A short while after the battle had ended, Misaki walked silently through the ruined remains of the city. Dust drifted through the air, and rays of sunlight pierced the shattered buildings, casting long shadows across the debris. Everything around her bore the scars of combat—from cracked walls to fires that had only just been extinguished. She breathed slowly, trying to steady herself amid the devastation.
Misaki came to a halt and said quietly as she surveyed the ruins,
"This situation… isn't good."
The map on her hand replied calmly,
"True… especially since Zeralion hasn't experienced a monster attack in years. Who would've expected one to happen now?"
Misaki asked,
"How do you think this happened?"
"Dark-energy monster attacks occur when negative emotions accumulate among ordinary humans in one place. Those emotions create a gate through which the monsters enter this world."
"You mean… there were negative emotions concentrated in this area?"
"Not just any emotions," the map answered. "They were intense enough to allow this many monsters to emerge and spread across the entire city."
Misaki asked uneasily,
"Could this have happened because of me… when I fought the thief?!"
"Possibly… but that alone wouldn't be enough to cause an explosion of monster swarms of this scale."
"Then what would?"
"I don't know."
Misaki fell silent.
"Anyway," the map continued coldly, "you said you wanted to go to the old woman's house, didn't you? Let's keep moving and forget about what happened for now. This is the most important district in Zeralion—it won't take more than three days for it to return to normal."
"That's not the only thing bothering me…" Misaki began.
Before she could finish, the map interrupted,
"You're not thinking that this is your fault, are you?"
"That's not what I was going to say—"
The map cut her off again.
"I don't care what you were going to say. My role is to guide you, not to act as your therapist or teacher. If you want directions to the wishing well near the old woman's house, then walk quietly."
Misaki sighed.
"Alright, alright… no need to exaggerate like that."
As she walked through the rubble, she overheard a passerby whispering to his friend,
"Did you see the one who fought those monsters…? I've never seen someone that strong before."
His friend replied in awe,
"Yeah… it was almost like… something from another world. It only took him moments to wipe them all out. I can't forget that glowing orange hair."
The instant Misaki heard the description of glowing orange hair, her foot froze mid-step, as if the ground itself had anchored her in place. Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and a brief glint flashed through her eyes—a mix of shock and sudden certainty.
"Did you really see him? I barely even caught a glimpse of his cloak."
"To be honest, I'm not sure… but his hair color was unforgettable."
Misaki whispered inwardly, her voice tinged with disbelief:
…Do they mean him? Ryuzaki Niramaro…?
Before she could sink deeper into the thought, the map's irritated voice rang out,
"Are you planning to take root there or what?"
Misaki blinked rapidly, as if snapping out of a brief dream.
"Ah—no, no. I was just… thinking."
"Think later," the map said, shaking irritably atop her hand. "Now we move. We don't have time to waste standing in the middle of rubble."
Misaki took a deep breath, forcing the thought away.
"Alright… let's continue. Grandma's house isn't far."
She resumed walking, relying entirely on the faint glow of the map guiding her through unfamiliar paths. As the streets widened and the debris faded behind her, the buildings became more orderly—almost as if she had entered a different part of the city, one barely touched by the attack.
"The old woman's house is close," the map said. "We'll head east after this turn. It's your first time in her district, so don't be surprised if it feels different."
Misaki lowered her gaze, thinking aloud,
"But… why did she suddenly ask me to visit her? I barely know her—we only met once."
"I don't know," the map replied practically. "Why didn't you ask her when you decided to play the hero?"
Misaki frowned.
"I wasn't playing anything! I just didn't have time to ask her then."
"Sure, sure."
She continued onward, observing the peaceful homes bathed in light. There were no signs of battle here, as if the attack had never reached this side of the city. That alone eased her steps, the tension she'd carried for minutes finally loosening.
After a few more minutes, the map stopped and lit up a small marker by the roadside.
"Here. This is the house."
Misaki looked up at a small wooden home—simple and unremarkable—surrounded by short trees and carefully tended flowers. The place felt unfamiliar… yet a sudden sense of calm washed over her the moment she saw it.
"So… this is it. I can't believe I made it."
"Without me, you'd still be walking three streets in the wrong direction."
"That's probably true. Thank you."
Misaki inhaled deeply, closed the map, and slipped it into her bag. She stepped toward the door slowly, preparing herself to meet someone she barely knew.
As she raised her hand to knock, countless questions raced through her mind—but before her knuckles touched the handle, the door swung open swiftly. The old woman stood there, calm and smiling, as though she had been waiting all along.
"Welcome, Misaki."
"Ah!" Misaki jumped back in surprise, but quickly relaxed when she saw the warmth in the woman's smile and the kindness in her wise eyes.
"You came back safely… that's all that matters," the old woman said, gently taking Misaki's hand, as if reassuring herself she was truly standing there.
Misaki smiled, a wave of relief washing over her.
"Thank you for welcoming me."
The old woman led her inside. Misaki's eyes wandered as she took in the room—it was warm and lively. Wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with small bottles, boxes of herbs, strange spices, colorful crystals, and jars containing various magical ingredients.
A soft ticking from an old wall clock created a gentle rhythm, while cups and metal tools reflected the warm light, giving the space a comforting sense of life—as though every corner was quietly breathing.
"Sit here," the old woman said, pointing to a cushion before a low table.
