Palace Chamber
Virgil stormed into the grand chamber, a stack of papers clutched in his hands, his face lined with urgency. "Master Aurelius! Countless portals have emerged all across Westoria! It's exactly as you predicted—the Blights are waging war against humanity! We're still gathering intel on their presence in other nations, but—"
Gabriel lifted a hand, silencing him. "Get to the point. You wouldn't barge in just to tell me something I'd learn soon enough."
Virgil exhaled sharply. "They're attacking the capital. Novara is in ruins—it looks like a wasteland. It all happened in an instant." He dropped the documents onto Gabriel's desk. "Sir, we need to deploy the Starborn."
Gabriel sighed, rising from his seat. "They disbanded."
Virgil blinked. "They… did?"
"Today, in fact. Their decision. They wished to operate independently. Seeing as they survived the Blight Dimension and emerged stronger, I had no reason to stop them." Gabriel turned, his gaze cold. "Deploy The White Star. He was last seen in the capital. A simple communication spell should reach him."
Capital City of Westoria – Novara
"Yes? Got it. I'm already here."
Ren tightened his grip on his dagger, standing amidst the burning ruins of Novara. The city was overrun—Blights swarmed the streets like an unrelenting tide. He exhaled, his breath forming frost in the air. "Let's see how much I've improved."
The creatures charged. Ren surged forward, his dagger slicing through the first wave with precision. He leapt, flipping midair as a wave of frost erupted beneath him, freezing the monsters in place. Landing lightly, he wasted no time—his blade flashed, cleaving through beasts that once took his full strength to battle one-on-one.
A guttural roar echoed from deeper within the horde.
"Fall, human."
Ren's gaze snapped to the source—a towering figure, at least three stories tall. An orc. A rare sight. Could it even be classified as a Blight?
Before he could react, a massive weight crashed onto his back, slamming him into the stone street below. Dust and debris shot into the air. Ren coughed, wiping the blood from his nose, and grinned.
His dagger pulsed, shifting—growing—until a pure white sword gleamed in his grasp, its frost shimmering under the dim light. The air around him thickened with cold.
"You can speak? Our language, too?" Ren rose to his feet, unbothered by the swarm closing in behind him. "It won't help you. The closer you get, the slower you become. My presence alone is enough to freeze the air around me."
The Blights lunged, but they moved sluggishly—too slow to matter. Ren cut through them with terrifying efficiency, their bodies shattering like brittle glass. Yet the orc stood still, watching, waiting.
Ren narrowed his eyes. Why isn't it attacking?
"This is taking too long." He raised his sword, an immense pressure gathering at its tip. A glacial meteor formed in an instant, suspended in the sky. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it crashing down. Ice swallowed the battlefield whole, a frozen wasteland replacing the chaos.
"Shatter."
The word was law. The ice fractured, sending lethal shards through the horde. In a single instant, the battlefield was silent.
Ren turned, his breath steady.
A deep chuckle rumbled through the ruined streets.
"Are you finished?"
The orc stepped forward, its massive weapon scraping against the stone. It grinned, unfazed. "Good. Now it's our turn to fight."
Ren darted back as the orc's weapon came crashing down, splitting the stone beneath his feet. He barely managed to sidestep, ice forming at his heels as he skated across the battlefield. With a flick of his sword, jagged spears of ice erupted from the ground, aiming to pierce the massive creature's chest.
The orc snarled and swung its weapon, shattering the ice like fragile glass. It was fast—faster than something its size had any right to be. Ren barely had time to react before the monster lunged again, forcing him to weave between crumbling buildings.
I need to slow it down.
Ren pressed his hand against the ground. Ice crawled outward in an intricate pattern, covering the battlefield in a treacherous frost. The orc's footing faltered for a brief second, and Ren took the chance—he leapt high, his sword glinting with frost, and aimed for its neck.
A massive hand snatched him midair.
The force of the grip knocked the air from his lungs. The orc grinned, squeezing tighter. Ren gasped, feeling his ribs strain under the pressure. With the last of his strength, he summoned a surge of ice, freezing the orc's entire arm solid. The beast snarled, but before it could react, Ren shattered the frozen limb with a sharp kick, sending himself tumbling to the ground.
