The wind howled the moment I lifted my lance.
Before I could blink, Perephone was already there—her weapon cutting through the air like a bolt cleaving the clouds.
CLASH!
My arms shuddered as our lances met. Sparks flew.
I staggered back three paces, barely keeping my footing.
Her eyes were calm. Her movements were sharp, unburdened by effort.
She lunged again.
BOOM.
The ground cracked where I stood.
I blocked. Just barely. The force rippled through my bones.
I tried to breathe—but even my lungs felt too slow to keep up.
"Come now, Luna," Perephone said, voice level, taunting. "You were supposed to be the one to rise above the stars, weren't you?"
Another strike—faster than the last.
I parried left. Too wide.
Her shoulder slammed into my chest and sent me rolling. Dust swallowed my vision. My knees scraped stone.
"Where is the radiance they promised me?" she mocked. "Where is the glory of Solviel, the Third Circle? All I see is a girl clinging to a stick."
I forced myself to my feet, panting. My grip was shaking.
I launched forward.
A low thrust aimed at her thigh—blocked.
A spinning crescent strike—parried.
An overhead arc—intercepted, thrown off-course, and—
CRACK!
Her lance struck the side of my ribs. I gasped, the world spun.
I collapsed.
Pain spread through my side like a wave of heat. My fingers twitched. The lance lay just out of reach.
Still, I heard her voice.
"I remember now... Solviel doesn't speak. It only observes. What a useless spirit you are," she said aloud, her voice now raised for Vareon to hear. "Third Circle? Hah. I've seen nameless spirits with more fire."
The High Seer said nothing. His hands were still behind his back, unmoved.
I clenched my jaw. I could feel Solviel watching. But there was no comfort in it. Only that same, terrible stillness.
Why won't you help me…?
"Fight back, Luna!" Perephone barked. "Or will you crawl to the top of the world on your knees?"
I roared and grabbed my lance.
I surged forward again.
A thrust—she sidestepped.
A sweep—she jumped.
A spin—she ducked, and with a flick of her weapon—
CRACK.
She sent my lance flying from my hands.
And then her blunt end crashed against my collarbone.
I dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. My body screamed. My spirit burned in silence.
"Get up," she said coldly. "Come on, little goddess. Get up and prove them right."
Solviel… I whispered in my heart.
Please. If you see me… then tell me—what am I fighting for?
And in that moment—No words came. No divine revelation. Only a low hum behind my ribs. Faint. Rhythmic. Like a heartbeat made of light.
Perephone took slow steps toward me, disappointed.
"Prophecy is just a story told by men too weak to accept failure," she said. "But history—history is written in pain."
She raised her lance again. The sky behind her roared. Lightning split a tree beyond the wall.
"Now rise. Or stay down forever."
My arms felt like glass. My legs burned with every breath. Every strike from Perephone brought thunder—not just sound, but pressure, collapsing against my ribs, my spine, my pride.
And still she pressed on. Her lance danced like a serpent made of lightning, sharp and merciless.
Another hit.
I gasped as the tip of her weapon hooked my side and spun me into the ground again. My cheek slammed against the marble. Blood filled my mouth.
"Still standing, Solviel?" Perephone now spoke above me, but her words were no longer for me. "Expecting your vessel to rise on her own? Or will you keep pretending you're a god when you're really just a coward?"
I blinked through haze. My fingers twitched toward my fallen lance.
"A grand spirit passed down through generations," she said mockingly. "More myth than will. What are you now, Solviel? Just a family heirloom gathering dust?"
I could feel the silence tighten. Even the wind stopped moving.
High Seer Vareon, until now unmoved, finally shifted—his hands drifting slightly from behind his back.
"This would need to stop, Perephone," he said, his voice still controlled.
Perephone didn't even look at him.
"Oh?" she said, chuckling darkly. "What could you do? Your prophecies hold no weight here. This is a trial of flesh, not of fate."
She turned again to me—but her words never aimed for me.
"Surely you know, Solviel," she said with venom, "that when your awakener dies, you vanish too.You'll never be passed on again. No temples. No heirs. Just… gone."
