For a while, the peace seemed real.
I thought I could get used to this quieter life.
But peace is always fragile.
It ended the day the elves raided South Jaka City.
The news spread like wildfire—dozens dead, chaos in the streets, the old wounds of war torn open again. My identity as a healer brought me back into service, but this time it was different.
I was offered a position, not as a frontline fighter, but as a support for a group of newly established magic swordsmen.
Initially, it sounded ordinary, just another government facility disguised as an academy.
But everything changed when I met the head instructor.
Her name was Hale. She stood out in every way: tall, striking, skin as dark as polished ebony and a high ponytail of snow-white hair. She carried herself with quiet authority, her words measured but warm.
"I've heard great things about you, Miss Carmilla," she greeted me during our first meeting. "And I've done my research. I appreciate what you've done."
I wasn't sure what she meant. "What do you mean, Miss Hale?"
She offered a knowing smile. "Unlike soldiers, or rather everyone else, you're a natural-born pacifist."
I see. Then does she know who I am?
"I know about the times you secretly healed prisoners of war behind everyone's back."
I offered no solace as my face was kept straight. "Then what of it?"
Hale smiled as she looked down a bit and spoke with a relieved tone, "I am glad. I am really glad there are still some good people like you left in the world—the ones who understand war for what it is and do not hate the other party too much."
Hale looks up to me and says, "I respect that and frankly I share that belief."
She was an odd one, a head instructor of the military for magic swordsmen, yet harboring pacifist intentions.
"We fought each other with other races as a means of self-defense. There is no sense in fighting simply to obliterate our enemies. If there's even a glimmer of chance for us to reach peace properly, I would definitely encourage that. No.. It's more like I am fighting to find that chance."
Her honesty disarmed me.
She looked out the window, her eyes reflecting a longing I recognized. "I want to protect humanity. But I also share Grand Saint Veuz, The Leader of the United Front's, perspective. All beings are meant to be equal—none above the others. That's why L'arc Academy exists. It's not just to train soldiers or heroes, but to serve as the frontline of peacekeeping, not to fight. When there are no more wars to fight, I want L'arc to become agents of peace—arcs connecting every race in the world. That is what our names mean. The Arc that Connects."
Her words struck me. I detected no hint of deceit or calculation for the first time in years.
She believed what she said. And for the first time since I could remember, I let myself hope again—hope that maybe, just maybe, things could change.
After that conversation, I took time to reflect, sitting quietly in the gardens, the noise of the academy distant.
For so long, I'd felt alone in my ideals.
But here, at least, was one other person who believed in something better.
Maybe time changes people's perspective over time.
Or perhaps I was just unlucky to be found by the government?
Perhaps this is a new place for me to help achieve my dreams.
***
Instructor Hale summoned me to her office, where I'd visited only briefly before.
I stood quietly near the door entrance as she spoke firmly to two people.
She said their names were Raymed and Thalamik.
From the looks of it, I met them the day I was supposed to meet Hale.
They showed me the way to the receptionist.
So, at least I know they have goodwill.
"I've been observing your progress closely," Hale began, her gaze unwavering.
"Your capabilities are impressive, but you both still lack something vital: teamwork beyond your comfortable familiarity."
I watched quietly as Thalamik glanced puzzled at Raymed. Thalamik cautiously said, "Pardon, Instructor, but Ray and I work perfectly together. Our communication relies heavily on intuitive thinking."
"Exactly," Hale countered bluntly. "From my point of view, you two rely heavily on your bond and experiences together. It's a strength, yes, but it's also limiting. I'm assigning someone else to your team. Consider it a test of your adaptability."
My stomach tightened slightly.
I understood their hesitation—being thrust into a new dynamic wasn't easy, and I had my own reservations.
Would these soldiers treat me differently?
Would they use me, as others had done before?
I took a steadying breath, pushing those fears aside as I heard Raymed's voice protest.
"Someone else? Instructor Hale, with all respect, Thal and I—"
"Precisely why," Hale cut him off firmly, allowing no debate. "You need to learn how to trust others beyond yourselves. Enter!"
Taking that as my cue, I stepped forward through the door. My red eyes met theirs briefly, assessing their reaction. Now that I see them clearly I recognized them both immediately. They're without a doubt the people who help me the other day. And the way Thalamik looks at me is really unique. His expression was guarded and cautious enough to make anyone wary. My earlier interaction with them had been brief and polite. But today I'll know for sure what kind of people these two are.
"It's nice to see you again, Thalamik and Raymed," Igreeted politely, inclining my head gracefully. "I am Carmilla, from the Saint Ascension Program."
Raymed shifted awkwardly, his demeanor unexpectedly gentle for a soldier. "Yeah, it's been a while. How's the academy treating you?"
"Quite well," I replied calmly, maintaining composure. "Instructor Hale recommended this team personally. I hope to live up to her expectations—and yours."
Hale explained further, highlighting my strengths in mana control and support abilities. I caught the subtle flicker of doubt in Thalamik's eyes. Clearly, my addition was causing him internal conflict, likely weighing potential advantages against his instinctive caution.
