Aftermath of a Battle

Anna gaze drifted to the base of a shattered wall where she had planted one of Yarte’s seeds just to check.

She expected to feel some kind of dark energy. Instead, there was nothing. Just clean, cold stone with the faintest residual shimmer of holy light.

She quickly scanned the other locations. All of them—purified. Wiped clean.

That light… she thought, a cold knot tightening in her stomach… This wasn’t part of the plan.

“What is it, Anna? What are you looking at?” Jarce asked, walking up beside her.

Anna let out a long, theatrical sigh.

“It looks like the monsters tried to corrupt this place during the attack,” she lied smoothly, gesturing at the clean stones. “Thankfully, Lady Serenya came in time and purified everything.”

Maren zipped up to Anna’s shoulder, her light pulsing with excitement. “Anna!! Did you see my brother!? He was so cool, right?! The way he just appeared and swoosh and bam! That person who’s using him is actually his human form! If we’re strong enough, we could manifest a human form to use ourself.”

Anna just nodded, a slight smirk playing on her lips. “No wonder why you have a brother complex.”

The comment made Jarce’s brow furrow in thought. “Wait a minute…” he said slowly, connecting the dots. “Brother complex? Is Ars Maren the real Ars Maren?”

Anna let out a short, dismissive chuckle, waving her hand, “Of course not, idiot,”

“I’m a vampire. I just thought it was cool to name my sword ‘Maren’ ‘cause it’s blue. But now as you can see, after I used it so much, it turned silver… So maybe not real?”

Jarce’s face relaxed into a look of understanding. “Oh! That makes sense…” he said, believing her instantly. “Because the real Ars Maren should be protecting the Sea of Eternity. If you had her, that would mean the seal on Morvane is broken.”

The casual, history-book way he said it sent a jolt of pure shock through both Anna and Maren.

Anna slowly turned her head towards the sword hovering at her side. Her face was composed, but a terrifying smile was plastered on her lips.

“Huh…?” she asked telepathically, her mental voice a low, dangerous hiss. “What seal, you airhead sword?”

Maren’s light flickered in sheer panic.

“KYAAAAA!!! I SWEAR! I DIDN’T KNOW!!! I WOKE UP IN THAT CARRIAGE JUST AS CONFUSED AS YOU! IT WAS PROBABLY ORIVANEIA! YES, IT’S ALL HER FAULT!!”

Anna’s hand shot out and gripped Maren’s hilt, her knuckles turning white.

“Don’t you dare just blame it on Orivaneia, you stupid sword!!” she seethed internally.

“UGH!! I CAN’T BREATHE!! LET GO!! MNNAA!!!!” Maren wailed, wriggling dramatically in her grasp.

Jarce, completely oblivious to the silent, murderous argument happening right in front of him, simply smiled warmly at the sight of Anna holding her sword so closely.

“It’s a good thing you two are such a perfect match,” he said fondly.

Anna smiled as she released Maren, “I suppose so. I’m lucky to have her.”

The moment of levity shattered as Destrian and Olomyar finally arrived, striding through the carnage. They looked just as battered as the barracks itself; Destrian’s single pauldron was cracked and stained with the black ichor of the monsters, and the edges of Olomyar’s fine robes were singed and smoking slightly. It was clear the attack had been on multiple fronts.

“Lady Anna,” Destrian said, his voice heavy with exhaustion but clear with gratitude. “It seems we are in your debt once again. Thank you for protecting our men.”

Anna simply gave a curt nod, her internal drama with Maren ceasing instantly.

“Lady Serenya also helped!” Jarce added, eager to give credit to the Saint.

Destrian looked towards the heavens, a flicker of awe on his tired face. “Indeed. I saw the sky ignite. That was the unmistakable light of Ars Caelus.” He then turned his gaze from Anna to Maren, who was now hovering quietly at Anna’s side. His focus, however, was on the Vice-Captain standing beside him.

Olomyar’s expression was vastly different from before. He no longer saw a problematic vampire, he saw a force of nature he had been foolish enough to provoke. He believed she was strong now—unfathomably so. But the source of that strength was a terrifying enigma.

“That sword of yours,” Olomyar said, his voice quiet and lacking its earlier arrogance. He was looking at Maren. “It is not the true Ars Maren, as you claimed. But its speed, its ability to counter my hex… it is a formidable weapon in its own right. What is it?”

“It’s just a sword I found,” she said coolly. “It seems to have a will of its own, and beside, would you trust me if I said if it’s the real Ars Maren?”

The vague answer was more telling than a detailed explanation. Olomyar’s eyes shifted from the glowing blade back to Anna. The conclusion was obvious.

“Whatever it is, you must take care of it.” He said as he leave.

With the immediate crisis over and the chain of command re-established, Anna turned away from the captains.

“The sun will be up soon,” she announced to Jarce and Apu, “Don’t follow me.”

As she walked, she noted how the destruction seemed localized to the outer sections of the barracks. The corridor leading to the logistics wing was almost untouched, their attacks were focused on breaching the perimeter, not leveling the core.

The Quartermaster’s wing, the heart of the barracks’ supply line, was built like a fortress within a fortress. It was not broken because it was designed not to be.

“Perhaps I should ruin their supply as well?”

She pushed the door to her temporary quarters open as quietly as possible.

The room was just as she had left it.

She moved silently across the room toward the bed.

With the adrenaline from the battle fading and the medicinal effect of the Grandium blood wearing off, the weight of the night finally crashed down on her. Her own eyelids felt impossibly heavy. The instinctual fatigue that came with the dawn was a powerful, undeniable pull.