Roland woke to the sound of crying and the weight of a girl’s body draped across his chest.
For a few monts, he forgot everything—forgot the war, the strange world, the chaos. In that instant, he was just Roland, a boy from Earth. But that faded the mont he recognized the voice sobbing against him.
He looked down and saw a silver-haired beauty, her face hidden in her arms as she leaned against his chest.
He slowly moved one hand—weak, barely able to lift it—and gently patted her head.
He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He felt that if he tried, he might start coughing uncontrollably.
The girl finally lifted her face, her tear-streaked eyes warm and gentle as they t his.
"You’re awake... finally."
She wiped her face and leaned forward, hugging him gently.
"Sorry to worry you... So, how did we do? Did we win?"
Roland needed to know. Were they safe? Were there more demons to fight, and what could he even do in this condition?
"Yes," she replied. "You repelled the demons from the Light Spirit’s lands. We don’t know how the demons were killed—it was so kind of magic—but what you did is being talked about everywhere. Even the demons won’t co near this place after what you did. You killed more than ten thousand of them with that spell..."
Roland strained to rember. The last thing he recalled was the king being in danger.
"And your father?"
"He’s fine. You saved him, Roland. Thank you."
Stella kissed him lightly, mindful that he shouldn’t be moving too much yet.
"Of course I did," Roland murmured. "You were the one who told to do it. Now tell —what’s really going on? And why do I feel so weak?"
Stella’s expression dimd.
"We don’t know. We were hoping that once you visited the Light Spirit, after waking up, we’d get the answers we need."
Roland tried to think. Maybe his magic was just on cooldown... or maybe what he feared most had actually happened.
He lifted his hand and produced nothing. Not even a flicker of mana. It was as if he were back on Earth.
"What?" he mumbled, drawing a concerned glance from Stella.
"I don’t have mana... I can’t use magic."
He tried to rise, but his body was too weak. Stella moved to support him imdiately, then called for help.
Boris, one of her knights, rushed in at the sound of her voice. Seeing her struggling with Roland, he quickly stepped forward. A few others followed, helping the hero to his feet. Monts later, two maids arrived to assist with clean clothes and bring him food.
Before long, Roland was upright again—walking slowly, but determined to get to the bottom of this.
Not long after, King Halter and Renar entered his tent, both ready to report their findings.
"So, tell what actually happened," Roland said, seated with Stella beside him, facing the two n.
"You saved ," the king began. "You were stabbed by Targo, but he died by the blades you summoned. As for the rest of the demons... we believe you triggered multiple magical effects before collapsing—because of the claws buried in your chest."
Renar, who had only heard the account secondhand, couldn’t add much to it—but he brought news of his own.
"Well... I wasn’t close enough to help you that day," Renar said, regret thick in his voice. "But I found sothing. A place that might restore your strength."
He stepped closer, his tone turning grave.
"We know the land ahead. Deep in the forest, there’s a barrier—one even we can’t cross. But I believe you can."
His face was set with determination. He already blad himself for not being there to protect Roland—and now, he was willing to do anything to help him recover his strength.
"Then that’s where I need to go," Roland replied. "And I’ll be taking Stella with . Maybe she’ll benefit from the great spirit’s blessing as well. Prepare two fast mounts and take there, Renar. King Halter—I hope you’ll allow this."
The king, who already owed the young man his life, gave a slow nod.
"I’ll allow it. And if my daughter receives the spirits’ favor too... then this journey will have been more than worth it."
"Sure, just rember—keep her safe."
"I will. You don’t have to worry about that."
Roland held her hand, then stood up slowly. Renar, anwhile, had already slipped away to prepare two of the fastest Roc Birds.
"As a father, it angers to see my daughter in soone else’s arms," King Halter said, his voice restrained. "But as a friend... I hope you take good care of her. Please, do your best—and don’t fail her."
"I won’t fail her," Roland said firmly. "I swear it—by all the spirits that have ever blessed ."
He spoke the words that carried the greatest weight in this world.
He extended his hand. The king took it, and a mont later, opened his arms wide as his daughter ran into them, radiant with joy.
"Thanks, Father! You’re the best!"
