Faction Wars (Part 3)

Scene Title: Dawnbreaker's Judgment – The Blade That Dares the Divine

The battlefield crackled with residual force, glowing trenches still smoking beneath fractured clouds. Echoes of light lingered in the air where Selene had moved—a trail of divine memory that defied the laws of speed, space, and human limitation.

Takayoshi lowered his arms. Ash drifted from his sleeves. His breath, though steady, now bore the slightest irregularity.

He had been pushed.

Not destroyed. Not overwhelmed.

But moved.

And in this battlefield where not even the Twelve had accomplished that… the weight of Selene's evolution carved its place into legend.

Across from him, Selene's legs trembled. Her aura had collapsed into flickering pulses, barely sustaining the skeletal frame of her Ascension form. Gold light leaked from fissures in her armor where mana channels had overloaded. Her sword dragged slightly at her side—not from submission, but from sheer expenditure.

She had given everything.

And yet, as Takayoshi raised his eyes toward her again—she still stood.

"…You shine brighter than I expected," he murmured.

Before her body could collapse, Finn and Mira stepped in front of her, back to back, forming a living barrier.

Finn's jaw clenched. "She's done her part."

Mira didn't blink. "Our turn."

The battlefield shifted. The tension no longer centered on Selene—but surged around the twins like twin storms converging.

Their blades pulsed. Not with raw power—but purpose.

Mira's right dagger burned crimson. The left, blue-white lightning. Her cloak twisted with tempestuous gales. The stone beneath her feet peeled upward as wind pressures built around her.

Finn's aura was subdued but dense, compressed to the point of implosion. His eyes gleamed like blades drawn under moonlight. His breathing was quiet. Surgical.

Takayoshi lowered his stance.

"…So you've made your decision."

He didn't wait.

Strike XIII – Voidlock Spiral.

He spun low, dragging one foot against the ground—generating a miniature vortex of distorted air and kinetic force. A ring of compressed wind and shadow expanded outward, threatening to collapse all within its radius.

Mira met it head-on, spinning into a corkscrew dodge.

"Not this time!"

She activated Sky Piercer: Heavenfall Rend, thrusting her dagger upward as she flipped. A vertical spiral of lightning detonated, dispersing the vortex and carving open a tunnel of wind above them.

Finn blurred in from the flank—dagger tip aimed for Takayoshi's side.

Takayoshi sidestepped—and instantly retaliated with—

Strike XIV – Celestial Vein Rupture.

A vertical palm strike, aimed directly at Finn's mana channels.

But—

CLANG—!

Mira intercepted the strike with a dagger parry, her body spun sideways mid-air, redirecting the pressure.

Finn twisted through the breach and slashed upward—

Takayoshi's shoulder guard tore cleanly.

He halted mid-movement.

That was the first time they had drawn blood.

And it stung.

Takayoshi's eyes narrowed behind the mask.

"…You two have evolved well."

Then—

His aura exploded outward.

Strike XV – Thousand Cross Fang.

He vanished.

Then appeared in eight locations simultaneously—each clone a blurred afterimage of him executing a different assault angle.

Finn shouted— "Split angles—Mira—"

"I see it!"

They moved.

Together, they surged forward with synchronized mirroring steps, countering each projection. Every slash they deflected sent shockwaves blasting outward. The field erupted into a chaos of trails, pulses, and air-cutting booms.

But—

He was stalling them again.

Drawing it out.

Every second their Limit Breaks ticked down. Every moment of brilliance pulled from a dying candle.

Mira's foot slipped—just slightly.

Finn's wrist angle missed by a degree.

Takayoshi caught both in a glance.

Strike XVI – Abysswalker's Brand.

A single jab—infused with cursed chi—landed on Mira's shoulder.

Her body reeled, the mark glowing red-hot before darkening. Her regeneration faltered. Her stamina halved. She gasped and fell to one knee.