"You will have an assessment together tomorrow morning," Hale concluded sharply. "Spend today learning about each other. Dismissed."
Outside Hale's office, we stood awkwardly until Raymed broke the silence first, his curiosity open and sincere.
"I didn't expect to see you again, Carmilla. You mentioned you're from the Saint Ascension Program?"
"I am," I confirmed gently, assessing their reactions. We Saints aren't typically combatants, but practical experience and teamwork are essential. I've heard you're both remarkable."
Thalamik's dry remark surprised me. "Remarkable is one way to put it. We attract attention, that's for sure."
Ray laughed nervously, obviously recalling the same memory. "Yeah, well, Thal's mana control isn't exactly subtle either. But at least he's better now at hiding it."
As it seems, perhaps my fears were exaggerated—these two seemed more genuine than I expected.
No, it's too soon to say that.
"Let's find somewhere quiet to talk," Thalamik suggested, his voice softer. "We should know each other's capabilities and fighting styles before tomorrow's assessment."
Settling beneath an oak tree in the courtyard, Raymed began, curiosity evident in his voice, "So, Carmilla, why join the Saints? That's not an easy program to enter. Well, mainly because you have to seclude yourself."
I carefully considered Raymed's question about my motivations.
It seems a generic answer will be best.
"I wanted to help people. Protecting and healing others was something that called to me deeply. But as the war escalated, I realized that sometimes healing alone isn't enough. That's why I chose combat training as well—so that I can heal those while supporting those who are on the battlefield."
They listened closely, their faces reflecting understanding rather than judgment.
Thalamik's quiet agreement touched something deep within me. Perhaps these soldiers were different—driven by protection, not destruction.
Their next words were the proof.
Raymed caught Thalamik's expression and nudged him on the shoulder lightly. "Seems like we have similar reasons. Fighting to protect."
"Yeah," Thalamik agreed softly. "I suppose we do."
We then continued on brainstorming, finding our strengths and how to match our skills.
The next morning's training exercise was intense. I carefully observed their methods closely—Raymed's raw power and Thalamik's precise, strategic maneuvers complemented my healing and support magic. Yet, even as we fought efficiently together, I noticed Thalamik hesitate, his eyes momentarily distant.
"Thalamik! Stay focused! We're nearly there!" I called sharply, pulling him back to reality.
Seeing his internal struggle sparked unexpected empathy in me—his haunted expression was familiar, mirroring my own hidden burdens.
After successfully retrieving the small crystal artifact and impressing Instructor Hale, we found ourselves beneath the oak tree again. I sensed Thalamik's turmoil clearly now, feeling a powerful urge to support him.
Yet, I hesitated.
Was it really right for me to care this much about a teammate I just met?
What if they found out quickly who I really am, or worse, if the government knows where I am?
Grand Saint Veuz erased my identity by faking my death.
She helped me fake my death and fake news. On paper, it is told that the Child of Miracles died by 'suicide' due to her lover, who was a man committing adultery named Adit, who was executed for being a traitor.
No. Why Am I Still Thinking About This?
A man stood before me with darkened eyes, and he probably had no reason to live anymore.
Isn't that enough reason for me to help?
Because I long for someone to help me back in those days.
I must be the one to help others if I can.
"You seemed troubled during the exercise," I murmured gently, holding his gaze. "I can help, not in solving it. But perhaps through listening as a friend."
"South Jaka City…" Thalamik said hesitantly.
I see. He was one of the victims of that event.
When Thalamik finally opened up about South Jaka City, his raw pain resonated deeply within me. I recognized his grief, the familiar shadow of guilt and loss I'd known too well.
It shocked me—these soldiers, whom I'd initially mistrusted, bore burdens so similar to mine.
"Thank you for opening up, and you should know that... You don't have to carry it alone," I assured him softly. "You have Ray, and now I'm here. We'll fight alongside you. Not only on the battlefield but against those demons you face within."
"Demons, huh?" Thalamik let out a bitter laugh. "I stopped believing in demons and angels when I saw what those elves were capable of."
I see, so he does harbor hatred towards the elves.
But that kind of thing is natural.
"That doesn't mean you should stop believing in yourself. At the very least, you need to believe in your ability to protect that event from happening to others. Because that's what you want, right?"
Thalamik stopped as he began thinking.
Raymed spoke with a voice quieter than usual. "We need to get stronger together, Thal. That's how we ensure nothing like South Jaka City ever happens again.
Thalamik exhaled and nodded. "…Fine."
Ray gave me a lopsided grin and nudged him in the ribs. "That was way more dramatic than it needed to be, Thal."
Thalamik then shoved him back, smirking despite myself. "Screw you, Ray."
I chuckled. "I see you two are back to normal."
His reluctant smile, his wary acknowledgment, eased something inside me. Perhaps my fears had been unfounded. Even though they might hate the elves for what they did, these two warriors, carrying their own deep scars, genuinely wanted peace.
They were fighting the same battles I was—against external threats and internal fears alike.
"Should we grab Calpis water?" I asked softly, feeling strangely hopeful.
