Start of Volume 3: Ashes to Ascent: Life in the Hub
With that, Mikael got up, left the master bedroom, and walked through the magnificent apartment decorated by Kiara. He was heading toward the door when, just as he neared the living room, he heard voices.
"...And this is how you should do it!" Kiara's proud voice rang out.
"I didn't really understand the part about stabbing the bitch. Can you explain a little more?" inquired Lyra's curious voice.
As he heard their conversation, Mikael's expression turned strange. He kept walking but, unable to resist after what he had just heard, cast a glance into the living room as he passed by.
Immediately, he raised an eyebrow in surprise. The scene before him was just too… weird.
Where there was usually a comfortable couch with someone lying on it, was replaced by a different scene, someone was sitting on it—but not in a normal way. Of course, sitting on a couch wasn't strange in itself, but in this situation, it was Lyra who was sitting, a notebook in her left hand and a pen in her right, occasionally jotting something down.
But that was the normal part.
Standing in front of Lyra was Kiara, a knife in her hand, waving it around. Not far from her stood a mannequin, its surface marked with multiple cut traces.
Kiara stopped waving her knife and took a more serious stance. Then, in an instructive tone, she explained, "The 'stabbing the bitch' part is extremely important." She looked at Lyra, who seemed to be taking her 'lesson' seriously, which satisfied her. She then continued, "First, you need to identify the bitch." She raised a finger.
"To do this, you must be cautious of all women who approach Mikael. Watch them carefully, and once you've identified the threat, you can follow them into an isolated alley and—BAM."
The moment she said BAM, her hand moved, and she plunged the knife into the mannequin's head, embedding it up to the handle.
With a quick flex of her arm, she pulled the knife out and turned to Lyra. "Any questions?"
Lyra scribbled something in her notebook before asking, "Yeah, but how exactly do you identify the 'bitch'?"
"Oh, this is easy. The way is…"
Mikael didn't hear the rest as he walked away from the living room, finding the whole scene both incredibly weird and… strangely endearing?
As he continued walking, his mind was in a daze. 'What the fuck did I just see?' he wondered.
It seemed that Kiara was teaching Lyra how to be a yandere. 'What the fuck???'
He had no idea how things had escalated to this point, but he simply shrugged. 'At least they seem to be getting along… So yeah, that's what matters. Even though, after what I just saw, I get the feeling that Kiara won't be the only yandere around me…'
At this thought, a normal person would probably be terrified. After all, a yandere was essentially a crazy woman, and for most people, having someone too attached to you would be creepy.
But who said Mikael was normal?
He just found it endearing…
The scene before him helped lift some of the gloom that had settled in his heart as he thought about the funeral—about Amelia, her reaction, her feelings…
Because of that, he wasn't the most alert at this moment. Just as he was about to reach the door, he suddenly recalled that the girls had been deeply immersed in their conversation earlier, seemingly having forgotten that the ceremony was soon… Considering how engrossed they were, they had likely lost track of time.
Knowing how awkward it would be if the two girls were chatting lively in the living room when he brought Amelia, he quickly sent a message to Kiara and Lyra using the party system to remind them of the approaching funeral.
With that done, he stepped through the door and was teleported, reappearing in the familiar training room—except there were a few changes.
Inside the interior dojo, a newly added section housed an archery range. The space was meticulously designed, featuring a long, open lane with multiple targets set at varying distances. Each target was made from reinforced materials, ensuring they could withstand repeated impacts. Soft lighting illuminated the area, casting minimal shadows to maintain optimal visibility. A rack on the side held a selection of high-quality bows and quivers filled with arrows, neatly arranged for easy access. The floor was covered in a special material that reduced noise and provided stability for the archer's stance.
Standing at the center of this setup was Amelia, her determined presence radiating through the surroundings. A bow in her hand and an arrow nocked, she took aim before letting it loose.
The arrow sliced through the air with precision, striking the target dead center, hitting the bullseye.
Without pause, Amelia swiftly pulled another arrow from her quiver and continued her assault, releasing shot after shot, each landing with impressive accuracy.
"Amelia," Mikael called.
Hearing his voice, Amelia turned her head, momentarily pulled from her intense focus. Her expression shifted almost instantly, her features growing grimmer.
"It's time?" she asked.
"Yeah."
Mikael didn't say much, but a silent understanding passed between them. Without another word, the atmosphere noticeably heavier, Amelia returned the bow, quiver, and arrows to the rack.
She then moved toward him, and together, they exited through the doors. The moment they stepped out, they were teleported to the Hub.
The vibrant, bustling atmosphere of the Hub was in stark contrast to the heavy aura surrounding them. Ignoring the lively crowd, they ascended the stairs in silence before being teleported directly to their apartment.
The air was thick with sorrow as Mikael and Amelia reappeared in their familiar space. Waiting by the door in silence stood Kiara and Lyra. Neither spoke, but their expressions said enough.
The liveliness from their earlier conversation had vanished. Kiara's usual smirk was gone, replaced by an expression of solemnity. Lyra, clutching her notebook tightly against her chest, looked hesitant, as if uncertain whether her presence was even appropriate.