Finn slashed wildly to cover her retreat, but—

Strike XVII – Sovereign Fang Collapse.

Takayoshi launched skyward, spinning once in the air before slamming down with godlike velocity.

The ground erupted.

Finn was caught in the shockwave—blown backward into a mangled pillar, blood spraying from his mouth as he coughed and crumpled.

He did not rise.

Finn crawled forward—her limbs shaking, eyes blurred with tears and rage.

Selene, behind them, tried to lift herself. Her legs folded again beneath her.

Takayoshi stood alone once more—coat torn, mask cracked.

But undefeated.

He looked down at Finn. Then over to Mira's motionless body. Then to Selene, barely breathing.

His voice was… soft.

"This is the end."

Scene Title: The Final Light – Victory's Wounded Crown

The battlefield had gone quiet. Not silent—hushed, like the world itself held its breath.

Above, the once-brilliant shields of the combat arena shimmered faintly, fracturing like spiderwebs of exhausted light. The sky—painted in the hues of magic's aftermath—hung dim and bruised, as though scorched by divine judgment.

A faint breeze passed across the ruined ground, stirring loose ash and smoke, brushing over the cracked stone and bloodied soil. It carried with it the scent of iron, burned mana, and something older—something sacred. The cost of war.

Selene knelt amidst that ruin.

Her armor—what remained of it—hung in fractured pieces around her frame. The glow of Solar Sovereign had nearly extinguished, now pulsing like the dying heartbeat of a fallen star. Her hair clung to her blood-smeared face in wet streaks, her left arm visibly limp, the shoulder dislocated. Every breath she took rattled her ribs. Her blade point dragged the dirt beside her, trembling from fingers that refused to give in.

Behind her—

Finn collapsed beside Mira, who had already fallen. His whole body trembled. His knuckles scraped the earth as he pulled himself toward her, eyes wide, mouth half-breathing prayers he couldn't finish.

"Mira… please… stay with me…"

A footstep echoed like thunder in the hollow silence.

Takayoshi descended without urgency—without mercy.

His cloak rippled behind him like an executioner's veil. His expression, half-shaded beneath the cracked mask, remained impassive. Not cruel. Not triumphant. Simply... inevitable.

He stepped beside the collapsed duo. Towered.

And without a word, raised his foot.

CRACK!

The earth shattered beneath his strike.

Mira's body burst into motes of golden light, her silhouette torn upward in a swirl of shimmering fragments.

The world watched through tens of thousands of crystal-linked vision nodes.

Entire cities went still. Kingdoms froze. Homes quieted. The divine network that broadcast the Games of Ascension flickered in stunned disbelief.

"No… she's just a child…"

"Is this… a man or a monster?"

"…Was this supposed to happen?"

Finn's scream pierced the heavens—raw and unfiltered.

"MIRAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

His hands trembled as he clawed through the dust, dragging his bloodied form toward where she vanished. Tears streamed down his grime-covered face. His breath came in jagged sobs. His soul had cracked—but his will crawled on.

And still, Takayoshi moved.

A silent step forward.

One arm raised—open palm rotating in slow precision.

"Seventeenth Form – Void Heart Execution."

His hand compressed inward—shattering the very space it passed through.

BOOM.

The strike connected with Finn's chest.

There was no scream.

Only light—a burst of it—as Finn, too, disintegrated into glittering essence.

But before he vanished, his eyes caught something.

Takayoshi's figure had flickered.

Overlapped for just a second with another.

A transparent image—older, stronger—but familiar.

"…Master…?"

Then he was gone.

Now only Selene remained.

Alone.

She stood—not tall, but defiant. Blood ran from her temple. Her sword dragged with her as she walked, staggered. Her arm barely lifted her shield—Aegis of the Dawnstar, its halo frayed, pulsing faintly.

She didn't speak. She didn't cry.

She faced him.

Takayoshi appeared in front of her in an instant.

BANG!

