’When opposing sides are driven by equally powerful motives, the outco of a battle is determined by sheer willpower, unwavering determination, a stroke of luck, and flashes of individual brilliance.’
These ideas were imprinted into the minds of the Fools, along with a gradual ntal focus on how to prevent foes from easily reading their thoughts within three days.
Daylan used every technique taught by Silver to his advantage, hoping to outmaneuver those who employed similar thods whenever mind reading beca necessary.
However, as Silver once said, "No matter how high the prey climbs or how deep it hides, the predator’s eyes will follow, and its hunger will guide."
It was still early in the day, nearing the heart of the afternoon, when Astara suddenly sensed sothing during a fleeting shift in the mont — three figures rushing toward their hideout, their footsteps swift and urgent as they closed the distance within seconds.
Silver couldn’t be certain, unable to sense Gold and Platinum—but it was convinced it was them. If so, they had arrived much earlier than expected.
Without a mont to spare, the Fools rushed to don their masks and headed outside to confront the approaching threat.
With their identities still unknown, Silver was only permitted to appear once it was confird that Giselle wasn’t among them.
The misfits scattered the mont Daylan and the others erged from the house, their eyes burning with intensity. Only a small field and a few bushes now separated the hideout from the nearby houses.
They stood in their usual formation—the king at the center, flanked by the soldier and the poet, each holding their respective positions on the right and left.
Before long, Astara sensed their footsteps drawing closer—closer than they had been just monts ago—until they suddenly stopped.
The abrupt halt didn’t match the speed of their approach; it was too sudden, too unnatural. Instantly, she knew sothing was off. When she alerted the others, they felt the sa.
Daylan suspected a sneak attack the mont their sudden disappearance occurred. He urged the others to stay alert, yet a sense of unease lingered. What if the strike ca too fast for any of them to react?
It was a possibility he had no solution for—but that was to be expected, given that each of the three was far superior to them in strength.
His intuition couldn’t have been more accurate. Before he could finish his thoughts, a palm rested calmly on his mask. Panic flickered in his eyes, but before he could react, he was slamd to the ground. The pain from the impact barely registered before his foe was on top of him.
Daylan imdiately opened his eyes and recognized her—it was Platinum. She appeared entirely human, with short brown hair, pale brown eyes, and fair skin, showing no trace of the demonic traits found in her.
Daylan saw Platinum, but it was too late to issue any orders — her strike was already aid at his face the mont he realized what was happening.
There was nothing he could do but brace himself and take the strike—hoping to rewind ti later, but only if he survived.
dora suffered the sa fate at Gold’s hands, while the captain—who bore a striking resemblance to Daylan, save for his pupil-less eyes and long silver-gray hair—casually approached Astara, intent on claiming the king for himself.
In that instant, all eyes shifted to Daylan and Platinum as her strike slamd into the ground, causing the earth beneath to tremble and crack.
Daylan’s eyes widened as fear surged through him. If the strike had landed, it would likely be the end of him — and even if he survived, it would be by the narrowest margin.
Though terrified and relieved that the strike never landed, Daylan was also confused — why hadn’t she followed through?
"Master Daylan?" Platinum said, interrupting his thoughts, her eyes flickering with terror.
"I’m so sorry, Master. Please forgive ."
She quickly got off Daylan, dropped to her knees, and continued to apologize.
Daylan was confused as to how Platinum had recognized him — he hadn’t removed his mask and was actively shielding his thoughts from her. But that was a conversation for another ti.
"Silver, Gold, and Platinum — I order you to kill him!"
He pointed at the captain, who still stood before Astara. She, anwhile, seed frozen in place, as if stunned — lost in a mory.
Silver reappeared out of nowhere, instantly joining Gold and Platinum as they advanced toward the captain. Yet the captain remained surprisingly calm — as if he already knew the outco was in his favor.
He looked past them, ignoring the Titans entirely. "So, you’re a Rhys — Giselle’s son, no less. This ti, I’ll finish you once and for all." He smirked, but it didn’t last long before the Titans charged at him.
While the battle raged on, both Daylan and dora noticed that Astara was still frozen in place. They rushed to her side, but it was like speaking to an empty shell. She seed distant — lost, confused, and, above all, afraid.
