The field still smoked.
But the war—
for the first time that morning—
had slowed its pace.
The Northern lines remained motionless beyond the shattered barricades.
Shields raised.
Spears aligned.
Like a black tide waiting for the order to advance once more.
On the other side, the harbor men reorganized the wounded among stone, blood, and bodies still warm.
No one dared break the distance.
Not after what had happened.
Telvaris remained at the front of the formation.
Both katanas still lowered beside his body.
Eyes fixed on the field.
Reading.
Measuring.
The wind crossed through his dark hair while, below the wall, soldiers dragged the dead out of the line of advance.
Footsteps approached from behind him.
Steady.
Restrained.
A knight stopped beside him and struck his fist against his chest.
"Sir."
The voice came out deep beneath the helmet.
"The first line has been reorganized."
"The men await the order to advance."
Telvaris did not answer immediately.
His eyes remained ahead.
On the field.
On the strange silence that had fallen over the battle.
The knight hesitated for a moment.
Then asked:
"What are your orders, sir?"
Telvaris spoke without looking away.
"Any message?"
"Not yet, sir."
The wind blew harder through the North's black spears.
Then Telvaris saw movement.
In the distance—
a figure walked alone across the war-scarred plain.
Calm steps.
No armor.
No escort.
The black fabric of the long robes moved with the wind while he advanced between bodies and broken steel as though the field itself could not touch him.
White-silver hair partially fell over his face.
The white hilt of the katana at his waist contrasted against the black of his clothes.
Amber-gold eyes remained lifted toward the Northern line from the very first step.
Without hesitation.
Without caution.
Caelan stopped exactly between the two armies.
Neither too close.
Nor distant enough to resemble retreat.
Simply… present.
Observing.
Telvaris held his gaze for a long second.
Then spoke:
"Hold position."
The knight remained still.
Attentive.
Telvaris continued:
"No line advances."
The knight hesitated only long enough to understand.
Then struck his fist against his chest once more.
"As you command, sir."
Telvaris began walking.
He passed through the North's front line without hurry.
The black cloaks moved in the wind behind him like motionless shadows.
He crossed the plain alone.
Until he stopped a few meters from Caelan.
The wind crossed the space between them.
Carrying the smell of iron.
Blood.
Caelan held Telvaris' gaze for a few seconds.
Without hurry.
Like someone trying to confirm something he already knew.
Then he spoke:
"I came here alone…"
"Do you understand what that means?"
The voice came low.
Controlled.
Without open threat.
And even so—
the field seemed quieter.
Telvaris did not answer.
Both katanas remained lowered beside his body.
But his attention had changed.
Deeper.
More dangerous.
Caelan continued:
"I saw you in Zamani."
The wind moved the white-silver strands before the amber eyes.
"I saw the man who walked out of that massacre."
A short pause.
"And I saw what remained of him afterward."
The silence between them remained unmoving.
"They say some men go mad in the face of loss."
"Others simply break."
Caelan's eyes never left his.
"Even after killing with your own hands the one you loved."
His voice remained calm.
Almost respectful.
"You chose to keep walking."
Dust drifted slowly between the fallen bodies.
Telvaris did not move.
But his gaze hardened by a fragment.
Minimal.
Enough.
Caelan saw it.
"And then you tried to flee the emptiness she left behind."
His voice lowered slightly.
"You sacrificed innocents."
"You forced open a path through the Abyss."
"You tore apart your own soul in exchange for power."
Each sentence came clean.
Without judgment.
Which made it worse.
"Even when that path led Karna toward death."
The amber eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
"You kept advancing."
The wind ceased for an instant.
Now the silence had weight.
Real.
Caelan observed Telvaris carefully.
Like someone studying a wound left open long ago.
"That is why I respect you."
The words came low.
Too sincere to sound like provocation.
"Few men would be capable of enduring such a price without collapsing completely."
His eyes remained firm.
Precise.
"But tell me, Telvaris…"
A short pause.
And then came the real strike.
"Was it worth it?"
"After everything…"
The amber eyes did not waver.
"She did not even return to you in the way you wanted."
Telvaris moved.
Violently.
Both katanas vanished from the low stance—
and appeared already cutting.
Too fast.
Without warning.
Without hesitation.
The intent killed before the strike could even reach him.
But—
Caelan had already moved.
The sound of steel never came.
For an instant—
the entire field seemed to lose its rhythm.
As though reality itself had hesitated.
Amber-gold eyes shone.
Caelan's hand already rested on the white hilt of the katana.
Telvaris realized too late.
His head fell.
The body remained standing for an instant.
Dark blood slowly slid from the opened neck.
Only then did the knees give way.
The impact of the body against the ground echoed across the silent plain.
No one moved.
Not the North.
Not the harbor men.
The entire field seemed incapable of understanding what had just happened.
One of the katanas spun across the ground before stopping.
The sound seemed too loud.
Caelan remained still.
Observing Telvaris' fallen body.
As though waiting for something.
Then the field exploded.
"THE COMMANDER!"
The roar came from the North's black lines.
Men surged forward in disorder.
Violent.
Shields raised.
Spears lowered.
The formation shattered its own restraint like a tide overtaken by instinct.
Fury.
Panic.
Confusion.
On the harbor side, the soldiers reacted as well.
Cries crossed the walls.
Archers raised their bows.
Knights pulled the reins.
Elara stepped forward.
Black eyes fixed on the rupture in the enemy lines.
"Advance."
Her voice came firm.
Precise.
"Break the formation before they reorganize."
The battle's hesitation vanished at once.
The knights around her moved immediately.
Orders began echoing through the walls.
But then—
The sound of a blade leaving its sheath crossed the field below the wall.