Roland hated to cut the mont short, but outside the tent ca the thudding of large steps—three creatures approaching.
"We’ll hopefully see you tonight, Your Majesty," Roland said, offering a respectful nod before stepping outside.
Renar helped him mount the great bird that looked like a mix of a large chicken and an ostrich while the king gave Stella a final boost onto hers.
The three riders took off.
The forest wasn’t far, but the journey would still take hours. It was just past noon. Overhead, a do of light encircled the distant woodland, visible even from a distance.
This place—this forest—seed untouched, and for the first ti, the view of untainted trees.
Animals moved without fear. Crystal-clear springs bubbled from the ground. The trees stood tall and lush.
It was the kind of land Roland hoped Stella’s kingdom could one day resemble.
They didn’t stop, not even when Roland winced from the lingering pain in his body. He kept going.
Roughly two hours later, they reached the boundary.
The barrier ca into view—a wide wall of pale light surrounding the temple of the Light Spirit. This was the place Renar had been unable to enter.
Roland dismounted slowly, walked to the barrier, and placed his hand against it.
The surface rippled beneath his touch, like water disturbed by a fingertip.
It welcod him.
"This is far enough, Renar," Roland said. "We’ll return once our task is done."
Roland, lacking the strength—and the need—to climb back onto the Roc Bird, took hold of its reins and led it forward on foot. He moved closer to Stella’s mount and did the sa, gently guiding both creatures toward the barrier.
They crossed without issue, as if being welcod.
Inside, the light grew brighter. The two walked side by side, and with each step, Roland felt a little stronger—until they finally reached the temple clearing, where a figure awaited them.
A blindfolded woman stood at the entrance. From the look of her, she was blind—though her posture and calm deanor suggested otherwise. She wore only two simple garnts that barely covered her body, yet she seed unconcerned. With a soft expression, she welcod them and silently turned to guide them further inside.
Stella and Roland took a mont to tie the birds to a nearby post, placing food and water close enough to keep them calm. Then they followed.
The woman led them without speaking. Only the gentle chirping of birds echoed through the air.
All around them, light spirits floated—small, yellowish-white wisps drifting lazily through the temple halls. They seed busy, each one moving with a strange purpose.
Roland couldn’t help but be curious. Each wisp had a faint silhouette at its center, sothing vaguely humanoid, almost as if each light spirit carried a soul of its own. He wanted to look deeper, to see what lay beneath all that brilliance.
Stella, walking beside him, looked just as intrigued.
Eventually, they reached a deeper chamber.
At its heart stood a throne—no ordinary seat, but one seemingly shaped from radiance itself. Upon it hovered a being of pure light, more defined than the others.
She had the shape of a woman, her body wrapped in shifting radiance.
"Welco, you two," she said in a voice that was both warm and commanding. "I am the Light Monarch, Silmira. You are now within a sacred place.
"Now then, Hero, I’m sure you have questions—and we will get to them. But first, you must begin to heal the part of your soul that was broken... the part that split into seven pieces.
"You know why, don’t you?"
The spirit sat upright in her throne, which looked to be crafted from solid gold. It hovered a few feet above the floor, almost as if elevated by the light itself. Roland couldn’t help but wonder if this part of the forest within the bubble—bathed in light—was her true ho, rendering a physical temple like that of humans unnecessary.
"Is it because I almost died?" he asked.
The figure nodded. Her silhouette, though made of light, clearly bore a feminine form, and her voice confird it—so Roland had begun to think of her as a she.
"By coming so close to death," she said, "you triggered a rupture. The blessings we infused into you—the spirits—reacted to protect you, but in doing so, they died. Their essence scattered. You lost the link to us, the Greater Spirits."
"So... that’s why I lost my power?" Roland asked, the frustration in his voice rising. "Can I get it back?"
"Yes. That is the reason," Silmira replied calmly. "To regain your strength, you must travel to each of the spirit focuses. Liberate their domains. Reconnect with them, and your power will return.
"I will be the first. I shall grant you the strongest of my spirits—Elion. With his aid, you will walk the path back to power. Use him wisely, and you will beco strong again."
Roland nodded slowly, uncertain of what would happen next, but ready.
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