His foot slammed into her shield, sending her flying back. She tumbled across shattered stone and broken banners, her body ricocheting off the scorched ground before coming to a halt near the arena's outer ridge.

She gasped. Coughed blood. The shield rematerialized with a flicker of defiance—but its glow was now no more than a candle in the dark.

Takayoshi advanced.

Each step a slow toll of an unseen bell.

He reached her. Grabbed her by the throat.

Lifted her into the air like a broken doll.

The edge of the cliff yawned behind her.

The world watched in horror.

"NO!""This is too cruel!""Selene… please…"

Takayoshi's voice was soft. Matter-of-fact.

"In the end… all of it was futile, wasn't it?"

Selene's lips parted—but no sound came.

Her eyes swam. Her grip faltered.

Until—

A flicker of light in her mind.

A whisper. Old. Steady.

"Even if you fail to reach the stars—If your blade dares to rise…That alone is enough to shake the heavens."

Alter's words.

Her fingers twitched.

And then—she moved.

A desperate surge of her last breath. Her sword rose like the flare of a dying sun—and pierced his chest.

The entire world gasped.

Crystals and divine sigils flared in every viewing arena across the realms.

"She did it!""He's bleeding—!""Is it over?!"

But Selene's strength was already gone.

Her eyes blinked slowly, painfully.

The blade had pierced off center. Too shallow. Her aim, even in her final miracle, had failed.

Takayoshi looked down at the wound.

Blood dripped slowly—like ink bleeding through silk.

Then he smiled.

A quiet, warm, haunting smile beneath the shadow of his broken mask.

"Wrong spot," he said. "You'll need more practice."

Then, slowly—

He lowered her to the ground.

And took her hand.

Together—he guided the sword upward.

And helped her finish the strike.

The blade rose in a clean, luminous arc—cutting through his torso.

Light erupted.

Starlight scattered across the sky as Takayoshi's body fractured into pure radiant motes.

A final breath. A whisper of wind.

And then—

[SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT: MYTHRAL DAWN HAS WON THE TOURNAMENT.]

The arena went still.

All of Aetherreach.

All of Seraveth.

Even the heavens.

Then—

An eruption of cheers.A roar of disbelief, triumph, heartbreak, and awe all in one.

Selene fell to her knees.

Her blade planted in the ground before her.

She wept—not from pain.

But from the unbearable weight of all that had been endured… and all that had been lost… to claim this single victory.

And from the shadow behind her… a new light had just begun to rise.

Scene Title: Post-Battle Aftermath – Laughter Amid the Ashes

The golden flare of victory still shimmered faintly in the sky, its hue mellowing to amber as the sun dipped low behind the floating spires of Aetherreach. The tournament's final system message pulsed once more across the horizon in stylized crystal script:

[Victory: Mythral Dawn – Grand Champion of the Faction Wars]

The battle was over. And in its wake, silence gave way to breathless relief.

A gentle wind swept through the broad marble terraces of the victory pavilion, tugging softly at the victory banners draped from the archways. The scent of scorched mana, broken earth, and divine residue lingered faintly—but now, it was overlaid with something new:

Warm food.

Cool air.

And the sound of laughter.

Finn sat hunched over on a cushioned bench near the edge of the terrace, his face buried in his hands. His ears, cheeks, and even the back of his neck were flushed bright red—stubbornly refusing to cool since Mira had barrelled out of the teleport gate very much alive, throwing her arms around him before realizing they were very much being watched.

The moment had frozen in time. Mira wide-eyed. Finn paralyzed.

Then she screamed.

Then he screamed.

Then half the team screamed.

Now, a pillow covered Finn's face, muffling his existence.

Nearby, Mira Whiteshadow sat cross-legged, her cheeks still the color of volcanic roses, her fingers tangled in the pendant hanging from her neck. Every now and then she snuck a glance at Finn from behind her bangs, before violently redirecting her gaze back to her lap with a tiny internal scream.