"Do you like Calpis water?" Thalamik asked, slightly surprised.
"It's great!" I replied warmly.
I felt a genuine sense of belonging for the first time in a long while.
***
Real Battle Simulation.
That's what they called it.
To me, though, this didn't feel like training.
Not because it is too easy, though.
Each passing day at L'arc Academy grew heavier, the air thickening with an unspoken dread.
The instructors no longer hid their whispers, and the usual confidence among cadets wavered under an invisible strain. It reminded me painfully of the years I'd spent on the front lines—this was a feeling I knew far too well.
Raymed noticed it first. He was sensitive to the shifts around us, and even Thalamik seemed to sense something beneath his usual stoic exterior. None of us dared speak openly about it, but we knew. The fragile peace we'd all desperately tried to maintain was close to fracturing.
One afternoon, after another exhausting drill, I sat with Ray and Thalamik at our usual spot in the mess hall. Even the food tasted emptier, echoing the dull anxiety that lingered among us.
"Have you heard anything more?" Raymed asked quietly, prodding his food absentmindedly. "Feels like something big is brewing out there."
I nodded slowly, recalling the hushed, urgent tones I'd overheard. "I've overheard instructors whispering. This isn't just a few border disputes. There's a genuine fear that this will escalate. Everyone's on edge."
Thalamik gazed out the window, his expression clouded. "It's more than that. The scenarios they're running... they're too specific, too real. It's as if they know what's coming but won't tell us outright.
Raymed leaned back, forcing optimism into his voice. "Whatever it is, we'll face it. We're stronger now, together. But I agree; something doesn't feel right."
I glanced between them, sensing Thalamik's unease. Gently, I reached out and placed my hand over his, trying to convey reassurance. "Ray is right... Right now, we've got each other, Thal. Whatever comes, we'll handle it together."
Though my words were sincere, an internal hesitation lingered.
Could I trust these soldiers completely?
Past experiences warned me to keep my guard up, even if they seemed different.
No, perhaps this was also to decide firsthand.
Are they really the arbiters of peace, or are they like the animals I have met before?
Instructor Hale summoned all senior cadets for an urgent briefing the following morning. The tension hung thick in the courtyard as we stood rigidly at attention.
"Listen carefully," Hale's authoritative voice cut through our nervous silence. "Today's exercise won't be a simulation. This is real. We've detected unauthorized movements close to the academy's perimeter. We suspect a potential threat. Your mission is simple—locate the intruders, gather intel, and neutralize them if necessary. This isn't a drill, so stay alert. Understood?"
"Yes, Instructor!" Our voices echoed together, resolve mingling with apprehension.
As we geared up, I fastened my armor carefully, watching Raymed and Thalamik closely. Thalamik's eyes betrayed a momentary flash of pain—one I'd learned to recognize from our time together. Though still uncertain about fully trusting them, their silent determination steadied me.
"Ready for this, Thal?" Raymed clapped Thalamik's back, his natural enthusiasm bolstering my courage.
"We stay sharp, watch each other's backs, and we'll be fine." I affirmed quietly.
We moved silently through the dense forest surrounding the academy. Every rustle felt hostile, every shadow threatening. This familiar scenario pulled me back to those dark days on battlefields where innocence was lost daily.
"They're close," Raymed whispered, inspecting broken branches.
Moments later, we stumbled upon a clearing littered with signs of recent conflict—scorched earth, discarded weapons, bloodstains. A pang of anxiety shot through me.
"This was deliberate," Thalamik murmured grimly.
I scanned the clearing, assessing quickly. "We need to report this. This is more serious than anyone expected."
Raymed shook his head stubbornly. "We can't turn back now. If there's a real threat nearby, we have to handle it before it reaches the academy."
Thalamik hesitated but eventually agreed. I remained wary but nodded slowly.
Deeper into the forest, we tracked mana traces carefully. Soon, hostile voices drifted through the trees. Peering cautiously through thick foliage, we saw armored figures clustered together, clearly preparing for an attack.
Raymed's eyes hardened resolutely. "This is our chance. If we wait, they might reach the academy."
I glanced at Thalamik, our eyes meeting briefly before I nodded. We surged forward together, launching into precise combat formations.
The battle erupted fiercely, mana-infused blows and protective spells blending seamlessly. My role was clear—support and defense. Healing mana surged through me instinctively, reinforcing their strikes and shielding us from harm. Despite my reservations, we moved as one cohesive unit, pushing the intruders into a frantic retreat.
As silence finally reclaimed the battlefield, I immediately checked Raymed, who leaned against a tree, breathing heavily. "Let me heal you," I whispered, gently channeling restorative mana into his wounds.
Thalamik's sudden whisper broke my concentration. "Demi-humans… wolfkin."
I turned quickly, eyes widening as Thalamik held the enemy's helmet. Shock gripped me. "What did you say, Thal?"
He met our gaze steadily. "These weren't elves or human insurgents. They're demi-humans—wolfkin, from the demi-human territories."
"But why breach our borders?" Raymed's voice was tight.
