Elena opened her mouth to argue, chest heaving as she prepared a rebuttal, but she stopped herself. Mouth now closed, she looked down at the blood-slick weapon of the Warrior Nightmare had just killed. The iron blade was still pointing directly at her.
She let out a slow breath, and her shoulders dropped. "I get it."
Seth moved closer and looked at the noblewoman's face. He could see her virtue battling with the hard truth across her features. "Sparing lives hasn't ever brought me anything but trouble," he said. "They don't hesitate, and we shouldn't either."
A memory crossed his mind, taking him back to the Cave of Elements and his fight against Kaelen. He hadn't explicitly spared the Dark Assassin, but they had parted ways without a definitive finish. The decision hadn't come back to bite him—at least not yet.
Seth pushed the thoughts aside before gesturing toward the bodies scattered across the frost-covered grass and deactivating the distortion field surrounding the area. "Let's grab their pouches. We can tell Marine and the others to come and loot anything else they want."
Elena nodded and reached for her communication orb.
She still looked shaken.
Whether it was the Warrior's attempt to kill her, or their discussion, Seth couldn't tell. But despite the tension lingering in her expression, she forced herself to focus on the next step.
Good, Seth thought. Keep moving. That's all you can do.
He turned away and began walking among the fallen soldiers, eyes scanning the rigid faces. None of these combatants had displayed a baseline strength above their Rank during the fight. The odds that any of them carried a Seed were exceptionally low, but since he wasn't in any rush, he decided to make absolutely sure.
He reached into his pouch and pulled out his Seed Extractor.
He knelt beside the closest body and pressed the cold metallic ring of the artifact directly onto the soldier's chest.
A dull chime echoed from the device.
[No seed detected.]
Elena watched him from a few paces away, her brow furrowing. "What is that artifact?"
Suddenly, her green eyes widened, and her posture stiffened—she had undoubtedly just cast Identify onto the tool in Seth's hands.
"Morsh, the assassin with seven thousand contribution points, had this inside his Endless Pouch when I killed him," Seth answered without looking up, taking the device.
Elena's gaze shifted to the corpse, and some kind of realization crossed her features. "And you used that thing to harvest his Seeds after killing him?"
"Yeah," Seth answered as he moved to the next body.
"Isn't that a bit... spiteful?" Elena asked, a grimace tightening the corners of her mouth.
Seth pressed the device onto the next body. "Someone back in Asethka explicitly told me that extracting Legacies or Seeds from human bodies is generally frowned upon by people there. However, most tend to find it acceptable during wars."
Elena remained silent for a moment, watching the metallic device hum again. "...that actually makes sense, in a way."
"I guess so."
Seth slid the extractor over to the next corpse. As he waited for the reading, a dark question began to form in his mind: would he actually hold off on using this outside of a war?
If an enemy were to ambush him in the future and he was to kill them while defending himself, why should he leave a Seed behind to rot in their corpse? That would be wasteful. Besides, it wasn't like he would ever actively hunt people down to harvest them.
A moment later, Seth finally lifted the device from the last corpse's chest and slipped it back into his pouch. His gaze shifted over to Elena. "What was that ice orb spell, by the way? Seemed powerful."
Elena looked up at the sky, her fingers tracing a line along her ebony staff. "It was Frigid Orb. And it is significantly stronger because of my... um, Revelation."
She means her Legacy, Seth realized.
He followed her gaze, and his eyes landed on the smoky silhouette of the Spirit hovering far above the plain. Seth felt the same hesitation; speaking openly about their Legacies under that entity's watchful eye seemed risky.
Its 'impartiality' felt like complete bullshit to him.
Seth walked over to a cluster of bodies to pick up their Endless Pouches while trying to remember the exact slowing effect of Elena's detonating spell. It had been intense, sure, but was the difference with any standard spell that meaningful? Was it enough to rival the massive amount of baseline attributes he was receiving from Link?
"If you manage to improve its quality, that spell is going to become incredibly powerful," Seth said, resting a hand on his belt.
He deliberately kept the conversation going, since if they'd stopped there, the Spirit could become suspicious.
Elena rolled her eyes. "It's an Epic spell. Easier said than done."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Seth's lips.
He knew exactly how difficult improving spell quality was, though part of him had hoped that Elena's Legacy might somehow ease the process for her.
His time at the academy had taught him that even nobles from the Twenty Great Houses struggled to improve Epic spells, despite having access to all the knowledge available in Kastal. Most spent their entire lives using Epic spells at the same exact quality grade.
Seth had originally believed having the Primalist class and pushing his body beyond its absolute limit were the sole factors for the rapid progressions of his own spells in terms of quality.
Now he wasn't so sure.
By fighting side to side with Elena here and back in the cave of ice, he had begun to suspect there was more to it.
His Talents clearly played a role.
Whether that role was minor or significant remained impossible to say.
