— Millennia of Malice Laid Bare —
The malignant energy around Travis surged once more.
His red robes whipped violently as if torn by a gale, the vibrant hue draining away in an instant, replaced by pitch black.
The beautiful facade crumbled completely within a second—
Hair disheveled, eyes a deep, soulless black, skin wrapped in layers of blood-like dark mist. This was his true form:
A monster sustained for a millennium by obsession and corrupted residual energy.
The black-clad figure showed no fear, her long blade cleaving the air.
Black against white, corruption against purity. The two forces tore and collided mid-air, shockwaves making the atmosphere tremble.
In barely three minutes—
The fight ended abruptly.
The black-clad figure stood before me, blade in hand, her back as still and solid as a mountain.
The foul energy in the air slowly dissipated, revealing Travis kneeling on the floor.
His form was covered in glowing golden fissures—
Each one a slash mark left by that blade.
My heart, which had been in my throat, finally settled, and I let out a slow breath.
"That... what kind of blade is that..."Travis shuddered, looking up, genuine fear flashing in his eyes for the first time.
The figure did not answer. She merely raised her blade, pointing its tip between his brows.
"No! Please!"Travis's voice broke into a sob. "I haven't seen Aya yet! I waited a thousand years! Just let me see her one last time! Let me see her—!"
The figure spoke.
Her voice was as cold as frost on a blade.
— A woman's voice.
"You are not worthy to see Aya."
The moment the words fell—
Blade-light exploded like a river of stars.
"Wait—!" I shouted, but it was too late.
Golden light transformed into chains, binding Travis's spirit layer by layer.
Accompanied by a hair-raising scream, his form was torn apart into countless specks of light, scattering and drifting downward.
— Spirit scattered.
— A thousand years of obsession, dissolved into nothing.
---
— The Healer's Spirit Returns —
Only then did the black-clad figure turn around.
I froze.
She looked to be in her early twenties, with features as exquisite as a painting, stunningly beautiful.
Had I not witnessed her extinguishing that malice with a single strike, I would never believe such a delicate appearance could wield such lethal power.
She stared coldly at me. "What? Do you pity him?"
I looked at the lingering motes of light and said quietly, "Not pity... It's just that after waiting a thousand years, he couldn't even get a final glimpse. It is somewhat—"
"Tragic?"She let out a light, scornful laugh, sharp as a blade's edge.
"You think he loved Aya?"
Her eyes were filled with contempt.
"Aya was the daughter of a medical family. But what emperor? What court painter? The truth is simple—her father commissioned Travis to paint her portrait. He developed a delusional obsession. When his proposal was rejected, he turned vicious.
He poisoned Aya, then used the Skinbound Resurrection to seal her residual spirit into the painting, forcing his own living spirit into her form.
His so-called 'love' was nothing but a ruthless desire for possession."
My mind reeled. "How... how do you know this?"
The woman in black replied calmly, "Aya told me herself."
"Aya?" I couldn't help raising my voice. "But the Triple Thunder fell, the painting was destroyed... How could she still—"
"See for yourself."
I followed her gaze—
Where Travis had dissipated, a woman in red robes lay softly, now slowly pushing herself up.
That figure, that aura—
It was Aya.
"How is this possible?"
"The Skinbound Resurrection succeeded," the woman explained. "But when the thunder fell, Aya chose to abandon her physical form, to wander as a lone spirit, rather than share a body with Travis. The form you saw earlier... contained only him.
Now that the corruption is gone, her spirit naturally returns to its rightful place."
Before she finished, Aya had steadied herself.
Her expression was serene, her demeanor gentle and dignified, radiating a soft grace.
She bowed gracefully towards us. "My thanks to you, sir. And to you, my lady."
Though her features beneath the veil remained unseen, her noble bearing alone was deeply moving.
The black-clad woman raised a hand.
"Now that you are free, I offer you a special ceremonial garment.
It will allow you to walk among the living as one of them."
A talisman paper ignited, transforming into light that settled upon Aya's shoulders.
Her red robes shimmered slightly, as if infused with a new spirit.
Aya turned gently, her veil shifting. Her voice was soft and clear.
"Thank you for your great kindness, madam. This humble one has no way to repay you."
