Chapter 122: The Symbol-Fist and Sally’s Intervention, I am Melinda.

The fight intensified.

Sakolomé was panting, blood at the corner of his lips.

Grijan... kept becoming faster, stronger, more unpredictable.

Rivhiamë (serious, in his mind):

— You have to strike with something he cannot copy.

Something that does not replicate.

A unique blow.

Sakolomé closed his eyes for a moment.

He inhaled. Slowly. Deeply.

He saw the faces again.

Salomé shouting "big brother" from the other shore of despair.

Gaïus, lost and found.

Sally, always there despite the fear.

Bakuran, faithful, even in the darkness.

He opened his eyes. A different light shone within him.

Sakolomé (calm, almost solemn):

— This blow is not to win.

It is for those I have sworn to protect.

It is to change the future.

He charged forward.

Killer Punch: Hishō no Omoi

(The Soaring Oath Fist)

His fist shone with a golden gleam and a wave of memory, promise, pure love covered him.

A breath rose around him, like a breeze born from mingled past and future.

Grijan, opposite, briefly widened his eyes.

BOOM!

The fist struck.

An explosion of light spread across the sky.

The world seemed to vibrate, suspended.

A moment... there was silence.

Then... laughter.

Grijan, standing amid the smoke, sneered.

His chest bled slightly... but he smiled.

Grijan:

— I felt your love, Sakolomé.

I tasted your oath...

And now...

I can adapt to it too.

His veins briefly glowed golden, then the energy was swallowed.

Absorbed.

Sakolomé (stunned):

— Impossible... even that, he integrated?

Rivhiamë (stunned):

— It's beyond adaptation...

He even digests intentions...

Grijan, arms outstretched, roared:

— YOU GAVE ME A GIFT, SAKOLOMÉ!!!

AND I WILL RETURN IT TO YOU WITH INTEREST!!!

He charged, faster than ever.

Sakolomé, surprised, instinctively stepped back.

But he was about to be hit, he knew.

And suddenly, CLANG!!!

A swift crossed strike deflected Grijan in one blow.

Two shimmering blades had sliced the air.

A female figure stepped in, calm, upright...

Sally.

She held a sword in each hand.

A black blade with blue reflections, crackling with a strange aura.

Sakolomé (shocked):

— ...Sally?!

Grijan, on the ground after the impact, stood up growling:

— What the hell is this bitch...?

Sally, without a word, advanced slowly.

Her gaze was serious, determined.

Sally (calmly):

— You adapt to strength, will, love...

But I will cut what you feel, and what you think you understand.

Grijan (threatening):

— You think you can touch me with that?!

Sakolomé, stunned, watched Sally position herself in front of him.

Sakolomé:

— Since when do you...?

Sally (without looking):

— There are things one does not say.

But now, you are no longer alone, Sakolomé... my friend.

She brandished the two blades.

Sally:

— It's my turn... to defend this future.

Sakolomé stood up unsteadily, short of breath. He looked at Sally, still standing, swords in hand, but visibly weakened.

— Sally... You're not in a condition to fight.

You already drew too much energy during the last confrontation.

But she did not turn immediately. Her back straight, frozen as if carrying an invisible burden.

— Sakolomé...

There is something I must tell you.

I... I can no longer hide it.

Her voice trembled slightly. Sakolomé raised an eyebrow, intrigued, then approached slowly, more attentive than ever.

— Oh yeah? And what is it?

Then, Sally slowly turned her head. Her eyes were misted with tears, shining with an ancient glow. And in a breath mingled with emotion and truth, she said:

— Sakolomé... I am Melinda.

A shock.

The name echoed within him like a thunderclap.

— ...Melinda?!

No... it's... it's not possible...

And suddenly, everything came back.

Buried memories overwhelmed him.

Two children laughing as they ran between the trees.

Afternoons spent clumsily learning magic.

Evenings when they told each other stories around a fire.

And that tragic day...

The day she disappeared.

Without a word. Without a trace.

Sakolomé staggered, a tear silently rolling down his cheek.

— You can't be Melinda...

It's... it's impossible...

But Sally, she stared at him. Her gaze was sad, tender, grateful.

— Sakolomé... my superhuman.

Those words struck straight to his heart.

He saw again that little girl with white hair, who once smiled at him saying:

"But Sakolomé... you are human too."