Mikael glanced at Amelia beside him. She hadn't uttered a word since they left the training room. Her emerald-green eyes, once sharp and composed, were dulled by exhaustion. Yet beneath that sorrow, something else simmered—a restrained storm, the kind that could only be born from grief too vast to put into words.
Wordlessly, the four of them moved deeper into the apartment, entering a dimly lit room prepared for the funeral. It wasn't grand. There were no extravagant decorations, no long-winded speeches—just a quiet space where the dead could be remembered.
At the center, a small table had been set up, and on it rested three framed photographs—Shadow, Aria, and Cadmus. Their faces, frozen in time, stared back at the mourners.
Shadow, the ever-loyal protector, had given her life to ensure Amelia's survival—a woman who had fought without hesitation, even in the face of certain death.
Aria, Amelia's best friend—the one who had laughed beside her, fought beside her, and, without a doubt, would have been there for her until the end. Instead, she had perished alone in the chaos of the invasion, swallowed by the destruction of Dirarnia.
Cadmus, her father… A man who had stood at the pinnacle of power in Dirarnia, not just because of his title, but because of his unwavering strength. He had always been someone Amelia could rely on, someone she believed would never fall. And yet, he had.
Amelia took a slow step forward, her gaze locked onto the pictures. Her lips parted, but no words came. She clenched her fists at her sides, her entire body trembling—not from fear, but from the weight of everything she had lost.
"I wasn't there…" she finally whispered, her voice hoarse. "I wasn't there for any of them."
Mikael watched as her fingers dug into her palms, her nails biting into her skin. Lyra lowered her gaze, while Kiara, for once, didn't carry her usual uninterested expression to anything unrelated to Mikael. Instead, she offered her silent support.
"They died, and I couldn't do anything." Amelia's voice shook, but it wasn't just sadness anymore. A flicker of rage burned beneath it, raw and unfiltered. "Shadow died saving me. Aria… I didn't even think about her when the invasion started. And my father… my father…" Her breath hitched, her vision blurring. "I can't even bury them. There's nothing left of them."
Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she took a sharp breath and straightened her back, forcing herself to stand tall.
"I hate them," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Nexoria… The Obsidian Covenant… Everything that took them away from me." Her fingers clenched into fists again, the grief morphing into something colder, sharper. "I will never forgive them."
The room remained silent. There was nothing anyone could say that would make this better.
Mikael finally stepped forward and placed a hand on Amelia's shoulder. He didn't offer empty words of comfort. He didn't tell her it would be okay, because it wouldn't be. He just stood there, his presence grounding her.
Amelia closed her eyes for a moment, taking in a slow, shuddering breath. Then, finally, she let her hands fall to her sides.
"I will remember them," she murmured, her voice steadier now. "But I won't stop here."
"We will all remember them," Mikael declared, his voice steady with conviction.
Kiara and Lyra exchanged glances before stepping closer, each offering their silent support.
One by one, they turned their gazes to the pictures on the table.
The funeral wasn't grand. It wasn't the kind of farewell one would expect or the kind one would want for a loved one. There were only three simple pictures—no coffins, no bodies to bury. But given their unusual circumstances, this was the best they could do. At the very least, it gave them a place to offer their respects.
And for now, that was enough.
After Amelia's emotionally charged words, the three remained close to her, offering silent support. The air was heavy, thick with grief. For a while, none of them spoke. Occasionally, one of them would break the silence, sharing a few words about the deceased, but the weight of loss never left the room. This wasn't a joyous occasion—sorrow clung to them, refusing to let go.
Time passed like this before the funeral finally came to an end. The four of them left the room and moved to the living room, each taking a seat on the couch.
Mikael noticed that the mannequin had 'mysteriously' disappeared, but he wasn't in the mood to care. His mind was lost in thought, and the same could be said for the others. Even though they had left the funeral room, the gloomy atmosphere still lingered around them.
"Mikael." The silence was broken by Amelia's voice.
Mikael looked at her, meeting her green eyes. There he saw that the sorrow from earlier had vanished, replaced by a fierce determination.
"I want to grow stronger!" she declared, her gaze locked onto his.
Her words came out of nowhere, but Mikael wasn't surprised—considering that was exactly what she had been striving for these past few days. However, what she said next did catch him off guard.
Amelia took a deep breath, her expression filled with unshakable resolve. "That's why I want to explore other worlds alone like you did! When you arrived in Dirarnia, you gained both aura and mana, and that allowed you to grow stronger. I want to do the same. If I travel to other worlds, I can push my limits and become even stronger!"
Her fists clenched as her voice thickened with hatred. "I want to put an end to Nexoria and those dogs from the Obsidian Covenant. But considering what we saw—their summon from Nexoria was just as hostile toward them as it was toward everything else—they're probably already dead…" For a brief moment, a lost expression crossed her face, but it was quickly replaced by pure disdain. "A fitting end for bastards like them."
She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to regain control of her emotions. "But Nexoria still exists. It's still standing. And I want to destroy it. That's why I need to get stronger—no, I must get stronger. And the only way to do that is by traveling to other worlds."
Author Note:
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