She wanted to try again.
Just this once.
This is the last time, filled with hope.
She took a deep breath, faced the moonlight, and cast her final spell.
[Fourth-Tier Magic: The Path of Summoned Prayer]
The blazing flames rose with terrifying force, spiraling upwards into the deep night sky along the high-temperature air currents.
For a moment, it was as if daylight had descended upon this grassland.
The night was torn apart by a path of light, and the trail of fire gradually spread in all directions.
only……
One second, two seconds.
No sound was heard, and no one arrived.
As if it were destiny, so-called hope was nothing but an illusion.
Lia squatted helplessly by the door, gazing at the moonlight in the sky.
She shouldn't have expected any of this in the first place.
The light on the gloves completely dimmed, and the fading flames in the sky became the final despair.
"...Let's go back."
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
"sorry."
The flames that had been extinguished reignited in the sky, leaping out like a lion awakening from its slumber.
It dispelled the eerie silence that surrounded them.
Flames rose up from all directions, accompanied by heavy crackling sounds like thunder.
A deep, muffled sound came from behind Lia.
Lia was stunned.
She didn't want to believe it because she couldn't be sure.
I'm afraid that looking back will only reveal that it was all an illusion.
But in the end, she couldn't help but turn her head away.
What came into her view was that crimson armor.
Beneath the crimson light of day stood a suit of armor engulfed in intense flames.
The flickering flames between the armor plates resembled the scales of a fire dragon.
But this time, it brought not oppression, but a sense of majesty and tranquility.
Crimson flames enveloped every piece of the shattered armor, sinking into the floating grassland.
Only after all the armor fell away did the man in the black trench coat appear before her.
The same face as back then, the same black trench coat that has never changed.
The only thing that changed was his expression.
With pain and unease.
Bearing the guilt of being unable to repay all of this.
However, there should have been countless things to say, which I should have poured out to him in one breath when I saw him.
My throat was blocked.
My eyes also got wet.
My eyes can no longer see anything clearly, and can no longer hold anyone.
Two wet streaks slid down his face, fell to the ground, and soaked the dust.
They'd rather stay like this than bow their heads.
He opened his mouth and finally uttered the first sound he made after seeing him.
But it was heart-wrenching crying and a desperate cry of relief from the pain.
The swaying green grass offered a peaceful comfort to all of this.
The sobs, tinged with unease, echoed in my ears.
It was both a real opening and a dreamlike closing.
"I'm late."
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