Erik and Leena regrouped with Yosul near the fallen giant, dust and heat still lingering in the air from the earlier battle.
"Master! You okay?" Yosul rushed to Kaizer's side.
Kaizer gave a short nod. "Yes, Vice-Captain. I'm alright."
"Good," Yosul muttered, exhaling. He glanced over Kaizer's shoulder as Erik and Leena approached. "Hey—you two alright?"
Both nodded silently.
Yosul turned, scanning the area. "Everyone's accounted for, right?"
Once the team gathered around him, he spoke clearly. "Let's head back to the horses. We'll set up camp there for the night and move out in the morning."
No one objected. The battle had drained them all.
Kaizer led the way, carrying Veinar on his back. The mage had overextended himself keeping the gateway open and had collapsed the moment the others returned. His mana was completely drained.
The rest followed in quiet formation, Erik and Yosul falling behind the group by a few paces.
"So," Erik began, his voice low, "what are we gonna do about the giant?"
"Oh, the spell will fade in a few hours," Yosul replied casually. "It shouldn't be a problem."
"And tomorrow?"
"My guess is it won't attack. Even if it does, we've got Master with us. It won't be anything we can't handle."
Erik frowned. "He was hurt pretty bad."
"Really?" Yosul blinked.
"Yeah. Hole clean through his chest. But… he healed like it was nothing. What's his secret?"
Yosul gave a small sigh. "You know he's one of the legends, right?"
"Yeah."
"And how long's it been since the Great Cataclysm?"
"About six hundred years?"
Yosul raised a brow, eyes locked on Erik.
It took a few seconds for the realization to settle.
"…He's immortal?" Erik said.
Yosul nodded. "That's his blessing—immortality."
Erik exhaled. "Huh. That explains a lot." He reached into his pouch and pulled out the crescent-shaped crystal. "Anyway, here's the relic."
Yosul took it carefully. "Thanks."
"So… what happened inside the gateway?" he asked. "Leena came out looking like she'd bitten into a nightmare."
Erik scratched the back of his neck. "There was a monster inside."
Yosul raised a brow. "A monster?"
"It could show dreams. I think… it could see our memories."
Yosul's gaze drifted forward toward Leena.
"How much do you know about her?" Erik asked.
"Not much," Yosul said. "Only that she's ridiculously strong. But yeah... sounds like she's carrying something heavy too."
They walked in silence for a moment, boots crunching softly against the sand.
"Did it show you anything?" Yosul asked.
"Yeah," Erik said simply.
"You don't seem shaken."
"I've already made peace with it," Erik replied. "Those memories don't haunt me anymore."
"Good." Yosul gave him a small, genuine smile. "So that's all? You guys went in, took down the monster, found the relic, and got out?"
"Yeah," Erik said. "That basically sums it up."
"I'm glad you made it out unharmed," Yosul said.
"Vice-Captain!" Rud called from ahead, waving him forward.
"I'll catch you later." Yosul jogged ahead to join him.
Erik continued at a steady pace, trailing behind the others.
Then—he heard it.
A voice. Faint. Gentle.
A woman's voice—calm and soft, drifting on the breeze like a whisper through glass.
He froze.
It was the same voice he'd heard inside the gateway.
He couldn't make out the words… but it felt like she was calling to him.
His eyes scanned the canyon walls. The sky. The ground.
No one else seemed to notice.
Leena walked ahead, unfazed. Kaizer hadn't even turned.
Erik looked around again.
And then—
They reached the place where the horses waited.
But Erik's thoughts were still somewhere else, chasing the ghost of a voice that no one else had heard.
The campfire crackled gently.
The team began setting up camp, the fatigue of the day settling over them like a blanket. Erik grabbed his sheet from the saddlebag and found a spot on a gentle slope that looked out toward the black beach. He spread the fabric and lay down, arms folded behind his head, letting his tired muscles sink into the ground.
The view in front of him was quiet and strange—waves lapping against dark sand under a pale, dying sky.
A shadow appeared beside him.
He turned his head to the right and saw Leena standing there, arms crossed.
"What?" Erik asked.
"Mind if I lay down next to you?" she asked, voice flat, unreadable as always.
Erik shrugged. "Get yourself comfortable."
Leena sat, then slowly lay down beside him, facing the same direction.
For a while, neither of them said anything. Just watched the distant waves.
Then she spoke. "What are you looking at?"
"The beach."
"Oh." Her voice was quiet. She didn't follow up.
Time passed. The sound of the sea, the muffled talk of the others nearby, the occasional snort of a horse—it all filled the silence.
Then Erik asked, "What do you think?"
"About what?"
"The beach."
She took a moment to think. "I mean… it's a beach."
Erik didn't say anything. He just kept watching.
A few minutes later, Leena broke the silence. "What do you think?"
"About the beach?" Erik asked again.
"Yeah."
"I find it calming."
Leena didn't reply. Her eyes lingered on the distant waves.
"You don't?" he asked.
"Not really."
"Alright," Erik said, turning slightly. "What do you do to calm yourself then?"
"Nothing really. I'm always calm."
That was the line Erik had been waiting for.
"You weren't in the temple," he said quietly.
He didn't turn to look at her, but he could feel her body stiffen slightly beside him. The silence that followed said enough.
"I don't want to know what you saw," Erik continued, his tone even. "Or what god-awful things happened to you. But I know they still sting."
He turned to his other side, back facing her now. One hand tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow.
"Past isn't something you bring onto the battlefield," he said. "We live there. You have to let go of it. That's what my old man always told me."
He closed his eyes.
"I'm in no place to judge you. But what happened in that temple… it could've killed you."
He didn't wait for a response. Didn't check to see if she was even still listening.
Instead, Erik let his mind drift. Exhaustion settled in, and for the first time in a long while—despite everything—he allowed himself the luxury of sleep.