"Something must've driven them here. Desperation, orders, maybe internal conflicts." I replied softly, unease tightening my chest. My mind raced. The peace I'd dreamed of, the fragile hope I'd clung to, was unraveling rapidly.
No, perhaps it wasn't because of the peace unravelling.
It was perhaps guilt.
My parents died at the hands of the wolfkin, and in turn, I also fought and helped kill countless wolfkin. Nothing that filled me with happiness came to mind when I thought about this race.
Thalamik sighed, frustration evident. "We must report immediately. This is only the beginning."
I nodded in silent agreement.
A renewed dread settled within me as we headed back.
Instructor Hale's reaction confirmed our fears. "Security tightens now. Remain vigilant," she instructed sharply.
Outside, beneath our familiar oak tree, Raymed broke the tense silence first. "Our first real mission. Can't say it was boring."
I forced a faint smile, despite lingering worry. "It's clear our peace is fragile. We're not just cadets anymore. We're protectors."
Thalamik glanced at us, sincerity softening his typically stern expression. "It's reassuring. Knowing we have each other."
Raymed chuckled softly. "Like I'd let anything happen to you two."
The fact that they both grow so much from the first time I met them.
I know Thalamik still hates the elves and that he is still struggling from his trauma, and Raymed was also too. They still try to do their best to be the protectors.
I admire that.
A genuine smile finally emerged. "We'll keep each other safe. No matter what comes."
But later that night, sleep evaded me.
Old wounds reopened, memories of violence, suffering, and betrayal haunted my restless thoughts.
I wandered quietly toward the dormitory corridor window, seeking solace in the silent night sky.
Noticing Thalamik standing by the window, I approached carefully. "Can't sleep?" I asked gently.
He nodded quietly, eyes reflecting deep turmoil. "The world's changing again. I can feel it. I'm not ready yet."
I understood his pain more deeply than he knew.
The weight of our shared burdens pressed heavily upon me.
Yet, my resolve firmed, driven by an emerging trust and hope I hadn't felt in years.
"Whatever comes, we'll face it," I assured him softly, surprising myself with the sincerity I felt. "Remember, you're not alone anymore."
He exhaled shakily. "I know. And that's the only reason I can face it."
"We all carry burdens. But together, they become bearable." I smiled warmly, and in that instant, my doubts about him, Raymed, and myself began to fade.
Though uncertainty loomed, I chose trust.
And maybe, just maybe, we truly could change this world together for the better.
***
That night was colder than usual. The chill settled heavily around me, as if trying to remind me of wounds that had never quite healed.
Sleep was elusive tonight, not because of my own fears, but because of him—Thalamik.
From across the room, I could hear the uneven rhythm of mana. Though he excelled at Mana control in his sleep, he was more chaotic than Raymed.
Even in sleep, he carried burdens no one should have to bear.
But the real question to be asked is.
Is that why you won't let us help, Thal?
The next morning, Thalamik barely looked present.
Even from across the training field, I could see it in the slump of his shoulders and the way he missed every third command.
His movements during morning drills were mechanical—like he was just going through the motions, not even bothering to hide the exhaustion anymore.
Ray kept glancing over, his brow furrowed with concern.
I tried to catch Thalamik's eye a few times, but he ignored us both.
It was obvious he was drowning in something deeper than fatigue.
I knew what haunted him, or at least the edges of it. We'd talked about it—his nightmares, his guilt. But now, the darkness seemed to have deepened.
I understood what it felt like to carry wounds nobody else could see, and I hated seeing Thalamik spiral this way.
Because if it is not solved quickly, he will be in an endless cycle of being haunted by the same thing repeatedly.
When Instructor Hale called Thalamik aside after training, I felt a knot twist inside my chest. Her voice, usually brisk and merciless, dropped to something almost gentle- a warning in itself.
"Thalamik," she said, quieter than I'd ever heard her, "you're slipping again."
I didn't want to eavesdrop, but Ray and I instinctively hung back, listening just out of sight. Thalamik's response was muted. "I know. I'm sorry. I just need some rest."
He always tried to downplay it. Tried to carry everything alone.
Instructor Hale shook her head. For a second, I thought she might reach out and comfort him, but instead, she steeled herself. "It's more than that. You're still fighting battles inside yourself. Until you confront that, you'll remain a liability not only to your team but to yourself."
The silence stretched. I pressed my lips together, my own frustrations bubbling up—because I wanted to tell him he didn't have to bear it alone, that we'd carry him as many times as he needed. But I also understood the pride in his eyes, the fear of dragging us down. I'd felt it too.
Hale's next words hit like a hammer. "You will only cause danger to your team. Therefore, I'm disqualifying you from academy activities. Pack your things and go home, Thalamik. You're not cut out for this!"
I winced for him. Even when you know something is true, it still hurts to hear it spoken aloud. Thalamik's silence was crushing.
Ray couldn't hold back. "Instructor, you can't be serious. There must be—"
"SILENCE!" Hale barked, her authority leaving no room for protest. "Those who don't abide by my rules don't belong here..."