In a sense, it wasn't much different from Nightmare's and Colossus' potential. Certain advantages simply existed from the start, making progress easier than it should have been.
Under normal circumstances, that realization would have left a bitter taste in Seth's mouth.
He wanted to achieve as much as he could through his own raw merit, thriving against the odds by his own effort and skill.
But things were completely different now.
The war and everything looming ahead with Draeria and Volantis had rewritten his priorities. He would gladly use every single tool and every advantage at his disposal to ensure he could both make a difference on the battlefield and avenge his parents.
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In the end, Seth refrained from rushing across the Rift to slaughter every imperial soldier as fast as he could, which was what he'd done in the previous battles.
He moderated his pace, both because he refused to drag Elena into unnecessary danger and because he had already decided not to enter another Warfare Rift before the scheduled deployment of the survivors of his squad—Selena and Henry weren't going to go in without him.
Over the next two days, the Kastal detachment meticulously closed in on the imperial soldiers. They avoided forcing any direct confrontations, choosing instead to steadily apply pressure and maneuver the enemy into making fatal mistakes.
The strategy proved to be effective.
The remaining Imperial survivors eventually abandoned all attempts at ambushing and barricaded themselves inside their stone fortress while being blocked from escaping through spell-scrolls by Seth's distortion field. Unfortunately for them, thick walls alone were nowhere near enough to change the outcome.
The siege cannons Toren had given to Seth unleashed a relentless hail from a safe distance, their thunderous blasts shaking the battlefield as enchanted shells repeatedly hammered the stronghold.
While more and more stone crumbled under each explosion, Seth and the academy squads swarmed the three dozen or so remaining troops of the empire from all sides.
A chaotic symphony of warfare erupted across the inner courtyard.
Glowing arrows, destructive aetheric spells, volatile fire lances, and jagged lightning bolts flew from every direction, piercing into the smoke just as the wall made of Kastal Warriors and Guardians slammed into the panicked enemy frontline.
Seth wove fluidly around the fractured formations, Dusk Scythes humming along his arms as he reaped through the desperate survivors alongside Nightmare's tearing jaws. Colossus refrained from joining the main push this time and remained firmly stationed beside Elena, ready to intercept any Rogues or other ambushers that attempted to reach the backline.
Seth kept Lumi inside the teardrop necklace throughout the engagement. The frontline simply didn't require additional healing, and he also didn't want to risk the otter being overwhelmed by the sheer amount of allies to mend.
In no time, Kastal's squads dismantled the enemy unit, taking care of the remaining imperial troops.
Eventually, a single survivor stood trembling mere feet in front of Seth. The lightly armored Rogue bled profusely from several gashes in his mail and had a broken dagger clutched in his grip.
"We should keep him alive to buy us more time to loot all the corpses," a third-year student suggested nearby, lowering his sword.
"There's no need for that," another retorted, wiping blood from his shield. "Thirty minutes will be plenty."
Seth ignored their bickering and took a step forward to finish the Rogue himself. Yet before he could reach the man, a whistling arrow of light flew sharply from his left flank and pierced the imperial soldier through the center of his neck. The Rogue dropped dead into the dirt without a sound.
Seth looked to the left, finding Marine. The woman lowered her bow, a broad smile stretching across her face. She was almost openly celebrating the additional contribution points from the kill, as if this entire Warfare Rift was nothing more than a casual playing ground.
Far above the ruined fortress, the massive Spirit swiveled its smoky form.
"This concludes the battle. Winner: Kingdom of Kastal. The Warfare Rift will close in thirty minutes."
Seth moved Nightmare back into the spatial confines of the teardrop necklace before heading toward Elena and Colossus.
Marine came rushing in, boots kicking up dust as she tried to match his stride. "Are you mad that I killed that last one?"
"No," Seth answered, his voice flat.
"You certainly seem mad."
"I'm not."
They reached the side of the fortress, where Elena reached her hand out for the massive scorpion. "Thank you for the constant protection, Colossus. You did amazing out there."
"The pleasure is mine," the scorpion answered, resting his head in her palm.
Seth recalled Colossus into the Pocket-Realm, where Lumi was impatiently waiting for the company.
Marine stepped forward and leaned into Seth's field of view, a deep frown creasing her brow. "Why didn't you bring out that Priest-like beast people have mentioned from your previous battles?" she asked, peering up at him.
Seth barely glanced at her as he sidestepped her. "I didn't feel like I needed her assistance."
"Are you sure it wasn't because you desperately wanted to avoid showing her to me?"
Seth stopped dead in his tracks, then shot a glare at her. "Why do you always bring every single thing back to yourself when you are irrelevant to me?"
Marine's eyes widened. "I… I was just joking..." she muttered. Her playful demeanor had completely vanished from her face.
Seth swept an arm toward the blood-soaked courtyard and the bodies scattered around. "Do you honestly think this is the right place for jokes?"
