Did I Fight Kal'tsit? Seriously?

His fingers twitched, as though he wanted to touch something, but they ultimately stopped in midair. With a soft sigh, he gently withdrew them.

A move once made could not be regretted.

He did not think it had been a wrong choice. He would take responsibility for what he had done.

More importantly, he needed to know the root cause of the changes in Lamaline's attitude and emotions.

He just did not know what the Banshees outside would make of the situation. They had not seen the mistress of their Royal Court for an entire day and night. No matter how thick-skinned he was, there was no way he could explain that.

Just as his thoughts began to drift and his mind gradually grew hazy, those ruby-bright eyes suddenly cracked open.

The Banshee Queen's gaze held a trace of confusion. A faint stab of pain at the corner of her eye tugged lightly at the surrounding muscles. Her brows drew together slightly, and the corners of her lips unconsciously turned down, revealing an unusually vulnerable expression that almost invited pity.

As if she had temporarily forgotten how to use Incantation, Lamaline instinctively raised a trembling hand and felt around beside her for something. Her singing voice, always as beautiful as heavenly music, was now tinged with hoarseness as she softly called, "Gerald?"

"I'm here." The Pegasus paused, turning his gaze back to the person beside him. "You need proper rest. Let's go back to your old room. Do you remember how to use Incantation?"

"I remember."

Gerald lifted himself from the bed and bent down slightly, wrapping his arms securely around Lamaline. One arm slipped beneath her back and shoulders, while the other supported the backs of her knees. He effortlessly lifted her from the soft bed. The Banshee's head rested against his chest, her long hair cascading through the crook of his arm like flowing water.

He stood up, walked to the bedside, and planted his feet on the floor.

This was a world entirely different from the bed. The vitality granted by Incantation was cut off, and his strength vanished for a moment—then, in the next instant, was replenished by the cloth over his shoulder.

He steadied himself and stepped forward.

"Gerald?"

"I'm right here." His steps slowed again for an instant as he looked toward the Banshee's Bone Pen in the distance. "Do you need me to bring your Bone Pen over?"

Lamaline shook her head almost imperceptibly. Her still-trembling hand traced the shape of an Incantation, and the closed wall opened once more.

"I only need you by my side."

She murmured softly.

You Decorated Someone Else's Dream

A deep exhaustion suddenly surged up from the depths of his mind.

When he woke from the dream again, an endless starry sky stretched above him. He had once been used to this sight, but now it filled him with a long-lost sense of nostalgia. At the very least, it was better than what had just truly happened.

But now was not the time to return to reality.

Gerald merely glanced at the wristwatch he had borrowed from the prison guard before closing his eyes again.

He could more or less draw a conclusion about the difference in the flow of time here and outside. A full day and night had passed in the past, while only four hours had passed in reality—a ratio of six to one.

The key was whether sleeping with the Banshee Queen counted as part of [Defeat/Important Story Progression], causing time to pass.

Thus, when his consciousness returned to the dream, the first thing he did was search for Lamaline. Good. She was sleeping quietly beside him, and all her conditions remained unchanged from when he had left.

His dream-self had slept for a while as well, and that was how he had returned to reality. Thinking back on it, killing himself with his sword earlier had not been particularly well thought out... But from that angle, if this place was reality, why had his earlier suicide triggered a rewind?

No matter what, the current situation finally settled the heavy stone in his heart a little.

What he had feared most was promising to stay a little longer, only to jump straight to thirty years later the very next moment.

Smack.

Gerald felt his arm suddenly seized tightly. Lamaline somehow found a burst of tremendous strength and pulled him back beneath the covers.

The room had been built like an ordinary house, so the bed was rather small. Even lying side by side made it feel as if they might fall off the edge at any moment, so he could only obediently let Lamaline hold him in her arms.

"If you're awake, you should be getting up." Gerald's first thought was of the formal clothes he had just rescued from the pile of Thorns. Fortunately, he had not put them on earlier. "We still haven't cleaned up the room outside."

"It's fine. It's already too late." Having rested fully, Lamaline's voice had returned to normal. "I want to enjoy this peace for a little longer."

For the first time in a long while, the Banshee Queen felt peace.

The noise and screaming had finally vanished from her mind. This brief tranquility was so comfortable that she even had a dream.

A dream she knew very well.

She dreamed of memories from her childhood. The wind carried her through Kazdel's streets, past the ever-burning furnaces, sheltered her from the rain beneath a sky blanketed in dark clouds, and let her see those who had passed away in her memories.