Ray's protests faded, and all I could do was watch. I wanted to defend Thalamik, but I also knew he'd already made up his mind. Some part of him was expecting this. Maybe he even needed it, in some twisted way, permission to step away and heal.
When he turned to us, I could see it in his eyes—acceptance, resignation, and the smallest flicker of hope. I stayed quiet because I knew if I spoke, I'd try to convince him to stay. And that wouldn't help him.
"Understood," he murmured, almost inaudibly. Then he reached out, patting Ray's shoulder. "I'll be back; don't worry about it."
Ray's voice trembled. "I can't do this without you… Thal… but if it's time that you need, I'll wait for you."
I wanted to say the same. I wanted to shout at Hale, to refuse to let him go. But all I managed was a soft nod, holding Thalamik's gaze for a moment. Let him see he wasn't alone, even if he needed to walk this road without us for now.
"Thanks," he said, offering us a weak smile.
In the days that followed, the absence of Thalamik's steady presence was painfully apparent. Raymed became quieter, his usual confidence muted, and I found myself lingering on the edge of anxiety. Yet, I kept these feelings to myself, ever the calm healer, ever composed, afraid to show my own vulnerabilities.
It was for their own good, I thought.
After time had passed, he returned to us.
That morning, the familiar clamor of clashing weapons and shouted orders echoed through the corridors. Training was in full swing—cadets moved with purpose, their focus absolute.
Yet, the moment Thalamik stepped into the main hall, it was as if the world paused to catch its breath.
The shift was palpable.
Heads turned one by one, and conversations faded. Every pair of eyes tracked Thalamik's path as he walked past, his posture rigid with newfound resolve.
It wasn't the same heavy, haunted man I'd seen leave just days ago. There was something different—something brighter in the way he held himself.
Instructor Hale stood at the front, arms crossed, expression as inscrutable as ever. Ray and I lingered at the edge of the crowd, anxiety twisting in my stomach. I couldn't shake the feeling that something decisive was about to unfold.
Thalamik didn't hesitate. He strode straight to Hale, stopping in front of her, meeting her gaze with a kind of fire I hadn't seen in so long.
His voice rang out, cutting through the silence: "Instructor Hale, I'm here to challenge you to a duel."
Gasps and startled whispers rippled through the crowd. Even I couldn't hide my shock. Ray's eyes widened beside me, and my own heart lurched. He was really doing it—staking everything on this moment.
Hale's eyes narrowed, a wary respect flickering across her face. "You're serious?"
Thalamik nodded, never wavering. "If I win, I want to be back in the academy. I'm ready. I've faced my past. Please, allow me to return."
For a long, tense moment, Hale just studied him. Then, finally, she nodded. "Very well. But now I won't go easy on you. You'll earn your place here—nothing less. Better do well to prove it."
Anticipation electrified the air. Word of the duel spread instantly; soon the hall was packed, cadets pressing in from every side. Ray and I found ourselves clutching the railing, barely breathing. I clasped my hands together, silently willing Thalamik to succeed.
As the duel began, swords flashed and mana hummed.
Each strike was a testament to Thalamik's will; each parry showed how far he'd come. My heart pounded with every exchange. For the first time since his nightmare began, Thalamik's face was clear of doubt.
There was a quiet confidence to him now—a stillness at the center of the storm.
Instructor Hale fought with her usual brilliance—sharp, aggressive, utterly unyielding. She pressed him hard, looking for any sign of weakness.
But Thalamik was relentless, adapting with each movement, his mana controlled and unwavering.
Beside me, Ray's fists clenched. I could sense his hope—his fear that, if Thalamik failed, we'd lose him all over again.
But I couldn't look away.
In Thalamik's every motion, I saw the echoes of what he'd lost and the strength he was reclaiming. Somewhere in the clash, I thought I glimpsed the reason he could keep moving forward—a love that wouldn't let him fall apart, no matter how much it hurt. The will to keep moving forward. The Determination.
The duel built to its breaking point. For a heartbeat, everything slowed. I caught a glimpse of Thalamik's face—there was peace there, as if he were looking beyond the fight itself.
And then, in a flash, it was over. Thalamik disarmed Hale, her sword clattering across the floor.
The room froze. Every eye was on Instructor Hale as she straightened, a rare glimmer of admiration breaking through her stern mask.
"You've earned it," she said finally, voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "Welcome back."
A tidal wave of relief crashed through me.
I barely realized the cheers that erupted around us until Ray threw an arm around my shoulders, laughing in sheer joy.
Perhaps they were indeed the people who shared my dreams.
Thalamik looked over at us, chest heaving, and I saw it—a quiet pride, the beginnings of healing.
But then it happened.
It started as a whisper- a distant, haunted chorus that gnawed at the edges of my dreams.
Even before dawn, I sensed something shifting. Some nights, I'd wake and stare at the ceiling, heart racing for reasons I couldn't name. Mana was shifting violently. I felt a storm brewing, and that morning was different.
I went to see if Thalamik was there, but turns out he was gone.
His bed was untouched, the sheets still cold.