I groaned, trying to push myself up.
My body refused. My arms shook under my weight, my muscles torn and failing.
I tried to breathe—but the ache in my chest crushed every attempt.
"What a sad fate for a spirit so noble," Perephone hissed. "Bound to a girl who bleeds like any other."
Her lance lifted one more time, her expression unreadable.
And then, quietly—broken, shaking—I whispered:
"Please… Solviel…"
"I can't… I can't do this alone…"
For a moment, I thought I was too late. The marble under me felt warm with blood. The sky above had turned dark.
And then—
Time skipped.
It didn't stop.
It didn't rewind.
It simply… skipped.
Like the beat of a drum missing a single strike. Like lightning flashing before thunder could follow.
Perephone's next blow… missed me entirely.
She blinked—eyes widening.
And from my chest, the faintest glow began to rise.
No explosion. No roar. Just… a pulse. A soundless chime, as if something ancient had turned its head.
From behind my ribs, I felt it:
Solviel.
Not speaking. Not guiding.
But watching… closer now.
"She calls, not to win… but not to be left behind."
Perephone stepped back.
"So… you can hear," she whispered, tightening her grip.
"Finally stirred by pity? Or is this just fear of disappearing?"
The air crackled—not with lightning, but with tension, like an old thread pulling taut across time.
And I… stood.
Barely.
Bruised. Trembling.
But I stood.
My body was mine, and yet it wasn't.
Every nerve felt open. Every breath, a chime of something greater.
Then—A voice. Calm. Serene. Timeless.
"Apologize, young Luna… May I take control for a moment?"
It was not a command.It was a request.Yet my soul yielded before I even spoke the words.
"…Yes."
Golden runes spiraled around me, slow and deliberate—symbols older than any language I knew. They shimmered against the stone, casting reflections into the air like fractured constellations.
My wounds evaporated. The pain dissolved.
I rose—graceful, unwavering.But it was no longer me standing fully.
It was Solviel.
The spirit of the Third Circle.
"Now this is exciting…" Perephone's smile widened. "Solviel's unique skill, is it? Resona Manifesto."
The air hummed. Even Vareon took a single step forward, his expression finally cracking—curiosity and concern flickering behind his eyes.
Solviel—through me—moved.
A flick of my wrist. The lance turned weightless in my hand.
Perephone lunged—fast, calculated.
But Solviel was already mid-air, golden runes trailing behind with every motion. The crescent blade met Perephone's steel with a resonant clang that echoed like a bell struck underwater.
Strike—parried.Sweep—dodged.Lunge—met with a pivot and deflected behind.
Perephone's grin only grew sharper.
"Faster. More refined. Your reactions are divine, I'll give you that."
She twirled her lance and grounded it, causing a burst of kinetic energy to shoot outward, cracking the tiles.
Solviel's form glided to the side, not touching the ground—almost floating.
I could feel it all, as though I were watching from a mirror.
This was no longer training.
This was the language of two ancient forces, speaking in the dialect of war.
Then came the clash.
BOOM.
Perephone's next strike roared like thunder. Solviel met it—not with power, but with precision, redirecting the force in a spiral of golden light that shot upward.
The energy burst into the sky, parting clouds.
"Now I feel it," Perephone said, eyes gleaming. "The power that defeated Raksha, my spirit."
For a moment, she paused.
And then—
"But…" she said slowly, her expression shifting to something colder, heavier.
"…you were still powerless against Gren Leviyatan."
Time stopped for a breath.
Inside me—Solviel flinched.
Just barely.
But I felt it.
A single silence that screamed louder than anything that came before.
What was that?
I tried to speak, to ask, but I couldn't move.
"Raksha is quite the storyteller, you see," Perephone said softly. "But she left out the best part…"
She lowered her lance, not to strike—but to judge.
"To think that the Celestial Spirit Solviel… failed its own purpose."
The golden glow dimmed.The runes faded.
And just like that, control slipped back into my hands.
I collapsed.
This time… not from pain.
But from the truth.