"Still can't believe you screamed her name like that," Revyn drawled from where he lounged across a low table, arms behind his head. "That echo probably bounced off the moons. Sounded like a dying phoenix mid-divorce."

Mira Snowveil cackled beside him, wiping a tear from her eye. "I was halfway to summoning a memorial altar when he shrieked. Romantic and traumatic. Classic Finn."

"I WAS NOT SHRIEKING," Finn yelled, voice muffled by the pillow.

"Yes you were," Selene said calmly, limping slightly as she entered the terrace wrapped in healing wards. "I heard it from the med bay."

"I think the entire divine realm heard it," Caelum added, sipping tea with suspicious serenity. "Solien probably paused his war just to turn toward the sound."

"I WAS CONCERNED," Finn shot back, finally lowering the pillow just enough for one bloodshot eye to emerge. "SHE EXPLODED UNDER A FOOT."

Mira Whiteshadow let out a frustrated squeak and hurled a pillow at his head. "I was fine! Mostly! …Well, sort of!"

"You died, Mira," Mira Snowveil teased, "but you made it look good."

"I didn't mean to die dramatically!"

"No one ever means to die dramatically," Arinelle said, floating upside-down in a lazily conjured blossom-scented hammock, petals drifting lazily around her. "But ohhh, it looked like a fairy tale gone wrong. Soooo when's the wedding?"

Mira combusted.

"I'M SIXTEEN!!"

"Exactly," Garran grunted, arms crossed like a stone fortress. "Plenty of time to plan a good menu."

"Bet she proposes by eighteen," Revyn said, raising an eyebrow. "Odds are better than my last raid drop."

"Loser of the bet makes celebratory barbecue," Garran added.

"I'm in," Darius muttered with a deadpan expression. "Boy screamed like he lost his wife and unborn children in the same breath."

"GODS, I HATE ALL OF YOU," Finn yelled, now curled fetal on the bench.

Mira tightened her grip around the pillow pressed to her chest.

The truth was… when she saw him like that—face streaked with dirt and tears, roaring her name like the world had ended—it shook her. Somewhere between that panic and his desperate crawl to reach her body, something in her had clicked. Something quiet. Something terrifying.

Something real.

She bit her lip.

Her voice barely escaped her lips.

"…I'm not proposing," she muttered to herself.

Then added in a whisper,

"…unless he doesn't."

Arinelle shrieked with laughter, having caught it with her supernatural hearing.

"Too LATE," she sang. "I heard that!"

Mira threw the pillow at her. Arinelle caught it mid-air with magic and tucked it under her chin smugly.

The group devolved into renewed laughter.

Even Finn cracked a smile beneath the pillow shield.

Selene sat on the outer steps of the terrace, her body still sore from battle. Her sword lay beside her, and her golden hair swayed slightly in the breeze. She watched them all—this mismatched family forged through fire and chaos.

They had endured.

They had won.

And now, beneath the orange sky, with no one left to fight and nothing left to prove, they were just… themselves.

Revyn and Mira Snowveil had started bickering over something petty.

Arinelle was now attempting to hang upside-down from the terrace rafters with floral illusions shaped like flying pigs.

Darius and Garran debated the perfect meat-to-smoke ratio for celebratory meals.

Selene let herself smile—gently. Then closed her eyes.

Not far from her, Mira shifted closer to Finn on the bench. Not close enough to touch—but just enough that their elbows brushed when she leaned forward. Finn tensed slightly.

Then relaxed.

Their eyes met.

She said nothing.

But she didn't have to.

He reached down—and hooked his pinky finger around hers.

It was enough.

And above them, the skies of Aetherreach turned gold one last time.

The War of the Factions was over.

But the story of the Mythral Dawn was only just beginning.

Scene Title: Quiet Reflections – Blades of Burden

The night hung like a tapestry woven from memory—deep, starlit, and silent.

The field, once a crucible of gods and mortals, had stilled. Moonlight draped the broken earth like a funeral veil, glinting off fractured stone and the lingering shimmer of dissolved magic. No crowd remained. No cheers echoed.