A chill prickled across my skin as I stepped outside, letting instinct guide me toward where the veil felt thinnest—where life and death might meet.
This wasn't like anything I have seen before.
I moved quietly through the empty corridors, the air thick with a strange, heavy silence. As I reached the edge of the academy grounds, a low mist crept across the grass, silvered by the dying moon. It pulled at me, inviting me onward.
It didn't take long to realize where I was going. The old cemetery—the resting place for those who never returned home.
The world held its breath as I reached the gates. Leaves rustled overhead, the night breeze carrying voices that weren't quite wind.
I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling my mana stir uneasily in response. What was happening?
Shadows stretched beneath the pale moon, gravestones rising from the mist like solemn sentinels.
I spotted Thalamik's silhouette—alone, standing before a row of ancient stones, his head bowed.
Something about the way he stood made my breath catch.
He looked… different.
Older, somehow, as if the weight of countless lives pressed down on his shoulders.
The air grew colder, sharp with anticipation. I watched as Thalamik knelt and placed his hand against a gravestone. The moment his fingers touched the weathered stone, the world seemed to shudder.
Dark tendrils of mana coiled from beneath his palm, spreading into the earth like veins of shadow. The graveyard flickered, and I saw them: ghostly shapes rising, one by one, from the ground. Their forms were battered and spectral, clad in the remnants of armor, faces etched with grief and fury.
There was a blurred and gibberish whisper I heard.
Perhaps these specters are talking telepathically to Thalamik.
Therefore, I cast a Telepathic Spell and eavesdropped on what they were saying.
The whispers became voices—distinct, desperate, hungry for vengeance.
"We fought… we resisted…"
"She took everything…"
"Let us fight again…"
Thalamik didn't flinch. He looked each spirit in the eye, as if he could see every scar and remember every name. One figure stepped forward, a tall soldier with a tattered banner trailing behind him.
"You have called to us, Thalamik," the soldier intoned, his voice resonating in the cold air. "We are warriors who stood against Zuatha Il Zikmel and fell unjustly. Grant us a purpose once more."
I understood, then, why Thalamik was chosen for this power.
He never turned away from pain—his or anyone else's.
I watched as he straightened, the lines of guilt and sorrow fading from his face, replaced by unyielding determination.
"Swear your allegiance to me," he commanded, his voice steady and strange, so much larger than one man should be.
The ghost knelt, spectral blade pressed to the earth, and behind him, dozens followed suit. The bond forming between them was tangible, a surge of mana that rippled through the night.
"Our blades are yours, our vengeance yours to command," they vowed, their loyalty fierce and absolute.
Thalamik nodded, pride and pain warring in his eyes. "I accept. Together, we will end Zuatha's cruelty and honor your sacrifice."
Mana blazed in his eyes, too bright to be natural.
Their forms dissolved, becoming streaks of violet mana that flowed into him, one after another, until the night felt empty and the world held its breath.
A new, ominous power radiated from Thalamik. I felt it—sensed the shift, as if he'd crossed some threshold.
Thalamik saw something in the air as if something had appeared.
Thalamik then abruptly spoke, "If that's how it is… I accept."
Hope and fear tangled inside me as I stepped away from the graveyard.
The true Thalamik harbored Vengeance. To kill Zuatha Il Zikmel.
He hates the person who makes the world unfair by using everyone else, not by killing elves indiscriminately.
Compared to what I have seen.
Thalamik's is still justified.
I believe the path he is walking on will not hinder our dreams of achieving peace.
But I can't say that without any doubt.
If he loses his way, he certainly will be the biggest threat to everyone.
***
But those two never seemed to let go of their ideals.
I realized it all when we fought against Paimon and Baal.
In those brutal encounters, their true nature shone unmistakably.
Watching Thalamik plunge himself into danger without hesitation, driven not by bloodlust but an unyielding need to protect innocent lives, stirred something profound within me.
He stood amidst chaos, calling forth endless undead soldiers, ignoring his own wounds to form an unwavering wall against darkness.
Thalamik was not merely powerful—he was resolute, a fierce embodiment of determination whose strength lay not just in his mana but in his unbreakable spirit.
Raymed, too, left me breathless.
Facing Baal head-on, he wielded his raw mana like a tempest, chaotic yet fiercely protective. Every movement he made carried the burden of countless lives, a desperate, relentless battle to buy time for others to escape.
I watched him push beyond his limits again and again, refusing to retreat even when his body screamed for mercy. He was the living embodiment of hope—an unyielding force against despair.
Standing there, channeling my magic from behind the battlefield, I finally understood clearly: Thalamik and Raymed weren't just warriors or soldiers.
They were protectors—guardians forged by necessity, not choice. But they would gladly own it as if it were their own. Shouldering the burdens of many people as if their wish is simply that.
These two had been fighting their whole lives to make others better.
This revelation ignited a fire within me, dissolving my remaining doubts.
I had journeyed with them for years now, from our earliest days at L'arc Academy. Back then, we'd all been hesitant, uncertain children thrust into war.
