide whether or not we can let them go. With how close these girls are to our target, I am afraid—

  “What did you bastards do?” Cecilia said, with a voice so loud, that it pierced through the forest like a blade—No, not like a blade, but like her claws, its Sharp edges cutting through all that came in its path, be it the fog or the trees. Even the Wanderers who dared to raise their swords. Moreover, she was not alone. Striding next to her, Charging towards her enemies, was a cat, glowing in the same light as her Aspects, with a Sharp glint in its eyes.

  “…Like I said,” the pink robed Wanderer said, motioning the Wanderers of his clan with his eyes to block the girl’s charge. “It is not up to us to decide how to deal with these girls.”

  “…Indeed,” the other leaders of the alliance said, asking the Wanderers of their clans to support their allies, and subdue the girls. Even the white robed one.

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  “Although it might increase our losses, and our chances of getting punished, we should not let go of any variables that might interfere with our mission.”

  “…About that,” said the pink robed Wanderer, turning back to the Flames. “Can we still complete our mission now?”

  “…Probably.”

  “…We were only told to bring him back, but they did not specify us whether to bring him back as a human or a… wisp of flame?”

  “…That is more than a wisp. And I do not think anyone here wants our clan to question us why our target turned into a flame.”

  “…They should not blame us if they learn what kind of chance we got.”

  “The premise is that Mathias keeps his promise. And even if they will not blame us, at the very least, they will surely ask us to hand over all our gains.”

  “…Then we will just pick the things that cannot be handed over.”

  “…Do you dare take that risk?”

  “…No.”

  “Then we need to think of some other ideas.”

  “…I think we are forgetting a very important point,” the pink robed Wanderer said, still staring at the Flames. “Can he still be considered alive in his current state?”

  “…Perhaps?”

  “…Maybe.”

  “This is the first time I have ever seen such a situation, so I cannot be certain…”

  “Since none of us can figure it out, why not ask the man responsible for his current state?” the brown robed Wanderer said, glancing at the Whitebud man squatting next to the Flames. “Is he still alive, Mathias?”

  “…Alive?” the Whitebud man mumbled, not bothering to turn back towards his ignorant companions. His eyes, just as his Heart, was transfixed by the Flame. “He is much more than just alive. He is a miracle. Both, of Time, and Fire.”

  “His Roots are from the lineage of Time and Fire?”

  “…You should never speculate on a miracle, Nomar. I only said that the Miracle needs his Roots, not that they will become his Roots.”

  “…Rather than his Roots, I am more curious about whether or not you can turn him back to his old self,” the yellow robed Wanderer said, staring into the Flames. “Do not get me wrong. I am not against letting him suffer in his current state. But I do want to make him suffer a little in my own hands. Besides, bringing him back to the Lost City as a wisp of fire would be a little difficult.”

  “…He is not just a wisp of fire, he is a miracle. And no, I cannot turn him back. No one can. He is a miracle now. And everything is up to the Miracle’s will.”

  “…The Miracle again… What exactly is the Miracle?”

  “Did I not tell you about it already?” the Whitebud man said, extending his hands towards the flames, only for it to be stopped by an invisible force just inches away from its outer shell. An immovable force, that would not let him past no matter what he tried.

  “The Miracle is an exchange… a promise…”

  “That is what we are asking,” the green robed Wanderer said. “What kind of promise can be worthy to be called a miracle?”

  “…The kind that can grant your wish,” the Whitebud man said, not in the least bothered by the flame’s rejection of his hand. “Any wish that you can imagine.”

  “…That is the same as saying nothing. We want to know exactly what kind of wish the miracle can fulfil.”

  “Exactly. We have invested so much in your plan, and even risked the mission of clans, but we still do not know anything about the miracle you have been trying to summon.”

  “…I did not hide anything from you,” the Whitebud man said after a pause, turning back towards his companions for the first time in a while. “Everything I did, I did right in front of you. Even the Ritual I used to talk with the being sealed within this land. If you still do not understand anything, then it is because of your own ignorance, and not my negligence or deliberate attempt to keep things from you.”

  “…Are saying that we are too stupid to understand your Miracle?”

  “Be careful of what you say, Onil. The Miracle is not mine. Never was. Never will be. I just channelled the being sealed within this land into our target. And in return, I got a promise for a miracle.”

  “…Then can you tell us what exactly is the being that you have channelled into our target?”

  “…Are you doubting the Miracle?”

  “…I am not doubting the Miracle. I just want to know more about—

  “If you doubt the Miracle, it will never fulfil your wish.”

  “…Stop fooling around, Mathias,” the brown robed Wanderer said with a frown. “We have been very patient with you for the past month, going along with all your whims, be it to postpone our plans till the end of the Trial, to even changing our plans altogether, giving you our unconditional support every time you asked for it. But every time we ask you a question, you give the same answer. Every. Single. Time. Do you think this is a game?”

  “…No, this is a Miracle.”

  “…Just get to the point and tell us. What exactly is the Miracle, and what kind of wishes it can fulfil?”

  “…You want to know about the Miracle?”

  “…Did you even listen to anything we said?”

  “…The answer is right before you,” the Whitebud man said, turning back to the Flames. “Do you see this Fire? As long as you can touch it, you will get the answer to all your questions. Even the questions that you did not know you had.”

  “…And the wish—

  “Naturally, the Fire will also fulfil your wish. But only if you can touch it.”

  “…That was not the deal we made.”

  “I remember our deal. And I also remember telling you that for the miracle to succeed, you must believe in it,” the Whitebud man said, turning back to his companions. “Are you saying that you do not believe in the miracle?”

  “…We just have to touch it, right?”

  “That is all you have to do.”

  “…Step aside,” the brown robed Wanderer said, as he stepped forward, and stretched his right hand towards the Flame. But before he could reach it, a spear of piercing white light descended from the foggy skies, stabbing into the ground right before the man, separating him from the Flame.

  “Who do you think you are trying to touch with your dirty claws…”