Sally continued, her voice soft, trembling with emotion:

— I am Melinda, Sakolomé.

Nothing will change that.

Even if today you see me as Sally...

My name, my heart, my soul have remained the same.

You know, there is an old proverb:

Wood can stay in water for a long time...

But it will never become a fish.

She closed her eyes, and a peaceful smile appeared on her lips. Tears gently streamed down her face.

— You see what I mean?

We cannot run from who we really are.

I am Melinda... and I always have been.

That phrase... it was that one.

The last.

The phrase that broke everything inside him.

In his mind, Sakolomé was brutally brought back to that old day.

Him, a child.

And Melinda, sitting next to him, legs crossed in the grass, her white hair tousled by the wind.

She spoke softly, with that strange wisdom she already had despite her young age.

[ — You will always remain human, Sakolomé.

Even if you become a hero,

even if you walk on the moon,

or swim to the bottom of the oceans...

You are human.

Wood can stay in water for years...

But it will never become a fish.

Do you understand? You cannot run from your true nature.]

Those words, he had buried them. Repressed them.

But today, Sally had spoken them.

Exactly.

Word for word.

And there, Sakolomé broke.

His knees buckled. He fell to the ground, unable to hold on any longer.

His trembling gaze caught Sally's, no, Melinda's.

He no longer saw the young woman she had become...

But the little girl he had loved.

White hair, blue eyes, torn green dress,

and that eternal teddy bear she hugged like a treasure.

— Melinda...

Why did you leave that day?

Why did you leave me?

Why didn't you tell me anything all this time...

Sally... Melinda... why didn't you tell me it was you?

His voice broke between each word.

It was more than a shock.

It was a reopened wound.

A lack he thought buried... and that bled again.

Sally stared intensely at Sakolomé, then wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Her voice, trembling but determined, broke the silence:

— I will tell you everything... later. But now, we have to defeat Grijan. Please, get up. Fight with me.

In Sakolomé's mind, Rivhiamë immediately intervened:

— She's right. You'll play lovers another time. For now, Grijan is still here. And he won't wait for your final confession.

Sakolomé growled inwardly:

— Easy for you to say. I'm not even sure you feel anything... emotions, memory, loss...

Rivhiamë replied, calm but sharp:

— I just think she chose a very bad time to tell you everything.

Sakolomé, still troubled, murmured inwardly:

— Do you think she's telling the truth?

— She emits no sign of lying, answered Rivhiamë. No falsified flow, no emotional distortion.

It's her, Sakolomé. It's really Melinda.

Sakolomé's breath caught for a moment.

— But then... why didn't she tell me? Why did her eyes turn gray? And her hair... pink? What does that mean...?

— That, I cannot know, admitted Rivhiamë. And I won't delve into her memory. If she changed, there is a reason. But first... let's finish with Grijan.

Sakolomé sighed deeply, still shaken, then nodded.

— You're right.

He reopened his eyes to reality, and slowly stood up, his muscles still vibrating with tension.

— Okay, Sally... or rather Melinda. We'll talk about all that... later. For now, I have to put Grijan out of commission.

But Sally stepped in, voice firm:

— "I"? You're not alone in this fight. I want to help you!

Sakolomé gritted his teeth, then declared without hesitation:

— You're not in condition. And I refuse to lose you... a second time.

The words hit Sally like a blow. Her eyes widened in shock.

— Sakolomé... I...

But her voice broke. She lowered her head, moved, unable to answer.

A few meters away, Grafay, Salomé and the others watched the scene, puzzled.

Grafay, raising an eyebrow:

— What could they possibly be talking about over there?

Bakuran, with a mocking smirk:

— Maybe she finally told him she's in love with him.

Salomé, annoyed, shot him a dark look:

— You think this is the time for jokes?

Suddenly, footsteps echoed on the scorched stones of the ground.

Clop... clop...

A familiar voice rose, full of mischief:

— Well... I see I'm not too late for the party!

Everyone turned simultaneously — Sally, Grijan, Sakolomé, Salomé — eyes wide open.

And in one voice, a stunned shout burst out:

— Mr. Ramos!!

There, before them, standing with his usual pride, was indeed Ramos. The man looked tired, but solid.

And on his shoulder, supported but alive... Yuki.

Exhausted, covered in wounds, but conscious. He was breathing.

The silence lasted a suspended second. Then hope sprang anew into the air.