Her mother wore a smile, her sisters gathered around her, and they sang together.

She had been the finest among Banshees from birth. She was destined to become the mistress of the Royal Court, the leader who would guide the Banshees toward prosperity.

She had thought this peace would last forever, until Kazdel's walls were destroyed by the artillery fire of landships.

Banshees had once been among Kazdel's most beloved races. They were born with the most beautiful singing voices. Even when they merely practiced their voices each day, Sarkaz would still be drawn in by their songs.

Banshees were also the sharpest swords on the battlefield. Words flowed beneath their pens, and Elegies were played for their enemies.

But no matter how sharp a sword was, once it went to war and fought until the end, its only fate was to break.

The Bloodfiends' vitality had become infamous throughout this land. There was only one Shapeshifter, yet it was everywhere and could not die. The Carrion Eaters were walls of flesh and blood, the unbreakable shields of the Sarkaz. Liches controlled space; they would not die because of battle, only because of knowledge.

What about the Banshees?

They offered Elegies for soldiers who died in battle, but aside from themselves, who could offer an Elegy for the Banshees?

Not even Theresa could do it. Theresa's eyes were fixed on places farther away, more unreachable. No matter how close they were, it could not change the conflict in their beliefs. But Lamaline could not possibly blame a friend who bore the responsibility of the entire Sarkaz race on her shoulders.

Therefore, there was no one.

Not a single person.

Other than herself.

She would remain on the battlefield until the final moment, laying every relative and friend to rest, until the last Elegy sounded in her throat and she offered herself a final song that symbolized death.

So, after the Liches and Theresa turned Kazdel into a trap filled with death, after her former home and memories vanished together within immense Originium Arts—

On the night before that final battle, she had dreamed as well.

The exact same dream as now.

Perhaps she had wanted to carve every last detail of the city into the depths of her memory, so that she could bring them out to mourn much later.

Or perhaps she subconsciously understood that tomorrow might be the last day of her life. Still reluctant to let go of parts of the past, she wanted to adorn her dream in advance like a doll, so that before the final montage of her life came, she would still have time to fill in every detail.

But when news of victory spread to every corner of the battlefield, when that unfamiliar figure arrived atop the city walls, that dream of hers seemed to have become nothing more than a setup for a rise after a fall. It soon sank into the depths of her memory, never to be found again.

Then why had this familiar dream appeared before her now, at this moment?

She did not know.

But this dream had clearly changed somewhat.

Her mother's smile remained. Her face had once been frozen at the moment before she went to war, but now there were a few more wrinkles upon it—it seemed she had not chosen to preserve her appearance. That suited her personality perfectly.

Her sisters laughed and urged her on, pushing her into Kazdel's underground. Flowers lined the entire path, and familiar faces appeared one after another. It was truly lively.

The wind led her onward, step by step, guiding her past the dark clouds overhead and toward the light.

The wind cherished her, embraced her, and remained by her side.

The wind she could not attain in her youth, the wind she could not keep, was now beside her, helping guide her way.

She felt content.

Her body felt lighter than it had in a long time. She no longer needed to worry about an uncertain tomorrow. Everything she had was right here.

Her ever-wise mother would teach her how to become the Banshee Queen step by step. Her sisters would help her chase away the bad people who came looking for trouble. The wind would sing her a lullaby when she slept. She would have a child. She had thought of it when she was still young, and after reaching River Valley, she became even more certain: her child would be named "Aifaniya."

She walked slowly.

Until she reached the edge of the dream.

Even knowing that this was only a dream, that she would soon wake and face reality again, she felt no reluctance.

She had seen another beautiful future, a future with her family and friends.

Now, she should build a future for the Banshees and for her beloved—a future belonging to those who remained.

Before that.

Let her enjoy this deep sleep in his embrace one more time.

The First Step Toward Conquering Gravity

Life had to go on.

For Lamaline, life did not merely have to go on. She also had to figure out how to explain everything that had happened in the palace to her sisters in a tactful way that would not cause any "misunderstandings," while hoping the younger Banshees would not learn so soon what had happened to her.

But she soon had no need to worry about that.

"I have bad news."

The ears atop Gerald's head twitched as his hands continued calmly combing the hair of the person before him.

"Mmm."

His only response was a few soft hums.