Only the soft hush of the wind brushing across the distant ridge—where she stood alone.

Selene's armor had been partially shed, her outer mantle laid across a nearby boulder. Sweat still cooled on her skin, dried by the alpine breeze. Her golden hair, now unbound, stirred quietly behind her like a trailing banner of ash and flame. The crescent moon carved a silver halo around her as she stared down at her trembling hand.

Her fingers had steadied during battle. They had not flinched when she raised her sword.

But now, in peace, they quivered.

"He let us win."

The thought had rooted deep, sharp and bitter. No matter how tightly she clutched at logic or resolve, it dug inward—defiant.

She closed her eyes and let the words rise with her breath.

"We didn't win by strength. We were measured… and spared."

Her other hand tightened around the hilt at her hip. Starforged steel hummed softly within its sheath, echoing her unrest.

The air shifted behind her.

She felt it—not the sound, but the absence of it. A stillness that only one presence carried.

"I see you've recovered," she said without looking. Her voice was calm now, but the earlier tremor lingered like a ghost beneath it.

Takayoshi approached without reply at first, each step like a falling petal—silent but absolute. He stopped beside her, the quiet of his aura folding seamlessly into the night. The bandages around his wrists were freshly wrapped. His coat drifted in the wind like smoke, moonlight casting long lines across his back.

He spoke softly, his voice low, even.

"You pierced me. A clean thrust through the lung. Not many can say that."

Selene's jaw clenched.

"You guided my hand."

Takayoshi tilted his head slightly. "And still, you chose to strike."

She turned toward him at last, eyes searching.

"I needed to believe I could win."

A pause. Then, barely above a whisper—

"...But now I don't know if I ever did."

The admission cut deep. Her eyes lowered.

"I followed every form. Every footwork correction he taught me. I trained under the Sovereign himself. But in that fight... I felt like a child staring up at a tidal wave."

She looked at her palm again. No tremble this time—just the weight of understanding.

"It wasn't a duel," she said bitterly. "It was a lesson."

Takayoshi didn't argue. He didn't correct her. Instead, he stepped forward, facing the ridge with her, eyes distant.

"Do you know what your master once told me?" he asked.

Her eyes flicked toward him.

"He said, 'Strength is not something that stands above—it's something that lifts others beside it.'"

He glanced at her. "He didn't mean that as comfort. He meant it as warning."

Selene's brow furrowed.

Takayoshi continued, voice firm now. "The stronger you become, the more your existence shapes others. You don't get to decide whether they break themselves trying to match you. Only whether they have the means to survive the climb."

Silence again.

Only the wind answered. The trees below rustled in somber rhythm.

"…You speak as if you understand him," she murmured at last.

Takayoshi's face shifted. A ghost of something old passed across it. Not quite pain. Not quite pride.

"I knew someone like him," he said. "He walked ahead of all of us. Blazed a trail through fire and ruin so others wouldn't have to. But when we finally caught up…"

He didn't finish the sentence.

Selene studied him quietly. The rare openness. The strain behind the eyes. The weight of something unspoken.

"…He was gone?" she asked softly.

Takayoshi's gaze flickered.

"No. He was still there. But he had climbed so high… none of us could reach him anymore."

That landed heavier than any blow she had taken that day.

She looked away, heart tightening.

"I don't want that."

"No one does," Takayoshi said. "But that's why you need to understand—strength isn't a peak. It's a burden. Every step you climb… you carry the ones below."

Selene let out a long breath.

"I thought I wanted to stand beside him."

She turned her gaze to the stars overhead—where the light never flickered.

"But now I think I want to be the one who can hold others up."

Takayoshi smiled faintly—just a subtle lift at the corner of his mouth.

"Then you're already farther than most."

They stood together for a long while, side by side. No more words between them. Just the quiet weight of shared truths.

