The southern river welcomed them like a long-delayed mercy. The water ran shallow and clear, sliding over pale stones that shimmered under the late afternoon sun. The smoke of Bustleburg still trailed behind them in the sky—red streaks twisting upward like dying dragons—but the air here was fresher, cooler, almost too gentle compared to the violence they had come from.
Kaito lowered himself at the riverbank with a heavy exhale. His arms still trembled from the Kobold King fight, muscles pulsing with the ache of wounds that refused to close. Nearby, Hana knelt at the water's edge and splashed her face, washing away soot and dried blood. Ryuji's legs gave out the moment he found a smooth boulder; he sank onto it like a man surrendering his last ounce of energy.
Zentake, being Zentake, collapsed on the grass—only to immediately pop back up and dump his loot in front of him in a messy pile. Three massive weapons thudded into the ground like meteorites. His eyes gleamed with the hunger of a starving crow who had stumbled upon a banquet.
Nogare stood apart from them, hands on his hips, surveying the clearing, weighing every sound. Only when he confirmed the forest held no immediate threat did he walk toward the pile of loot.
He reached down and picked up one of the Kobold King's greatswords. It was ugly—jagged, chipped, carved by brute hands—but still emanated a menacing aura.
"Kaito," Nogare said, "fuse this with your weapon."
Zentake bolted upright.
"Oi! That one's mine!"
Nogare didn't bother turning. "He needs it more than you."
Zentake pouted like a kicked child but did not argue further. Even he could not deny Kaito had survived that battle through sheer desperation.
Kaito accepted the greatsword silently. He pressed his palms to its battered metal and his own black blade rested across his lap. The air thickened. Mana pulsed. Weapon Synthesis began.
Black light engulfed the two blades, shadows spiraling upward like smoke and then collapsing inward with a thunderclap. Kaito's greatsword reformed—longer, sharper, its dark steel etched now with glowing blue claw marks. Even the handle extended, meant for heavier, wilder swings.
A deep hum vibrated through the steel, resonating with something inside Kaito.
The skill awakened:
Berserker's Marrow.
The lower his health, the stronger he became—attack, speed, defense all soaring in proportion to how close he stood to the edge.
Kaito exhaled, sharp and violent. The surge of power nearly knocked him backward.
Nogare watched quietly. Then he lifted the ogre club.
"And now," he said lightly, "a favor. Fuse this to my katana."
Kaito nodded. No hesitation.
The silver katana lay beside the monstrous club. The two weapons glowed—silver and molten gold—before merging in a brilliant flash. Nogare's blade emerged longer, radiant, a golden streak of honed fury. It hummed like a storm trapped in metal.
Another skill awakened:
Unstoppable Force.
Crowd control could no longer bind him. No stun, no freeze, no interruption—not while he moved with intent.
Nogare slid the katana into his scabbard. For the first time in hours, a small smirk found its way onto his lips.
Hana stared in obvious envy as the bow in her hand pulsed faintly. Hana's eyes couldn't hide the longing as she clutched her bow. Nogare noticed.
He looked at Zentake.
Zentake folded his arms over his loot. "No. These are mine."
Nogare shrugged. "Fine. Kaito—use this staff."
"…Staff?" Ryuji tilted his head. "Why a staff? Hana doesn't use—"
Kaito replied, "Only the effects transfer. Her bow stays her bow."
Nogare handed kaito the green staff he'd taken from one of the five Valerian officers he killed. Hana touched it like it might vanish.
Kaito placed the staff beside Hana's bow. Weapon Synthesis ignited once more.
A soft forest-green glow spiraled upward. Leaves of mana fluttered in the air. Hana watched in awe as her bow reshaped—shorter, lighter, perfectly fitted to her draw length. Brown bark-like texture wrapped its limbs, threaded with thin green veins of living light.
Her bow felt alive.
And with it, a new skill bloomed:
Sky Whisper Arrow.
A scouting arrow—she could fire it anywhere, and wherever it landed, her sight would reach.
Hana's smile stretched wide enough to break through all exhaustion.
Nogare lifted the last remaining kobold sword.
"This one, we give to the Korvath Guild. They'll appreciate the gesture."
Zentake groaned—long, dramatic, suffering—but he didn't argue. He tied the other king-weapons to his back, muttering curses at the weight.
The river bubbled softly beside them. Wind rustled through the trees. The world felt momentarily gentle again.
Nogare sheathed his golden katana and stepped forward.
"We move soon. The river gave us time, not safety."
Ryuji stood, leaning on his wand like a traveler leaning on hope. Hana tested her new bow, drawing an invisible arrow. Kaito's new blade glinted darkly in the fading sun. Zentake stuffed his treasures into his pack, still grumbling.
Five shadows rose from the riverbank.
Wounded. Upgraded. Determined.
They headed south again—toward Korvath, toward the next storm,
their weapons newly reborn as the burning sky behind them slowly dimmed.