"It was a trap."

  Drelan's words cut through the forest at the same instant his sword did.

  Steel flashed. A Dranox fell apart mid-charge, its momentum carrying its body forward even as its life was already gone.

  "There are far more than we estimated."

  The trees answered him.

  More shapes burst from the undergrowth—no longer scattered strays, no longer hesitant. These Dranox moved with purpose. They flanked instead of rushing. They attacked in pairs. Their eyes burned brighter, their movements sharper.

  D+ rank.

  "Counting's useless now," Mirielle growled, her blade never still. "We drop everything that breathes."

  The clearing descended into chaos.

  Snarls tore through the air as steel screamed in reply. The ground shook beneath clawed feet. Dirt exploded where blades struck, blood darkening the roots of trees.

  Behind the carriage, Althea still held me close. But her grip was changing.

  Her fingers trembled. Her breath hitched every time Drelan stumbled, every time Mirielle was forced to retreat a step instead of advance.

  She was afraid. So was I.

  Drelan fought like a man holding back a flood.

  Every swing carried weight. Every step was measured. His blade moved with practiced precision—but his breathing had grown harsh, uneven. Sweat streaked his brow. His shoulders sagged between strikes, rising only through force of will.

  Storms burn out. And storms make mistakes.

  It happened in a blink.

  One Dranox lunged head-on—only to twist at the last second. Another burst from the side, low and fast.

  Too fast.

  Claws tore across Drelan's shoulder in a diagonal slash.

  "ARGH—!"

  Blood arced through the air as he spun away, the impact knocking him off balance. His sword dragged against the ground as he dropped to one knee, teeth clenched, one hand gripping the wound.

  "Dad!" "Honey!"

  Mirielle and Althea's voices broke at once.

  Mirielle's eyes snapped wide. Something in her shattered.

  "No—" she snarled. "You don't get to touch him."

  Mana erupted from her body.

  Not refined. Not controlled.

  Raw.

  Her blade flared, heat distorting the air around it as she charged straight through the pack.

  The first Dranox barely had time to scream. Her sword cleaved through its skull, splitting it cleanly as if bone were nothing more than brittle glass. She didn't slow. She didn't stop.

  Another lunged from her blind side.

  Mirielle kicked off its snout, flipping over its body in one fluid motion—and drove her blade straight down through its spine before her feet touched the ground again.

  She landed hard in front of Drelan, chest heaving, arms shaking from the strain.

  "Can you stand?" she gasped, blade raised again.

  "Behind you!" Drelan shouted.

  The warning came a fraction too late.

  A Dranox burst from the mist, full speed, muscles coiled tight with killing intent. Its claws gouged trenches into the earth as it lunged, fangs gleaming.

  Drelan forced himself upright. Pain screamed through his shoulder—but he ignored it. With a roar torn from his chest, he drove forward, sword first.

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  CLANG—!

  Steel met bone. Blood sprayed as the creature shrieked and skidded backward, collapsing in a twitching heap. But the cost was visible now.

  Mirielle dropped to one knee, her sword flickering as mana sputtered around the blade.

  "Huff… huff…" Her breath came shallow. "I'm… drained…"

  Drelan staggered beside her, planting his sword tip into the dirt just to remain standing. His voice trembled—not with fear, but with exhaustion.

  "Damn it…" he muttered. "This is on me. I should've known. I should've seen the signs…"

  Mirielle forced herself back to her feet, sword trembling in her grip.

  "No," she said, breath ragged but voice stubborn. "It's not your fault."

  Blood streaked Mirielle's cheek, drying in a dark line beneath her eye. One arm pressed hard against her side, fingers slick and shaking, trying to keep something vital inside. Her legs trembled beneath her, but she still forced herself upright.

  Her sword rose.

  Barely.

  "I'm not…" Her breath hitched. "…done yet."

  The forest answered her defiance with sound. Low. Wet. Patient.

  Growls rolled out from between the trees—dozens of them, overlapping, crawling along the ground like something alive. Shapes stepped forward. Then more. Yellow eyes blinked open in the mist. Jaws parted, strings of saliva dripping to the earth.

  They were surrounded. Drelan's gaze swept the clearing once—then stilled.

  "…Tch," he muttered, voice hollow. "Surrounded."

  Mirielle's sword wavered.

  Her breath came apart in short, broken pulls. Her knees buckled, strength abandoning her all at once. She caught herself before she fell, one hand digging into the dirt, the other still clinging to her blade.

  The sword shook. She tried to lift it again. It didn't move.