The wind carried the scent of victory fires from the camp below. Laughter echoed faintly—warm, human, alive.

After several minutes, Takayoshi turned to leave.

But before he vanished into the dark once more, he paused.

"One day," he said, "we'll fight again. No holding back. No restraint."

Selene looked back at him.

"I'll be ready."

He nodded once.

"And when you pierce the right spot…"

A glint in his eye.

"I'll thank you for the wound."

Then, without another word, he vanished into the dark.

Selene remained on the ridge.

Her hand no longer trembled.

She drew her blade slowly, holding it up to the stars. The polished steel reflected her gaze back at her—wounded, determined, alive.

"Not a child," she whispered. "Not anymore."

And beneath the watchful eye of the moon, Selene Virellia began her silent vows anew.

A shield not just to defend.

But to lift. To lead.

To carry forward the legacy of blades that would never break.

Scene Title: Return to Camp – Wolves and Whispers

The sun slid gently behind the mountains, casting long gold shadows across the worn fields and jagged craters of battle. Twilight descended like a hush over the world, painting the earth in shades of fire and stillness.

Selene walked beside Takayoshi down the narrow path leading to camp, their footfalls softened by ash-kissed grass. Her sword, still faintly glowing from the Sky Piercer Spiral Fang, bobbed slightly against her hip with each step. The fight was over. But its weight lingered.

They did not speak. They didn't need to.

Sometimes silence spoke louder than accolades.

From the crest of the ridge, the Mythral Dawn camp came into view—roaring with life.

Lanterns and everflames cast a welcoming glow across the valley. Laughter rose like birdsong into the evening sky. Flags snapped in the wind. Sizzling meat perfumed the air. Someone struck the chords of a celebratory ballad from a makeshift harp near the central pavilion. And along the western cliffside, a dozen recruits were dancing badly around a bonfire.

Selene slowed just enough to take it all in.

A moment of surreal stillness passed between them.

Then—

"Ooooooh! Look at that dramatic entrance!"

A sharp voice rang out like a bell.

All heads turned.

Veyna Lux stood atop a crate near the banquet tables, both hands cupped theatrically around her mouth, her crystal-threaded silver hair catching the firelight. She pointed one finger directly at Selene and Takayoshi as if presenting divine art.

"Are we witnessing a 'Warrior's Reunion'? Or are you two auditioning for next year's Mythral Dawn Calendar?!"

The crowd erupted.

Cheers, whistles, groans, and a single sarcastic "Wooooo!" from somewhere in the mess hall tent.

Selene froze mid-step, mortified. "Wh–what?!"

Takayoshi… faltered. A single blink.

His stride adjusted half a step slower. That was the most reaction anyone had seen from him in ten years.

Veyna wasn't done.

"I'm talking cover art, people! Selene—armor scuffed just right, hair billowing like dawnfire. And Takayoshi—smoldering in the background, arms folded, brooding like he's one bad day away from punching a moon."

"I do not brood," Takayoshi said, monotone.

"You're brooding right now," Revyn muttered from the firepit.

"I felt judged and aroused," Arinelle said, floating nearby with glowing butterflies on her shoulders. "Mostly judged."

Darius nodded solemnly. "I'll notify the printers."

"I want a special edition where they're standing back-to-back," Mira Snowveil declared. "With lightning in the background and the words 'We don't date—we duel.'"

"Stopppp," Mira Whiteshadow groaned, burying her face in her hands, peeking only to glance at Finn—who was blushing so hard it looked like he'd caught fire.

"I'm more worried the calendar needs a rating now," Thorne added, tankard raised. "Or divine permissions."

Garran grunted. "Print enough for the Frostfang Legion this time."

Selene flushed. "I—I was just walking next to him!"

Veyna smirked. "Uh-huh. And I 'just happen' to sparkle when I sneeze. Look, you two could've paused and made a poster. The firelight? The stride? The unspoken tension? Literal continent-level chemistry."