He coughed, gripping his side. His vision blurred. His mana was draining too fast.
Damn… I wish I had help.
The thought hit harder than he expected.
Ren exhaled, his breath shaky. He was the one who had suggested the Starborn disband. He was the one who wanted to go solo.
A memory surfaced—
Grand Hall—Starborn's Final Meeting
"We should disband Starborn."
Ren's voice cut through the room, sharp and deliberate.
Silence. Then—
"What? Are you crazy?" Lyra's chair scraped against the marble floor as she shot up, tying her hair up messily. "This has to be a joke, right? We've worked together for so long. Why would we just throw that away? We're like family."
"Hardly," Arthur muttered.
"Can it," Lyra snapped, sighing as she sat back down.
Ren crossed his arms. "I want to work alone. I can't do that while being part of Starborn and under their authority. They wouldn't let me leave on my own. This is the best move for all of us—to see what we're capable of without each other."
"No. I refuse." Lyra folded her arms. "Aren't we friends? Besides, I don't want to work alone. I'm a tactician. I don't do well on my own." She exhaled sharply. "So can we move on?"
"He's right." Arthur leaned back in his chair. "I'd rather be on my own."
"Really…?" Elowen glanced at him, brows furrowed.
"We're not friends. We just work together." Ren's voice was cold, matter-of-fact. "I don't know why you're surprised. I only do things that benefit me."
Lyra's confidence wavered. "What?" She forced a laugh, as if waiting for him to take it back. "Ren… you can't be serious."
Ren raised a brow. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"But I… we—" Lyra's voice faltered.
"You'll get over it."
Silence stretched between them. Then—
"…Fine. I'll agree." Lyra dropped her gaze.
"I don't want to disband," Elowen murmured. "I'm a healer. I can't work on my own."
"I'll agree…" Milo said reluctantly.
"Same here," Rafael added, raising a hand.
Reid nodded.
Ren turned to Elowen. "You're a good healer. You'll find someone to work with. There are plenty of high-level teams."
He exhaled. "I suppose Rin and Sosuke should've had a say in this, but they're not here. Doesn't matter, I doubt their answer would change anything."
Lyra scoffed. "Shouldn't you know them well enough to guess? Even I do, and I haven't known them as long as you." She shook her head. "Maybe you're not lying. Maybe you really only cared about yourself this whole time." Her voice was tight with frustration. "At least Arthur was honest from the start."
Ren didn't waver. "It was nice having allies, but none of you could help me grow. Sometimes, the best choices are the hardest to make."
Reid glanced at Lyra, noticing the way her shoulders tensed. He stood, walked over, and slung an arm around her. "Don't worry, sis. We can work together now. More time for Mom, too." He caught the slight sheen in her eyes and his expression darkened.
"Then we're done here," Arthur said, pushing his chair back. "I'll report to Gabriel myself."
"I'll go with you," Ren added. He glanced around the room one last time, then exhaled. "It was a decent run. Almost anticlimactic."
The room was empty except for Lyra and Reid.
"You okay?" Reid asked, concern laced in his voice.
"No! I'm not." Lyra buried her face in her palms. "To think I actually liked that jerk." Her voice cracked. "I feel like I wasted my time trying to get closer to him. It was all for nothing."
Reid nudged her with his elbow. "It's not your fault. No one knew." His voice softened. "Besides, he's an ass. Doesn't deserve your time and energy."
"But he can be kind. I've seen it." Lyra exhaled sharply. "I just don't know how much of what he said was real."
Reid shrugged. "Then you'll just have to wait and find out. If he really meant it, we'll never see him again."
Lyra scoffed. "Stupid White Star. When did he get so full of himself?" She muttered under her breath.
Reid hesitated. "You sure you'll be alright? I can stay."
Lyra punched his shoulder.
"Ow! That actually hurt—" Reid rubbed the spot, sighing. "Fine. Got it." He pushed himself up and walked toward the door. "I'll see you later."
The door clicked shut.
Lyra sat in silence, shoulders trembling. She gritted her teeth. He could've said anything else. Anything other than implying I was worthless to him. A sharp inhale, a shaky exhale.
"He used to be so cool." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Shit."
Outside, Reid leaned against the hallway wall, hands stuffed in his pockets. He exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowing.
"…Liar."