Fading Flower

Akira's pupils shrank.

His hands trembled, his breath shallow, his vision spinning. But as Sylara's body collapsed into his arms, his instincts overrode the pain.

He got up from the ground.He caught her. Held her.

His fingers tightened around her trembling frame.

"Why?"

His mind screamed.

His hands, already covered in his own blood, were now covered in hers.

She coughed weakly, her lips stained red, violet eyes half-lidded but still locked onto him.The demonic human stood there, tilting his head, watching.

"Wow... your speed just now… even my eyes couldn't keep up."

His voice held genuine fascination—and something else. A flicker of amusement.

"That was truly frightening… I take back my insults." His grin widened. "Maybe you didn't get that Guildmaster position through connections after all."

His gaze to Sylara, who lay motionless in Akira's arms.

"Who is he to you?" He chuckled. "To make you throw your life away like that?"

Akira sat there, silent.

His head was lowered, his dark hair shadowing his face. His wound still bled freely.Sylara's breathing was shallow, but her weak fingers clutched at his sleeve. She was still alive.

But barely.

"Such a pity."

The demonic human sighed, lifting his blade again.

"Your sacrifice was in vain. I still get to kill this brat."

The dark-red EVOA blade rose.

Akira didn't move.

He didn't react.

The only thing that existed in his world at that moment—was Sylara's fading warmth.

Then—

Footsteps. Rushing. Fast.

Voices—multiple.

"Faster! Faster!"

A familiar voice—Grido.

Another—Anna.

And more.

They were coming. They were near.

The demonic human clicked his tongue.

"Tch… Wasted too much time."

He twirled the EVOA blade once, considering. "I used a fair bit of energy fighting you two… I need to save some for that."

Then—his crimson eyes flickered toward the dungeon portal in the underground parking lot.He turned.Started walking.

Akira gritted his teeth.

His body screamed at him to move. To get up. To end this.

But just as he tensed, a weak hand caught his wrist.

Sylara's.

Akira's breath stilled.

He turned to her, and with nothing but a single look, he understood.His fingers clenched into a fist.The demonic human stopped just before stepping into the portal. He glanced back over his shoulder.

"Dare to enter if you wish."

His grin stretched wider, eyes gleaming with malice.

"But you couldn't handle me alone with an A-rank Star by your side…"

His voice dropped into a whisper, laced with dark amusement.

"Let alone me… and the boss monster inside."

He laughed.

Then—he stepped through.

The dungeon portal flashed.

And he was gone.

The underground parking was silent.

Except for the shallow, uneven breaths of the dying woman in Akira's arms.

The portal pulsed behind him, a dark wound in space, but the battle had already ended.

He escaped. I should chase him. But—

Akira world had narrowed to the woman in his arms—Sylara.

Her silver hair was matted with blood. Her body, usually strong and commanding, now felt so light—too light.

Her breathing was uneven. Shallow.

The underground parking lot was in ruins. Scorched walls. Bloodstains. Shattered concrete. And amidst the destruction—Akira sat there, cradling her.

Then—hurried footsteps.

Grido.

Anna.

And the others.

They froze.

Terror.

That's what their eyes reflected as they took in the battlefield—the devastation.

And then—their Guildmaster.

Barely clinging to life in Akira's arms.

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?!"

Grido's voice cracked.

Anna covered her mouth. Tears already spilling down her cheeks. The others looked away, some unable to bear it.

Grido turned sharply, pointing at a healer among the group. "𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫! With every cost now!"

"Do it now!"

The healer rushed forward.

They knelt, hands glowing a soft green, pulsing with magic.

Sylara's body shimmered under the healing light.

Akira held his breath.

The magic flickered.

Then—failed.

The healer's eyes widened. He pressed his hands harder, pouring in everything he had.

Nothing.

A second attempt.

Nothing.

A third—

Nothing.

The healer's face twisted in confusion. Sweat dripped down his forehead.

"I—" He swallowed hard. "I'm too weak. I—I can't heal this kind of injury."

He hesitated, eyes flicking toward Grido. "There's dark energy in the wound… I can't remove it."

"Try Again!"

Grido's shout rang out, almost desperate. His fists trembled.

"Try! Try! Try Again!"

His voice broke.

No one moved.

The healer clenched their fists and stepped back, defeated.

Akira sat silent.

Still.

The weight in his arms suddenly shifted.

Sylara's weak fingers tugged at the healer's sleeve.

Her violet eyes, dim yet unwavering, looked up at him.

"𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩."

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Don't waste your time and energy."

The healer flinched. Took a step back, defeated.

The others turned away, some with tears in their eyes.

Sylara exhaled softly, her eyes shifting—locking onto Akira.

And then—she saw it.

His Face and what she saw—Shook her.

She had only ever seen two emotions on his face before.

Indifference.

And rage.

Nothing else.

But now—

Now, she saw something else.

Sadness.

Not just sadness.Something deeper.Something unbearable.

Guilt.

Her lips trembled as she forced out a question, her voice weak, fragile.

"Why are you… getting sad… for someone like me?"

She struggled to breathe.

"You barely… even know me."

A faint, broken smile tugged at her lips.

"That's so… unlike you."

She coughed. More blood spilled from her lips.

Akira just stared.

His grip on her tightened.

His jaw clenched.

Because he couldn't.

Because what words could possibly exist—

For the woman who had just given her life for him?

Sylara's trembling fingers barely held onto Akira's wrist. Her grip was weak—so weak—but she refused to let go.

"Speak to me…" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Akira's fingers twitched. His lips parted—but no words came out.

"Don't make that face."

Sylara tried to chuckle, but it came out ragged, broken.She blinked, her vision blurring.

"At least… let's finish our conversation… from the restaurant."

Akira's hands, still stained with her blood, tightened around her.

His heart pounded. His throat tightened.

Even the healer who had failed to save her had his head down, teeth digging into his lip, his hands shaking.

Sylara let out a breathy laugh, barely a whisper.

"I don't want to go to the afterlife… in silence."

She swallowed hard, forcing the last of her strength into her fading voice.

"Hah… I'd hate that…" - Her violet eyes fluttered.

Akira's **white pupils—once glowing with Soul Infusion—**had faded back to darkness.

He inhaled.

Then finally—

He spoke.

"Tell me…" his voice was low, hoarse. "What can I do for you?"

Sylara's eyes widened—just slightly.

She had never seen him like this.

Never heard his voice like this.