"I was thinking about soup," Selene muttered.

Takayoshi remained still. His face was a sculptor's dream of calm.

"You lead… a very expressive unit," he remarked to Selene, deadpan.

She covered her face. "They're not a unit. They're a traveling theater troupe that does cardio."

He actually smirked—smirked. "Then you've done well."

She blinked. "Huh?"

"They're alive. Loud. And still themselves." He glanced toward the crowd. "That matters more than the war."

And just as Selene exhaled in weary relief—

A deep rumble shook the ground.

Blazebloom, the flame-scarred bear and unofficial party warden of Mythral Dawn, emerged from the mess hall pushing a creaking wooden cart piled high with celebratory pastries, flagons, and an enormous cake layered with gold-dusted icing.

On top of the cake was a sign—hand-painted in fire rune calligraphy:

✨ CONGRATS ON NOT DYING – MYTHRAL DAWN VICTORY PARTY #74 ✨

The bear nodded once, solemnly, then handed Takayoshi… a party hat.

It was bright purple.

With streamers.

Takayoshi took it.

And wore it.

Selene blinked.

"…You're actually wearing it?"

"I was defeated in honorable combat," he replied. "This is my punishment."

Revyn dropped his ale. "He's too powerful. We can't stop him."

"Someone paint this moment," Arinelle whispered, tearing up. "I want it on a tapestry. In the throne room."

Inside the main tent, a familiar roar echoed across the field:

"GROUP HUUUUUGGGG!!!"

Selene's face paled.

Her eyes widened.

Her knees flexed.

"Run."

Takayoshi's response was simple.

"…Yes."

And like wind over water—they vanished into the crowd, dodging lunges, sidestepping stampedes, vaulting over confetti cannons and ducking under swinging banners of affection.

Mythral Dawn's laughter rang across the canyon as warriors, commanders, healers, and mischief-makers alike celebrated not just a victory—but survival, family, and the stubborn joy of being alive.

Somewhere behind a tent, Finn found Mira again.

He didn't say anything at first.

She smiled and handed him a pastry.

They sat together—quietly, knees touching.

The music grew louder.

The flames burned brighter.

And beneath the tapestry of twilight and firelight, the wolves danced once more.

Scene: The Campfire Roars, the Chaos Reigns

Selene flailed in mock protest, her cheeks still glowing crimson. "Veyna, I swear if you ever bring this up again—"

"Already painting it!" Veyna sing-songed, scribbling invisible brushstrokes in the air with a sparkly crystal quill she conjured purely for effect. "Working title: Luminous Lovers of the Battlefield."

Takayoshi gave her a long, flat stare. "…There was no love."

Revyn leaned over, whispering to Mira, "He's not denying the battlefield part."

Mira giggled as she leaned into Finn, her shoulder brushing his. "Don't worry, Selene. You're not alone. I saw the way you screamed my name earlier, Finn."

Finn's ears turned molten red.

"Wha—I—You were getting stomped on!" he sputtered. "Anyone would scream!"

"Oh?" Aurelia smirked, suddenly walking by with a roasted skewer in hand. "Then why were you crying like a tragic romance lead?"

"I wasn't crying!"

"You were," said four voices in unison—Thorne, Garran, Sorei, and Ilyra.

"Shut up!!"

The army erupted into laughter as Finn buried his face in his scarf, only for Mira to ruffle his hair with an innocent smile that didn't help his situation in the slightest.

Blazebloom plodded over, a garland of vegetables someone had apparently hung around his neck like a medal. He gently dropped what looked like an enormous slab of charred meat at Takayoshi's feet with a proud huff.

Takayoshi blinked. "…Thank you."

"Honorary Commander," Darius rumbled. "The bear's decision is final."

"Can the bear do promotions now?" Caelum asked, looking offended.

"Better than your last evaluation system," Cidros muttered.

