Ruins and despair. That was all that Alnea could see around him. The ruins of the forest, ravage by storm and fire. The scorched ground, the charred trees, the boiling swamps and bogs, and the frantic fog, everything around him was screaming of despair, begging for help. But it was too late. The forest could not be saved. After all, the prison it had been guarding was already broken. What more need was there for the forest to exist?

  A couple of days, a week at the latest, and the entire forest would be gone, destroyed by the same system that made it so unique. And that was not just a guess. He had felt it earlier. When the Fire Spirit was using his body to rekindle his Flame. The strange circulation of the fog, the way it was locked in one place, and even the way that the forest healed itself, everything about the forest was based on the Origin that it had sealed. And though, technically, the Fire Spirit had not broken his Origin out of the seal, what he had left behind was just a hollow shell. A husk, to deceive the prison, and buy some time for himself.

  A couple of days was already a conservative estimate. With how hard the forest was working to heal the ruins around him, it may not even last a day. Though even if it abandoned the parts that had already been ruined, it would only be able to extend its life for a few more days. No matter what path it chose, the forest was doomed. But that did not mean that there was nothing in the forest worth saving.

  Staring at the strange, blazing flower, Alnea could not help wondering about the nature of Fire once again. In restraint, of course. Fire may be strange and wondrous, but it was not for him. Though the Fire Spirit seemed very persistent on pushing him to the path of Fire, he remained firm on his chosen path. Still, he could not deny that the strange flower in front of him did catch his attention.

  Roughly about seven to eight inches tall, with a pale yellow stem and bright red petals, with a bluish red centre, the flower was different from any flower that he had ever seen. Not that he had seen many flowers. Or read about them. Unless they were some kind of precious herbs or treasures. And clearly, the flower in front of him did not fall in either of those categories. At least not to his knowledge.

  Still, just by looking at the flower, Alnea had a hunch that the flower was a miracle in itself. The last miracle that the Fire Spirit left behind in the world. And it had to be saved. If not for anything else, then just for its… beauty? When did he begin caring about the beauty of flowers? When did he even care about flowers?

  There was indeed something wrong with the flower, Alnea thought, looking at it with a frown, but bent down to pick it up anyway. It was—

  “Get away from that flower!”

  Alnea barely paused for a moment, before continuing with his actions, ignoring the Whitebud Wanderer lunging at him with a crazed expression on his face. The greater the lunatic’s desire to keep the flower, the more he could not let that bastard have it. Especially considering that it might have something to do with the Fire Spirit’s discarded Origin. If he let the lunatic devour it…

  No, absolutely not. A lunatic that could not be hurt through usual means was already tough enough to deal with, he could not even begin to imagine what it would be like to deal with an evolved Fire Servant. Though he was not certain about his guess, he could not afford to take any chances. Besides, did he even need a reason to deny his enemy what he wanted so desperately?

  Grabbing the flower with his left hand, Alnea tore it—The flower left the ground to follow his hands without any resistance. It was as if it had just been waiting for him to get close. And when he did, it discarded its roots to jump out of the ground, and into his hand, urging him to quickly take it away from the lunatic lunging towards them. Was it also aware of its fate should it fall into the lunatic’s hands?

  Alnea Slashed through the unnecessary thoughts in his Heart, as he reached for his sword, only to grab the empty air next to his waist. His sword… A quick scan from his Spirit quickly showed him where his sword was. Lying on the ground, some twenty metres away. Along with his dagger. But the lunatic’s attack was already upon him. Still, he did not panic. He did not even urge his Aspects. Instead, he directed all the Oren he called from the Origin Sea into his body, and—

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  A pair of claws, glowing in greenish black light, tore their way through the Flames, forcing the Whitebud Wanderer back to his senses, reminding him once again, that he was not truly invincible. Not yet. All three of the girls had shown abilities capable of hurting him. And if the girls could hurt him, so could the boy. Especially since he too was granted with a Miracle. Even if that Miracle was not the same as his, the boy’s abilities were bound to be no weaker than his.

  More importantly, the boy was not alone. At the moment, only the Serpia girl was close to him, but the other two girls were not too far away. Clashing with them head on, all by himself, would be a foolish choice. After all, it was not as if the boy was the only one with companions. He too had his own followers. Though they seemed to have become a little dissatisfied with him. Still, he was sure that he could get them back in line. The only thing he was unwilling to let go of was the flower…

  Alnea directed all the Oren he had summoned back to the Origin Sea, as he saw the lunatic back away with an unwilling expression on his face, before turning towards the girl standing with her back against him. Clad in a green robe, with her hair fluttering with the wind and flames, the girl stood a little hunched, baring her claws in front of her chest, ready to pounce on any enemy that dared to come close.

  Only when the lunatic retreated more than ten metres away, did the girl turn towards him, along with the cat by her side. But unlike the dumb cat, who seemed to be nonchalant about his presence, and kept licking its claws, while letting out satisfied burps, probably from devouring too much Fortune in too short a time, the girl was looking at him with a wary gaze.

  “…Are you Alnea, or…”

  “What?” Alnea said, raising the edge his lips in amusement. “Don’t you recognise me?”

  “…I am the one asking questions here,” Cecilia said, still maintaining her vigilance, though from the relaxing expression on her face, she seemed to have already gotten her answers. “Are you my Alnea?”

  “Yours?”

  “…You know what I mean.”

  “And if I say that I am not?”

  “Then I will just beat you up until the real Alnea comes out.”

  “…As expected of you.”

  “…Are you trying to insinuate something?”

  “No, I meant, how should I prove myself?”

  “…Tell me something that only my Alnea would know.”

  “…You do know that the other Alnea also shares my memory, right?”

  “Just answer my question.”

  “Let’s see. How about the promise I made with big sis Serena?”

  “What promise?”

  “That I will always take care of you.”

  Cecilia kicked him in his shins as soon as he finished his words, before turning around, and shouting to the girls in the distance, “The pervert is back!”

  “Who are you calling a pervert?” Alnea grumbled, while wincing in pain. “And did you have to use your Concept while kicking me?”

  “…You deserve it,” Cecilia said, only to be betrayed by the flush on her cheeks. Though the flush was soon drowned out by her worries. “Are you alright?”

  “…I have been better,” Alnea said, caressing his shins. “What about you? Are you alright?”

  “…I have been better too,” Cecilia said, trying to hide the tiredness in her eyes, failing miserably in her attempts. Thanks to Forne, she was not injured much, and had even saved on her Spirit Power, but fighting against hundreds of enemies, that too, without any rest, was beginning to take its toll on her. Though, such an intense battle was not without its own benefits.

  The Sharpness, that once used to be confined to just her claws, seemed to be exuding from her entire being. Maybe a little too much. Excessive Sharpness was not a good thing. But she could correct it later. For the moment, gaining further recognition and understanding of her Concept was enough. Not that she could do anything else anyway. She was too tired. And so were the other two girls. Especially Yuri.

  “…I am sorry for worrying you once again.”

  “…It is alright. I am used to it now.”

  “…It really was not my fault this time.”

  “Really?”

  “…Alright, maybe it was partly my fault. I should have been more careful. But I did the best in my situation.”

  “…We will talk about this later,” Yuri said, as she glanced towards the Wanderers regrouping in the distance. “Can you still fight?”