Lamaline seemed particularly fond of resting her head against his chest. Although arranging her hair required nothing more than an Incantation, she merely lied that all her Originium Arts had been exhausted when she opened the door earlier, having no intention of letting him know these little thoughts of hers.

It was clear that the Banshee Queen had pitifully little experience interacting with ordinary people. After all, not much time had passed since the war ended.

Gerald shifted slightly and used his tail to summon the wind, catching several pieces of jewelry left scattered across the "battlefield" and placing them back on the Banshee Queen. The silver mane on the Pegasus's tail looked much more lustrous than before.

"There are a lot of people outside. They're the same group that watched us duel earlier."

Clang.

Lamaline instinctively tried to stand, only for her calf to strike the dressing table. Several items fell toward the floor, then were slowly caught by the wind.

"The good news is that I disguised things for you." Gerald steadied Lamaline so she would not panic. "I studied the Thorns in the Courtyard. I can't actively control them, but I'm no longer limited to using the wind to redirect them like before."

"They'll only see some scattered Thorns, along with a few deliberately made signs of battle. As for some of the details, I also... What's wrong, Lamaline?"

Why did the Banshee Queen in front of him seem to be trembling even harder?

"Please, Lamaline, our sister. How did you turn things into this?!"

After Gerald and Lamaline put their formal clothes back on and emerged from the hidden room, they were met with a furious accusation from the leading Banshee. "We understand the efforts you have made to lead us out of suffering, but if you wished to find someone to vent your frustrations on, you could have had us hunt outside for you. There was no need to treat our only ally with such disrespect."

"I think there's been a misunderstanding."

Gerald spoke up, taking the attack for the anxious Banshee Queen behind him. Although an outsider like him had no standing to say such things in this situation, he could not let Lamaline shoulder blame that was never hers to bear. "The mistress of the Royal Court has been personally taking care of me all this time. Calling it disrespect seems a little..."

His words were interrupted. Someone was gently pinching the hem of his clothes with Incantation, telling him not to continue.

Sure enough, after hearing this remark that only added fuel to the fire, the leading Banshee—the elderly woman who had protected the younger Banshees behind her on the day of the duel—nearly collapsed from rage.

And she really did faint.

She fainted most unrestfully, the wrinkles on her face and her tightly furrowed brows voicing all the words she had yet to say.

Behind her, a noticeably more lively Banshee gently supported the leading Banshee's body and awkwardly explained to Gerald, "Well, um, she was worried about you too. If we had only seen the Thorns activated, everyone would have thought you were fighting Lamaline."

"But then we quickly realized that the [Procreation] Incantation had been activated."

Curiosity was obvious in that Banshee's eyes. Like the leading Banshee, every Banshee capable of reaching the depths of the Courtyard was skilled at breaking the Incantations along the way. They were also the last remaining core force from the war.

They should have served as the final trump card, stepping onto the front lines with General Theresis and opening a path with their bodies to assassinate that Feline general.

Yet before they could act, news of victory had arrived from the front.

Was Gerald strong? She found it difficult to say. If he were compared solely to the Six Heroes, this Pegasus could probably only be said to be evenly matched with them in the earlier stages. After all, his lack of endurance had been obvious during his duel with Lamaline.

But the problem was that on the battlefield, he was simply strong from every angle! Casters and artillery could not even touch the corner of his clothes. Saturation bombardments were blocked by his wind. Against fodder weaker than him, it was utter domination. Someone like this, born in an age of war, could change the course of an entire battlefield in an instant no matter which side he joined.

If he had been around at the beginning of the war, landship artillery might only have been able to catch his shadow. After all, the man could fly.

How strange. Why had someone like him not been firmly tied down by the interests offered by other nations, only to come instead to Kazdel, a place with nothing at all?

"What does that mean... Never mind, please don't explain."

Gerald did not notice that the Banshee in front of him had started drifting off. The moment he heard the words [Procreation], he was already struggling to keep it together.

But Lamaline's entire face had begun to flush an unnatural red. If this continued, he was genuinely worried something bad might happen. He needed to leave this fearless Banshee before him with at least a sliver of hope.

"Ah, it's like this. There are almost no males among Banshees, so if we want children, we can only look for someone outside."

The lively Banshee had absolutely no intention of understanding his goodwill. She simply shook her head and answered seriously instead. "But then the bloodline cannot be guaranteed, so we use the Procreation Incantation. Banshees traveling away from the group also prepare this Incantation in advance, then see whether they can find someone they fancy."