Daylight

Luferin flinched as if she had just been caught doing something unusual. Seeing Sterix's unblinking eyes, she thought he was quietly looking at her, little did she know that Sterix was somewhere else at the moment—a place so dark that nothing around him seemed to exist.
“I—I didn't see you there…” Luferin mumbled awkwardly as she hid her exposed hand behind her back, the thread trembling with the motion of her tensed fingers.
No reply came from Sterix. Nothing at all.
“...Huh?” Luferin uttered. “Is he… not alive?” she wondered, her voice dropping slightly, mimicking a whisper.
She searched the area with her eyes, studying the surroundings to see if anyone else was there—with the exception of her sister, of course. But all she could find was Sterix, Flora, and Lree, which meant Drizzle had to be somewhere with Elinous.
She approached Sterix to confirm if he was still breathing. Reaching him, she could tell instantly that Flora was dead, yet as for Sterix, he seemed to still be alive, only entirely unresponsive.
She pressed her bare fingers just below Sterix's nose, checking his breath. It was warm, though it came out unevenly. She then shifted her hand, pressing it against his chest. His heart rate was normal, though there was a slightly longer gap between the beats.
In the middle of doing this, she glanced at his face with a focused expression, noticing that Sterix was, in a way, watching her—even though he couldn't actually see her or feel anything she was doing.
Luferin then grabbed one of Sterix's hands, studying his pulse.
Luferin was a professional at this kind of thing. She was a Holy Knight, but not of a combat-focused class; her skills were far more useful when it came to medical treatment. Though she was just one of many people who possessed such knowledge, so she never considered it anything special.
A moment later, she went back to her horse, tying a piece of greenish fabric to its tail. It was a notice to the others that she had found the heroes, though the color itself signaled that they were not in a very appealing condition.
“Get moving,” Luferin said, and the horse immediately rushed off.
Watching the horse make its way back, she pressed two of her fingers to her mouth and let out a loud whistle that rang through the air for nearly ten seconds before fading away.
Then, she turned back to the crater, staring toward its far east—the exact position where the glowing thread had halted. There was still no movement, and seeing the condition of the others had left Luferin deeply uncertain of whether her sister was still alive.
Nonetheless, she descended back into the crater, navigating her way toward the opposite side. Sterix and the others remained behind her in the depression, left waiting for the retrievers to find them.
The first things Luferin came across upon climbing out of the crater were bodies buried under the dust; she couldn't tell if they belonged to knights or demons, but that wasn't her current concern.
Walking a few paces further, she stepped on something soft. Just like Sterix, she had found Drizzle's wing—but to Luferin, it looked like it could have belonged to a fallen demon. Her reasoning was that the wing itself wasn't the right color; it seemed dark and crimson, resembling Drizzle's wings only in its size and the sparse, brownish colors scattered across it.
She raised her hand once more, the intricate markings appearing followed by the crest of the crossed swords. The thread descended again, this time stopping right in front of her, where Elinous's body lay burned—the very same body Sterix had found.
“...It can't be… No.” Luferin just stood there, dazed, her eyes widening as she looked down at Elinous's unmoving body. The thread quickly faded right after showing its path, its job completed. The markings on her hand did the same, vanishing from her skin.
***
***The sun was approaching its highest peak, and birds flew in every direction as the capital city of Biua brimmed with life. Children played tag in the streets, unbothered by the harsh realities of the world. They ran with wide smiles on their faces, giggling as they sprinted past.
“You're it!” one of them shouted.
“I'm going to get you!” another chimed in, causing the rest to scatter and run away.
Knights on horseback moved through the city streets, while others patrolled on foot, swords sheathed at their hips as they minded their own business.
“I spent all my cash last night,” one groaned to his companion.
Occasional laughter bloomed here and there. Nearby, a daring thief snatched a pouch from one of the walking knights and bolted, sending a pair of guards chasing after him in a sudden, noisy scramble.
Elsewhere, women walked freely through the marketplace, browsing stalls and inspecting both necessary and unnecessary materials.
“I'll take this one,” a lady said, pointing to a vendor's stall.
“Sure thing, lady. That'll be twenty Veyr.”
“But I only have fifteen Veyr.”
“Sorry, but this is one of my highest quality fish. I can't just give it away for that much.”
“Hey, lady! I'll give you two of my fish for less!” a rival merchant called out from across the aisle. “My catch is way fresher than his!”
“Really?”
“Hey! I'll go shopping over there then,” the lady threatened, turning her head.
“Fine, fine, you win,” the first vendor sighed. “You can take it for less.”
“Thanks… here's ten Veyr.”
“What? Wait—”
“Nice doing business with you!” she cheered, quickly walking away.
“Hey!”
Biua was indeed peaceful. Everyone could do whatever they wanted, completely secure in the knowledge that they were safe.
The capital itself was surrounded by massive walls that kept enemies out and the citizens in, protecting them from any unannounced threats from the outside world. The city within the walls was divided into four districts—the North, South, West, and East districts—each possessing its own gate to the outside world. Yet despite the divisions, there wasn't much difference in the way people lived across them.
At the South district gate, two knights pulled down on the massive chains hanging above them, forcing the mechanism to slowly open. The heavy groan of spinning gears echoed through the passage until a sudden, sharp clank locked them into place. The gate then smoothly shifted upward, revealing Maromus and the others as they approached.
Most of the citizens near the gate halted, curious to see why it was being opened, but after catching a glimpse of the arriving knights, the crowd fell completely silent, mirroring the heavy quiet the riders had brought with them.
Many began to figure something was wrong; this was entirely unusual. Wasn't a victorious war supposed to be celebrated? Why were these knights so silent, their faces cast down toward the ground? Where was the rest of the army? Did they volunteer to stay behind, or were they simply running late?
The knights and wagons entered one after another, until all twenty wagons had passed through, leaving nothing behind.
Luferin looked dark and utterly exhausted as she trailed a specific wagon—one bearing six bodies covered by a white fabric to hide the faces of the dead from the public. Just ahead of her, Sterix sat, or at least appeared to sit, in the wagon she was tracking.
More civilians started gathering around the area to see what was happening. Their expressions were a mixture of worry, anticipation, and overwhelming curiosity.
The chains were pulled once more, and the gate closed in the exact same manner it had opened.
Of the three thousand one hundred and five people who had marched out to war, only a single person survived. A mere three hundred and one bodies were retrieved from the field; the rest were left behind, either missing or far too damaged to be recovered.
Nonetheless, those left behind were still properly cared for. The retrievers made sure to gather the personal belongings and valuables from the dead to return to their families, though the corpses themselves were burned to ash—a necessary precaution to prevent them from rising again once the rot got to them.
The heroes were in the worst condition of all, yet they were still brought back. However, Drizzle's body was completely missing; the only definitive proof of his demise was the severed wing he had left behind. Even so, after combing through the battlefield for a short while longer, the retrievers had uncovered a stray hand, which they strongly suspected belonged to him.
Through it all, the retrievers moved through the city streets without ever uttering a single word.