  The ring closed tighter—black shapes pressing in, slow and deliberate, like carrion waiting for a body to stop breathing. One Dranox stepped ahead of the others. Lean. Scarred. Foam clung to its jaws as it lowered its head, muscles coiling.

  Mirielle exhaled. "…Is this how it ends?"

  It wasn't a whisper. It wasn't a plea.

  It was the quiet acceptance of someone who had already given everything she had.

  Drelan crouched beside her, his weight slumping heavily. Blood ran freely from his shoulder now, soaking his sleeve, dripping to the ground in a steady rhythm. His sword arm trembled as he planted the blade for balance.

  His eyes were half-lidded. He didn't see the Dranox move. It leapt. A blur of muscle and claws tore through the air, its snarl ripping the silence apart.

  Mirielle turned too slowly. Drelan didn't turn at all. There was no mana left. No strength. No time. Only the end.

  "Aries—NO!"

  Althea's cry shattered, raw and breaking—but the boy was already gone from her arms.

  Silence fractured. The air collapsed inward—like something had suddenly vanished, pulled from reality.

  BOOM.

  Light detonated. The shockwave ripped across the clearing like divine thunder. The ground buckled. Trees bent backward under the force. Leaves ignited midair, burning to ash before they could fall.

  The Dranox never landed. It was launched—its body hurled backward like a discarded thing, twisting violently before slamming into a tree with a crack that split bark and wood alike.

  It didn't move again. Where it had been—

  I stood. Small. Chest heaving, breath ragged.

  My arm was outstretched. And above my palm—

  Light.

  A sphere of blinding brilliance hovered inches from my skin, white-hot and humming, not merely glowing but pressing—as if gravity itself had been bound into a single, furious point. The air around it warped, vision bending.

  It wasn't a spell. It wasn't a technique. It was a star—newborn and unstable.

  The earth beneath my feet was scorched in a perfect circle, stone cracked, soil fused to glass. Even the Dranox recoiled now, growls faltering, bodies shifting back instinctively.

  Fear. Primal.

  The light cast long, violent shadows behind me.

  And in those shadows stood my family—stunned, untouched, alive.

  Father's lips parted, but no sound came out at first. His eyes stayed fixed on me, as if looking too closely might shatter whatever he was seeing.

  "…Aries?"

  Mother's hand rose to her mouth. She didn't realize she'd done it until her fingers brushed her lips. Her eyes shimmered, caught somewhere between disbelief and fear.

  "That's…" Her voice trembled. "That's our Aries…?"

  Mirielle's sword slipped from her fingers and hit the ground with a dull clang.

  She didn't blink.

  She just stared—no, searched—trying to align the glowing figure standing in front of her with the lazy, half-asleep boy she'd mocked for years.

  "…He mastered the Flow?" she whispered. "Already…?"

  My breathing was a mess.

  Every inhale scraped like broken glass inside my lungs. Every exhale shuddered out through clenched teeth. My chest burned, nerves screaming as if they'd been flayed open.

  More than half my mana was gone.

  The sphere I'd formed—that thing—had taken everything. Focus. Control. Energy. Even now, I could feel its residue lingering, scorching through my veins like molten wire.

  "Tch…" I muttered. "I'm not built for this. Not yet."

  A faint pulse flickered at my fingertips. Not bright. Not grand.

  Internal mana—refined beyond visibility. Broken down into particles so small they defied the eye. Each fragment a grain of light. Condensed. Compressed. Ignited.

  From heat, illumination is born. From pressure, destruction. From convergence—

  A star.

  My knees wobbled as I staggered forward one step.

  I don't know spells. I don't have technique. I can't even control the elements yet.

  But I have this. Heat. Force. Raw energy shaped by intent.

  I lifted my head. Across the clearing, the Dranox still stood. More had arrived.

  Shadows slipped from the trees, bodies stacking behind bodies, eyes glowing red now—locked onto us with renewed hunger. Their numbers were growing again.

  Mirielle was injured. Drelan was bleeding. Althea trembled behind me.

  They weren't my family. Not truly. But Aries's blood ran through this body. Their son's.

  Maybe one day, I'd find a way back to Earth. But I'd be damned if I let them die while I was still breathing.

  I raised both hands. Two smaller spheres ignited—one in each palm.

  Not massive. Not blinding. Focused.

  Compact stars of searing heat and spiraling force hovered just above my skin, threads of light coiling around my wrists like burning chains. The air warped faintly around them, humming with restrained violence.

  The Dranox growled in unison. Claws dug into dirt. Muscles coiled. Bodies lowered.

  They were about to charge. So was I.

  On one side—a swarm of monsters, born to destroy. On the other—a single boy, standing and defending in front of them he refused to lose.