Memories of rigorous training under Instructor Hale, missions that stretched our endurance, and the laughter we shared despite our hardships flooded my mind. Our bond deepened slowly, solidifying through every mission, every victory, every painful loss.
A scene of Hale at the hospital.
I remember it well.
The transition to Vanguard Academy marked a new chapter for us.
Meeting Trish and Lulu had been a blessing.
Illias patiently taught me the subtleties of sealing magic, her quiet wisdom anchoring me when self-doubt threatened to consume me.
Director Diko's unwavering faith in us—even amidst his frequent anxieties—provided reassurance.
My friendships grew deeper with each trial.
I never thought I could achieve it if it weren't for the two of them.
The synergy between us blossomed naturally, forming the Mana Trinity—a perfect balance of hope, determination, and our dreams.
I felt as though I'd finally found my place, a vital part of something far greater than myself.
Yet, a bitter guilt gnawed at my heart.
Even now, I still hold back as Raymed and Thalamik face Focalors and Vepar, giving everything they have.
I had concealed my true power behind the gentle, saintly façade of a healer.
While they fought without reservation, I clung desperately to my charade.
I hated my cowardice.
But it wasn't mere selfishness—it stemmed from deep dread.
Fear gripped me each time I considered abandoning my carefully crafted persona.
Returning to the role of the Child of Miracles meant embracing a destructive past I wished to bury forever.
.
Can I really be saved?
No, was I supposed to be saved from the fate I hate so much?
.
Now, I stood quietly amidst the resting bodies of my comrades.
Trish, Lulu, Killiar, and the Besitulars lay asleep, their breathing calm and steady, just as I instructed.
They needed rest to recover faster. Seeing them like this, even for a moment, eased the storm inside me.
But that moment was brief.
In my hands was Thalamik's note.
His handwriting, familiar and crooked, held words that echoed in my heart like a knife twisted slowly. I could feel my fingers tremble as I read it again.
Beside me, Kourin stirred weakly. Her voice was soft, barely audible. "You saw nothing, right?"
I blinked, caught off guard.
My mind instantly replayed that image—Kourin leaning in, lips pressed gently to Raymed's. A desperate kiss. A prayer. A miracle.
I let out a small chuckle, teasing lightly. "Nothing at all... though your secret might not stay hidden forever."
Kourin sighed, cheeks flushing even in her weakened state. "Carmilla..."
"I am going," I said, my voice firmer than I expected.
"Carmilla…" she called again, gently, hesitantly.
I didn't turn back.
My feet moved on their own, carrying me about forty paces away.
Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by memories and fears I had yet to face.
.
No, perhaps I was indeed saved.
I am already saved by the two of them.
.
.
.
My hope and determination.
.
Then I stopped.
I received the letter from Thalamik.
+
Carmilla, I know we might not be the best of teammates. But if anyone is sure of survival, it will be you. Think of this sword and staff as mine and Raymed's present. I know you have a birthday soon, and I just found out when it was. My bad. So it was just a birthday present! Happy 23rd! If something bad happened to us, please continue our will. Our dreams. Doesn't matter the race—as long as they share our values of peace, help them reach it, our dear saint Carmilla.
P.S. You lied about a bunch of things initially. Sorry if we made you wary. Cheers.
Everything has been wonderful with you.
Raymed and Thalamik.
+
Anger surged inside me.
.
How dare they speak as though their lives were expendable?
.
My hands trembled as I reread the note, a lump forming painfully in my throat.
The very idea that they saw themselves as replaceable, easily sacrificed pawns filled me with rage and sorrow.
After saving me from feeling alone, they were gonna die and let go of their ideals like that?
How is that right?
Their survival was the cornerstone of my dream for lasting peace.
No, their survival....
That's what I want!
"Then you know what to do," whispered the familiar voice from the red gem Veuz had given me.
Its voice was smooth yet sharp, challenging the fear that held me captive.
I knew then that the seal Veuz placed on me was no curse—just a limiter.
Removing it meant accepting the very role I fled from: The Child of Miracles.
The title carried the weight of countless tragedies but symbolized the power to protect and save those I cherished.
I gripped the sword and staff, and without another thought, I drove it into my own stomach.
The pain was immediate, blinding, raw. I gasped, not from fear but from focus.
.
This was what Thalamik had done—to awaken something deeper, to bring his mana to the surface when no other path remained.
.
Blood welled at my side, and I welcomed it.
.
I let the mana inside me spiral, uncontrollably, as Raymed had done before.
.
The world around me began to ripple with violent energy.
The sky cracked above. Earth hissed beneath.
I directed it all—my surging, chaotic power—toward the red gem embedded within my body.
The limiter Veuz had given me.
The gem trembled. Cracks spidered across its surface.
But it wasn't breaking fast enough.
I gritted my teeth.
Was this really going to be it? Would I die here, having barely even stepped into the light of who I truly was?
No.
No.
Raymed.
Thalamik.
My hope and determination.
I won't let what you have fought for be in vain.
"HAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I screamed as I pumped my energy.
.
.
.
.
"I can't let their Dreams die!"