"You are a healer." The woman's tone was even. "In the days to come, do good deeds, aid the world and save lives. That is the best repayment."
"Aya will remember."
Their voices intertwined in the air, like an echo from a thousand years ago that had never truly faded.
But my mind was already tightly gripped by another matter.
I clasped my hands in a formal salute and asked earnestly:
"Madam, I am deeply grateful for your aid today. Might I ask—"
---
— The One Recognized —
Before I could finish, the woman in black took a step aside, her gaze cool and penetrating.
"There are some words I wish to speak with you alone."
Jasper understood immediately, gesturing for the others to move away.
Selene glanced back one last time before leaving, the residual power of that blade-strike leaving a chill in her heart.
The black-clad woman added softly:
"Do not worry. I hunt demons. I do not harm people."
Footsteps faded. The space suddenly felt vast and empty.
I was about to ask my question when she suddenly dropped to one knee.
The movement was crisp, solemn, like the completion of a ritual rehearsed countless times.
"Young Master."Her voice was low. "I am Valeria. You... truly do not remember me?"
That form of address landed like heavy ink on a blank page.
I was stunned for a moment.
Young Master?
I grew up in the countryside, raised by my grandfather. My so-called 'abilities' were merely the few taboos and spirit-sensing basics he taught me.
As for my origins—I was just a child 'called back' from the brink.
I steadied my breathing. "You've mistaken me for someone else."
"Impossible."She looked up, her tone certain. "Appearances can change, years can pass, even voices can be disguised. Only the soul remains constant."
"I have been searching for this aura... for twenty-one years."
Twenty-one years.
Exactly the length of my life.
Grandfather once said I was born 'lifeless,' and he used a secret art to call a spirit into my body.
What if that soul... was never whole to begin with—
Valeria stood, her voice dropping slightly.
"You were once from a lineage of the Meta Order."
She did not embellish, merely stated a fact.
"In your past, your insight was profound, but your actions were too severe. That calamity... none were meant to survive."
She paused.
"The Mistress could not bear for you to carry that karma further. With her final breath, during the Soul Transference, she preserved only a fragment of your soul and a vital remnant remained—just enough to sustain reincarnation."
My chest tightened slightly.
Suddenly, everything that had never made sense... did.
"I remember none of that."I said calmly. "But I believe you."
The air grew quiet.
A slight tremor passed through Valeria's eyes.
After a long moment, she said softly:
"I understand."
Then, she drew out an ancient-looking leather-bound book and offered it with both hands.
"This is the manuscript you left behind. The Meta Codex."
"I dared not study it, nor have I practiced from it. It has only ever been... preserved material."
When I took it, nothing extraordinary happened.
It was just a book.
A book waiting to be recorded in.
She then gestured slightly behind her. The jet-black long blade stood silently, its aura completely sealed away.
"The God-Slaying Blade remains."
God-Slaying Blade?
— No wonder Travis kept asking about it before his end.
"But now, it has nothing to do with you."
I nodded.
Indeed, it did not.
The person I was now hadn't even crossed the threshold of the Meta Order.
I was just a living archive.
A recorder who happened to stand on this side of the boundary.
---
— Shared Roads Beyond the Boundary —
"Let's go. Your friends are waiting." Valeria sheathed her sharp presence, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "What was spoken tonight need not be told to anyone. Keep it within your heart."
We walked side by side back to the bar's main hall.
Valeria turned to Aya. "Young lady, what are your plans now?"
Aya shook her head slightly, her eyes reflecting the neon lights, like a traveler newly arrived in the human world.
"This era... I do not yet know how to adapt."
Valeria considered for a moment. "If you have no objection, you may travel with me. I might help you practice medicine once more—to heal others, and to heal yourself."
Aya was taken aback, then gave a soft nod.
Under the lights, their silhouettes stretched long—
One, the lonely spirit of a healer crossing a millennium;
The other, a swordswoman of the Meta Order who had guarded her former master for twenty-one years.
The threads of fate had somehow intertwined here, making them fellow travelers.
I looked back and saw Jasper and "Bella" leaning close together, speaking in low tones.
Under the lights, their silhouettes stretched long—
different origins, different forms,
yet moving forward along the same road.