Meanwhile, Veyna was now assembling props, having stolen Arinelle's scarf, Mira's flower comb, and some tent poles. "This is for the campfire reenactment, everyone! Thorne, you're playing the doomed shield hero. Try not to fall into the fire this time."

"I tripped once," Thorne groaned.

"It was three times. In a row."

Selene tried to sneak away into the shadows, only for Revyn to pop up next to her like a ghost. "Where you going, Sword-Star?"

"Far away."

"Too late," Veyna said sweetly, now behind her, tossing a cloak made of stitched-together sparkly tent cloth over her shoulders. "Final scene's coming up."

Selene facepalmed. "Please let me die with dignity."

"Denied," said Mira. "You're the main character now."

Scene: Mythral Calendar – Chaos, Capes, and Questionable Poses

The sun dipped low across the battlefield-turned-celebration ground, casting a golden glow over the weary but victorious warriors of Mythral Dawn. Cheers echoed, laughter rolled, and food carts were being summoned with increasing urgency by ravenous mages and rogue units alike.

Amid this chaos, someone had committed the greatest crime of all.

They had brought out... a camera orb.

"No, no, no—stand back!" Veyna Lux shouted, floating several glimmering lenses of crystallized mana in the air. "This is going into the Mythral Calendar whether you like it or not!"

"What calendar?!" Mira blinked, half-shielding herself behind Finn. "We just fought for our lives!"

"Exactly," Veyna smirked. "We are branding the trauma."

Selene, still bandaged and tired, stood beside Takayoshi at the edge of camp when the chaos truly ignited. Her eyes narrowed. "Why do I feel like we should run?"

Too late.

"LOOK AT THAT DRAMATIC ENTRANCE!" Veyna cupped her hands and shouted toward them. "You two planning to pose for the next Mythral Calendar cover? Oooooh! 'Twilight Warriors: Love Blooms at Sundown.'"

Selene's face flushed red.

Takayoshi blinked slowly. "…What's a calendar?"

"Oh no," Mira giggled, "he doesn't even know. He's a blank canvas!"

"Perfect," said Revyn from the shadows, somehow already dressed in a black turtleneck and wide-brimmed hat, pretending to be the fashion director. "We'll begin with moody lighting and brooding intensity. Takayoshi—remove one glove slowly. Look haunted."

Thorne stomped up, shirt half off, muscles flexed aggressively. "What's this about photos? Where do you want me? Top of the rock? Holding a warhammer? Shirtless and glistening?"

"Thorne, your chest hair is shaped like a map of Terravane," Mira said with a grimace. "No one wants that as the April spread."

"Oh-ho-ho! Speak for yourself!" Garran Flamecoil cackled, lighting his own hair on fire for dramatic effect. "August is about to get volcanic, baby."

"Wait," Finn spoke up nervously. "Is this mandatory?"

"Mandatory by morale decree," Ilyra Faen replied, already preparing divine soft lighting with her staff.

Team formations devolved instantly:

Selene was surrounded by half the squad trying to style her hair.

Mira was force-dressed into a white gown made from spare healing bandages and shouted, "Stop wrapping me like a mummy bride!"

Finn was forcibly handed a cape and told to "look more like a tragic prince."

Revyn stood behind a tree, moodily holding a single flower. "This is my arc."

Blazebloom, not to be outdone, stomped in wearing a flower crown and somehow striking a majestic standing pose. Someone slapped a cape on him too. The flaming bear posed on a rock, roaring dramatically while Veyna shouted, "That's our December!"

Takayoshi was next.

"Don't look at the lens," Veyna whispered like an overzealous director. "Look beyond it. Like you just punched a star and got dumped on the same day."

Takayoshi did exactly that.

Everyone watching went silent.

"…Holy crap," Darius whispered. "Why do I feel like I just saw the face of a lonely martial arts god in exile?"

"Because you did," Revyn nodded solemnly.

Selene stared at him, lips twitching. "This is war."

"Oh no, darling," Veyna cackled. "This is fashion."