I screamed, my voice fierce, erupting above the cacophony of my mana.
"I will make them remember—they're also entitled to have Dreams!"
.
The gem shattered.
Power flooded me.
I felt it course through every nerve, every breath, every memory I thought I had left behind. It returned—spell weaving, healing, sealing—everything. My true self was no longer hidden.
With newfound courage, I unsealed the limiter.
Mana surged through my veins, familiar and overwhelming, as dormant power awakened within me.
The warmth of magic I'd long suppressed now burned brightly, energizing my very soul.
I focused intensely, recalling the techniques etched deep within my memory.
Spell Weaver surged to life within my core, my mana weaving gracefully into intricate patterns.
Carefully, I reshaped my powerful spell to buff people for destruction, "Round Aias," into a more potent form designed to counter the darkness we now faced.
.
A barrier was created for a long-lasting dream...
A single Dream of peace to the world....
A single Dream fought by protectors of this world.....
Fought for by Raymed, the arbiter of hope.....
Fought for by Thalamik, the arbiter of determination....
Fought for by Carmilla, the arbiter of dreams....
These ideals joined together and guided us all to the future that we want.
Be our line to victory!
"ROUND ASTRA!"
.
No more hiding. No more half-measures.
Because our dreams could only be realized if we moved forward together, united by hope and determination. Our shared past and future converged instantly, and I vowed silently that I would protect them both no matter the cost.
A glowing barrier erupted, shielding Raymed and Thalamik from Vepar's devastating attack.
I walked towards the two.
***
As the light of Round Astra glowed, I turned to see both Raymed and Thalamik stumble upright, disheveled, battered, but alive.
Relief flooded their faces as they realized what had just happened.
"You are truly our Saint, Carmilla!"
Both of them dashed toward me, arms open comically wide, like overgrown children desperate for a hug.
I smiled.
.
.
.
.
Absolutely not.
.
At the last second, I planted my palm squarely on Raymed's chest and slapped him away—he tumbled three meters with a shocked yelp.
I spun and met Thalamik's advance with a hard slap to his side, sending him rolling five meters through the dirt.
"Assh*l*s—! Are you two COMPLETE idiots? Why would you do a stunt like that? Am I just supposed to stand here and watch you two throw yourselves away like a pair of cheap shoes or something?!" I snapped, my words running together in a tangled shout of anger and sheer exasperation.
"Sorry, Carmilla," they said in perfect, sheepish unison, sitting up and rubbing their bruises.
I exhaled, feeling the tension bleed out of me.
I knelt, channeling mana through my hands. "Panacea."
A soft green glow enveloped us, healing wounds and restoring energy—my most powerful healing spell, can only be used once daily, but it restores vigor and refreshes everything the body needs—area of Effect of around 5 meters radius.
"My body feels rejuvenated as if I never fought!" Raymed said.
"My body feels that too!! I can use Alterity again!" Thalamik said.
As for me the scar on my stomach healed perfectly. "I can't do that more than once. And DON'T do that kind of stunt again." I muttered.
Raymed and Thalamik exchanged glances, and I saw the realization dawn in their eyes.
My barrier, my magic, my anger—all of it.
I wasn't holding back anymore.
I saw the spark of hope and trust ignite in both of them.
Thalamik straightened, offering a lopsided grin. "I suppose you have something to tell us," he said, his voice gentler than usual. "But it can wait."
Raymed nodded, smiling wider than I'd seen in weeks.
There was no judgment—only acceptance.
They're giving me time.
Trusting me to choose when to come clean.
That's what true friends do.
"I'm trusting you to watch our backs as always, Carmilla!" Raymed said, his voice ringing with confidence.
I couldn't help but smile. "Then… are we doing this again?"
"Hell yeah!" Thalamik laughed, slamming his fist into his palm.
Without another word, Thalamik anchored his imperfect Alterity—"Unlimited Mana Pool."
Raymed's Split Flow technique activated, creating channels for energy to surge between us.
I invoked Spell Conversion, weaving our distinct mana signatures into a flawless harmony.
Unlike before, where our trinity comprised Raymed using it all, while I healed him, and Thalamik transferred my healing spells.
Raymed was the user, Thalamik was the controller, and I was the supplier.
Now it's different.
We pressed our fists together, a silent vow.
Hope. Determination. Dreams.
"Unlimited Undead," Thalamik intoned.
"Split Flow," Raymed echoed.
"Spell Conversion," I breathed, feeling our souls link as one.
We closed our eyes, minds perfectly synchronized.
Raymed became the controller, Thalamik the supplier, and I was the user.
But I use it to enhance everyone's capabilities and protect them.
A never-ending chain loop of mana cycling as we make our way to defeating Vepar.
The Demon Lord Envoy's unbelievable mana pool.
Infinity vs Infinity.
Let's see who wins.
.
Humanity's Greatest Combi.
Together, in perfect unity, we unleashed our power upon the battlefield:
We screamed in Unison.
"UNLIMITED FLOW CONVERSION!"
Hope, Determination, and Dreams—united, unwavering—stood ready to face the storm.