This was the first ti either of them had seen her like this, and it unsettled them.
Daylan tried to bring her back to her senses, but it was no use. dora suggested they take her inside to rest — perhaps she was traumatized from facing the captain alone.
Maybe his overwhelming presence had left her in this state.
But Astara wouldn’t move. Her eyes remained fixed on the captain, unblinking and distant.
Daylan’s expression suddenly darkened.
"Wait... could it be?"
dora turned to him, concern in her eyes.
"What is it?"
"It’s just a hunch, but... could the phantoms have been involved with her parents after all? And maybe her reaction now is post-traumatic — a response to finally seeing the very people she’d been searching for all this ti."
dora glanced at Astara, then back at Daylan, whose eyes remained fixed on the fight. Despite the Titans’ imnse strength, durability, and speed, they were struggling against the captain. Daylan’s mind raced, shifting from one thought to another, debating whether he should act on the idea forming in his head.
He finally silenced his thoughts. "Dora, let’s find out the truth. We need the captain alive."
dora gave a firm nod. The two drew their weapons as Daylan commanded the Titans, "Don’t kill him — just immobilize him."
"That will be very risky, Master," Silver muttered as the Titans backed away from the captain.
"I know," Daylan replied, his gaze unwavering. "But we have to."
Without hesitation, they all charged at the captain. Outnumbered, he began to worry.
Forced onto the defensive, he focused on trying to eliminate the weaker links — Daylan and dora — hoping to shift the tide in his favor.
Daylan was furious. For the first ti in his life, every strike he made carried a single purpose — to kill, without hesitation.
Daylan carefully studied the captain’s movents, piecing together everything he’d heard about him in an attempt to uncover his ability — all while moving in perfect sync with the others as if they had fought together for decades.
In an instant, Daylan pulled back alongside Silver. He rubbed his nose and muttered,
"What is this ability? It’s unnatural, like an absurd idea."
"Yes, Master," Silver replied. "It’s called Concept. It was previously Master Margret’s ability. Their strength depends on how their leader perceives them."
"Tough..." Daylan said, tightening his grip on his dagger. "But we can do this."
"Dora, I need you to flood the area with fire. Can you manage that while healing us?"
dora dropped back and gave a firm nod in response.
Without a mont’s hesitation, Daylan and Silver charged back into the fight, rejoining the others. Giselle may have made the captain stronger — but not immortal. Their strikes were landing, and the bruises and blood trickling from his nose proved it. That was exactly what Daylan intended to exploit.
He was going to overwhelm him — give him a concept greater than the one Giselle had bestowed. And all he needed was Spiral Edge.
Daylan struck faster and harder, disrupting the perfect rhythm they had been fighting in.
He refused to slow the pace of his relentless repetition—he needed to beco faster, stronger. It didn’t matter if his limbs gave out or if his ability threatened to overwhelm him. He had to finish this before that happened.
Before long, the Titans had no choice but to fall back—Daylan had taken the fight into his own hands. His speed had surpassed theirs, and even the strikes the captain managed to dodge sent powerful gusts of wind crashing behind him.
He had beco a match for the captain in just a matter of minutes. With dora’s heat slowing the captain down and her healing keeping his limbs functional, Daylan knew he would only grow stronger with each passing mont.
With the Titans out of the fight, dora stopped healing them. Pouring every last ounce of energy into the battlefield, she intensified the flas and focused solely on nding even the smallest scratch on Daylan.
Before long, the captain’s movents had grown too slow for Daylan — he was weakening. A sudden, gentle smile ford on Daylan’s face. At first, he didn’t understand why each of his strikes felt so purposeful. But as the battle continued, it beca clear: it was because of how much he had co to care for his comrades.
Each strike landed with greater intensity, as if Astara’s pain were his own. And with every blow, his hatred for his mother deepened — for putting Astara through such agony, even if he wasn’t entirely certain his suspicions were true.
The captain delivered a sluggish strike — and sohow, it infuriated Daylan more than anything. Before he knew it, he had driven a devastating blow straight into the captain’s chest.
The impact tore through the back of the captain’s shirt and shattered the ground beneath their feet.
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