The soldiers hesitated.
Darion remained motionless at the front of the line.
No one behind him continued advancing.
Elara frowned immediately.
"What does that mean?"
Darion's eyes remained fixed on Caelan.
"You still haven't seen what he can do."
Elara's eyes slowly returned to Caelan.
Standing alone at the center of the plain.
Motionless.
Then Darion spoke:
"Welcome to the Sasa..."
The wind crossed the field.
Cold.
And in that same instant—
Telvaris breathed again.
A dry sound.
Violent.
Like lungs returning after far too long empty.
The fallen body trembled.
Dark blood slid back through the opened throat.
And then he was standing again.
Whole.
The North's advance faltered.
Men stopped in the middle of their charge.
Some stumbled.
Others simply froze.
Elara remained silent.
Black eyes fixed on Telvaris.
Not from hesitation.
But because that violated every logic she knew.
Darion's voice came low beside her.
"Death happened."
"The end was reached."
A short pause.
"But Caelan rejected the instant before the world could accept it."
The wind blew again.
Moving blood, dust, and banners.
"And while something remains inside the Sasa…"
"...it can still be rejected."
Silence fell over the plain.
There were no screams now.
No advance.
Only men staring at something that should never exist.
Some Northern soldiers stepped back halfway.
Others tightened their grip on their spears.
As though looking for too long might draw it toward them.
Telvaris took a deep breath for the first time since returning.
Because he remembered.
He remembered the cut.
The darkness.
The empty instant between existing…
and ceasing to exist.
Caelan remained motionless before him.
"On the day the orphanage fell…"
The wind slowly crossed the plain.
"...the director ordered us to leave."
Telvaris' eyes faltered by a fragment.
Minimal.
Caelan continued:
"While he stayed behind to contain the advance."
His voice remained calm.
Without nostalgia.
Which made it worse.
"Before they closed the gates…"
"...he handed me a message."
Now the silence across the field felt absolute.
"He said that if any of us survived…"
His voice lowered slightly.
"...we should find a different path from that place."
Telvaris remained motionless.
But his breathing grew heavy once more.
Caelan took another slow step forward.
"He said that after everything they had made of us…"
"...all he wanted was for us to live as men."
The wind crossed the field between them.
Then Caelan's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
"It was the only moment he ever sounded like a father."
His hand rested lightly upon the katana's hilt.
"And out of respect for his final wish…"
"...I will not take your life."
Silence fell once more.
Telvaris remained still.
But the fingers around his katanas tightened hard.
His breath caught, short and restrained.
Like someone trying to keep buried something that should never return to the surface.
Then—
A breeze slowly crossed the war-marked plain.
Cold.
Silent.
But different.
The air itself seemed to slow between bodies, spears, and banners.
The soldiers felt it.
Even without understanding.
Then a voice emerged beside Caelan.
Calm.
Far too distracted for a battlefield.
"Strange…"
Caelan's eyes slowly slid to the side.
And found a figure in light black armor.
Ice-blond hair moved softly despite the stillness of the field.
Green eyes remained lifted toward the sky.
Like someone listening to something beyond the battle.
"I was wondering why the air stopped responding properly in this part of the field."
His gaze then slowly lowered toward Caelan.
A slight understanding appeared in his expression.
"I see."
Caelan held his gaze for a brief instant.
Like someone finally finding a missing piece.
"So it's you…"
A short pause.
"The man known as the White Crow."
Zeph observed the field around them.
The walls.
The banners.
And then the space distorted by Caelan's presence.
"An interesting ability."
His voice came soft.
Almost casual.
"Wind and time possess similar natures."
Turquoise-green eyes returned to Caelan.
"Both cross through the world without form."
A light current crossed the space between them.
Then Caelan answered:
"And both are dangerous precisely because they were never meant to be controlled."
Zeph remained silent for an instant.
Then a small smile appeared.
Subtle.
Almost invisible.
"Perhaps this is the first interesting conversation I've found on this field."
Caelan inclined his head slightly.
"That depends on what you came here seeking."
Zeph held his gaze for a moment.
"I suppose we'll discover that soon enough."
Caelan did not answer.
He merely shifted his eyes toward Telvaris.
Silence remained for a brief instant.
The space around Caelan distorted.
Slightly.
Like a reflection over dark water.
And he disappeared.
The breeze slowly crossed the plain.
Zeph remained still.
Green eyes still turned toward the place where Caelan had stood.
"Interesting…"
Near the walls—
space silently tore open beside Elara.
Caelan emerged without impact.
Without sound.
As though he had always been there.
Elara did not see him appear.
She only noticed his presence when the breeze changed beside her.
Darion cast him a brief glance.
"And then?"
Caelan's eyes met Darion's.
"Inside the Sasa…"
His voice came calm.
"...I saw the outcome of a confrontation between us."
Darion asked:
"And?"
Caelan finally shifted his gaze toward the center of the plain.
"Regardless of the victor…"
"...both sides would leave destroyed."
Darion remained silent for a moment.
Eyes fixed upon the plain.
Then he spoke:
"If you reached that conclusion…"
His voice came low.
Precise.
"...then he is not someone who can be ignored."
A short pause.
Caelan's eyes remained distant.
"In only two years…"
"...he became someone completely different from the man I saw in Zamani."
Elara remained watching the field.
Black eyes distant for a brief instant.
Like someone listening to echoes from something far beyond that war.
Then she spoke:
"The White Crow…"
"...is only one step away from the one who rests within Northern territory."
Darion frowned slightly.
But Caelan remained motionless.
Watching her in silence.
As though understanding she was not speaking of an ordinary man.
The breeze crossed the walls once more.
And for an instant—
even the war itself seemed far too distant.