Misaki sat as instructed while the old woman prepared tea. Moments later, she returned with a small pot emitting bluish-violet steam, its rare fragrance filling the room with tranquility.
"Drink this."
Misaki accepted the cup, staring at the strange blue vapor.
"What is it?"
"Temporal Sapphire Flower Tea. It will help you heal."
She wrapped her fingers around the warm cup, the heat soothing her hands. After a brief hesitation, she took a careful sip. The taste was floral with a hint of natural honey.
What truly surprised her was what followed—a gentle warmth spreading through her chest, as if something heavy had begun to melt away. The lingering aches from battle faded, and the small cuts on her arms began to close before her eyes, as though time itself was accelerating within them.
The tea didn't just heal her body—it eased the mysterious pain in her chest.
"It's… amazing," Misaki whispered, eyes shining. "Thank you, Grandma."
The old woman nodded, then glanced at Misaki's torn, blood-stained clothes.
"Before we talk, look at you… your clothes are ruined, and the dust of battle still clings to your face. Why don't you bathe first? I have warm water ready—and clean clothes for you."
Misaki looked down at herself for the first time since the battle.
"Are you sure? I don't want to trouble you…"
"Trouble?" the old woman laughed gently. "You're my guest. Everything I do is out of care."
Seeing Misaki still hesitate, she added,
"The bath is at the end of the hallway. I'll leave clean clothes on the stool."
At last, Misaki nodded.
"Thank you… that's very kind of you."
She walked down the corridor, fatigue heavy in her steps, and entered the simple wooden bathroom. Steam rose from the warm water, scented faintly with herbs. At the center sat an old bathtub filled with inviting heat. On a nearby stool lay a soft blue cotton dress and a neatly folded towel.
"Did she prepare this in advance…?"
Misaki undressed and glanced at the dim mirror—dust and blood stained her skin, but what caught her attention most was the deep exhaustion in her blue eyes.
"It really was a harsh day…" she sighed.
She slipped into the water. The moment the warmth embraced her, the tension in her shoulders unraveled. Yet as her body relaxed, her mind replayed recent events.
She remembered the moment an attack nearly struck her—when she couldn't stop it. She saw what would have happened if that person hadn't intervened.
The thought wasn't dramatic—just cold analysis.
"If he'd been one second later… could I have stopped it?"
She paused.
"Maybe… or maybe not."
It wasn't death she feared, but the sudden fragility she'd felt. Her chest tightened. She lightly slapped her cheeks—not in punishment, but to halt the spiral.
"What's done is done… If I'd been at full strength, I would've defeated them all myself. Yes… that's how it would've gone."
A faint smile touched her lips as she allowed herself a mental truce. She relaxed again, letting the warmth restore her.
When she finished and donned the cotton dress, she looked into the mirror once more—her face clearer, her eyes bright again. The smile she wore wasn't just a mask… it was the beginning of balance returning.
She stepped out, steam trailing behind her. Her damp blue hair draped over her shoulders, droplets catching the light.
As she entered the living room, the old woman smiled.
"That's much better. You look like yourself again."
Misaki sat where she had before.
"Thank you… truly. Without you, I wouldn't have recovered so quickly. I owe you a great deal."
She bowed respectfully.
"No need," the old woman replied. "I should be thanking you for defeating the monsters."
"What I did was my duty," Misaki said firmly. "But you gave me special treatment—that's something I can't accept lightly."
"You're very kind, Misaki… but there's nothing I want from you. At least, not yet."
"I understand. If you ever need anything, please tell me."
The old woman nodded before asking,
"Now tell me—how was your battle?"
Misaki recounted everything, from the monsters' appearance to the mysterious man's intervention. She spared the smaller details, recounting events as they unfolded.
"You're truly remarkable," the old woman said sincerely.
Misaki scratched the back of her head shyly.
"I don't think so…"
"How could you not be? You faced that many monsters and survived despite your exhaustion. Your talent is exceptional for your age."
"Thank you very much."
After a pause, the old woman's tone shifted to curiosity.
"Who taught you to use Ana to this level?"
"My brother, Rain. I only spent six months with him when I was seven, but he taught me a lot."
The old woman froze.
"Six months?! You mastered reinforcement, summoning, and control in just six months—at seven years old?!"
"…Does it normally take longer?"
"Of course! Summoning alone takes over three years!"
"Oh… I see… hehe."
She sighed, smiling nostalgically.
"I should've known. Rain could turn an ant into something stronger than an elephant if he wished."
"You know my brother well?"
"Of course. He was my student… before becoming a hunter."
"…What?"
Silence filled the room.
"Yes. He came to me with immense raw power—but no patience. He learned frighteningly fast."
"That… sounds like him."
"He pushed you forward so quickly because he didn't want you to experience what he did."
"Was he in danger?"
"He was very close to losing himself."
"…He never told me."
"Why would he tell his little sister?"
Silence fell once more.
"Let's leave that for now," the old woman said gently. "Everything has its time."
Then she asked,
"Do you know who saved you?"
Misaki hesitated.
"Not exactly, but he told me his name—"
Click.
The sound of a door opening echoed down the hallway.
A chill crept into the room. Shadows stretched across the wooden floor.
From the darkness came a calm voice:
"I'm back."
Misaki stiffened, her heart racing.
The old woman smiled.
"Welcome back… Niramaro."
And in that moment, Misaki realized—the answer she was about to speak… was standing right before her.