The words cut through the lingering chatter. Nearby, the academy students fell silent one by one as their attention shifted toward Seth and Marine.
"Because the greedy bastard sitting on Kastal's throne—and your own grandfather—want these damn resources, hundreds of people have to die in the mud every single day."
Elena stepped forward. Concern flashed across her face as she reached for his shoulder.
"Seth—" He shifted, avoiding her hand before it could make contact. "Seth..." she repeated, more softly this time.
But he wasn't looking at her. His eyes remained fixed on Marine.
"Maybe for you and them, this war is nothing more than some grand, exciting game," Seth continued. "But for everyone else, it isn't." His gaze swept once more over the corpses littering the fortress grounds.
"Odds are they won't live to see their families again," he continued. "They'll rot in a desolated Rift because people like you and the king decided their lives were nothing more than expenses." His eyes locked onto Marine again. “And what will they get in return? Absolutely nothing.”
The members of the squads around them stared over at the trio in absolute silence. Marine swallowed hard, hand trembling slightly against her bow. "It's the Empress who is actively forcing this—"
"Oh, stop lying to yourself," Seth snapped, cutting her off. "She might play a part, but she's certainly not the only one to blame. If the king had simply given those things back, or if your grandfather hadn't stolen them in the first place, no one would be dead right now. I wouldn't have been forced to slaughter a thousand men just for the chance to end this absurd war a little sooner."
Elena closed the distance again, her hand firmly gripping Seth's forearm this time. The sudden, grounding warmth of her touch managed to force the roar in his chest to calm down.
Marine stared at him as she visibly shrank under the weight of his words. She looked genuinely unwell. "That wasn't my decision, Seth..." she answered. “But you're right.” Her eyes flickered toward the bodies close to them. “I'm sorry. What I said was inappropriate.”
Seth blinked. The admission caught him off guard.
He let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "You could very well find yourself standing in your grandfather's place one day. So instead of being sorry, just make sure you do better than him."
Seth turned away before she could answer and began to walk out of the courtyard, his boots echoing once he reached the stronghold's stone. A moment later, Elena fell into step beside him.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke. Then Seth broke the silence.
“You don't need to tell me that insulting the King and the Marshal in front of two entire squads was a terrible idea.”
“I wasn't actually going to say that,” Elena replied.
Seth glanced at her. “No?”
She shook her head. “No. I completely agree with you.”
A frown crossed Seth's face. “That's a first. You always scold me for getting myself into trouble for nothing.”
Elena smiled briefly. “I learned by now that I'm never going to change who you are.” Her eyes drifted back toward the fortress courtyard behind them. “And that wasn't for nothing.”
Seth followed her gaze.
The academy students were still standing among the bodies. Only minutes earlier, many of them had been smiling, cheering, and discussing contribution points. But not anymore.
Several stared silently at the corpses that could have been their comrades if Seth weren't there. Others avoided looking at the bodies altogether. A few remained completely still, their faces pale as they took in the reality of the carnage surrounding them.
“I think a lot of the people standing back there needed to hear those words,” Elena said. “Some of them are probably realizing the truth for the first time. You might be exactly the kind of spark people desperately need.”
Seth looked at them for a moment, then drew in a resigned breath. "Unfortunately, I will probably be forced to leave this country long before I can ever light a real fire." A bitter edge had entered his voice. “Anyway. Let's get out of here.”
He gave one final glance toward the courtyard, where the academy students and soldiers had already begun gathering the fallen equipment and stripping the bodies of their Endless Pouches. There was little point in him staying behind for the cleanup.
Elena nodded, and together they left the Rift with Escape scrolls.
They materialized in a flash of white light in the center of the neutral zone, the portal behind them humming as its swirling surface stabilized once more.
Seth kept his head lowered as he stepped forward.
He didn't so much as glance at the battle summary or the updated contribution rankings floating above the plain. The numbers had long since lost their meaning. No amount of points could bring back the dead or ease his anger.
“Father?” came Elena's voice from beside him.
Seth turned and followed her gaze toward the Kastal side of the battlefield.
Then he froze.
A group was waiting for them a few dozen feet away.
Half a dozen Royal Guards stood at the front of the formation, their polished armor gleaming beneath the sunlight and their halberds planted firmly into the dirt. They carried themselves with the absolute certainty of men prepared to throw away their lives without hesitation if ordered.
The figures standing behind the guards were far more concerning. Marshal Vancaws. Leonard Surani. Several influential nobles from the Great Twenty Houses, many of whom Seth recognized from the pre-war skirmishes in Oskon.
And at the center of the gathering, standing slightly ahead of everyone else, was a broad-shouldered man with combed, graying hair draped in regal blue and gold.
King Theron.
The man fixed his blue eyes directly onto Seth, and a slow smile spread across his face.
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