A cold breeze brushed my cheeks. I considered raising my cape collar but instead kept my eyes on Seren.
She stared back. "Do you really want to fight me?"
"You won't move aside. Then we fight," I replied.
Seren sighed, assuming a stance as if she had no other choice.
I slowly gathered my internal energy, warming up for the clash.
This is my first time facing Seren, isn't it? She defeated Hector in a spar.
If so, her skills in one-on-one combat could rival or surpass Charon's. I wanted to test her first, but time was against me. As such, I took the initiative.
Seren immediately charged toward me as well.
There was a flash of silver. Before I knew it, her fingernails elongated.
The Blessing of the Silver Moon. She is serious.
The atmosphere grew tense. With my current strength, confronting those nails head-on would've been unthinkable. At least, that's what I would have believed just a day ago.
I slammed my flame-infused fist against Seren's claws, and she was the one forced back.
I had nothing to hide. It was all thanks to the Spirit Jade. Absorbing its energy while healing Seren had boosted my power to three times what it had been before.
In raw strength, I overwhelmed her.
Seren had likely realized this but didn't back down. She closed the distance, unleashing a flurry of rapid strikes.
This is strange.
Frankly, I'd been confident of an easy victory. Not out of arrogance but because the training camp had honed me. But Seren's skill far exceeded my expectations.
This wasn't just a rapid progress. She fought like a different person entirely.
Could this also be linked to her secret?
The back of her hand struck my cheek.
A sharp, tingling pain spread through my face, and I realized two things. First, I was fighting at less than half my usual strength. Second, Seren was holding back.
Why are martial artists so stubborn?
A surge of anger burned through me at the thought of her holding back. Then again, I wasn't using lethal force, either.
What was it Third Senior Brother always said? Double standards much?
Distracted, I reacted too late, and small wounds peppered my body.
I knew of the Blessing of the Silver Moon—the core power of the future hero, Silver Moon. It channeled the divine beast, the Silver Tiger, into the body.
Now that I think about it, Arjan's appearance in the Jewel Mountains had resembled Seren's current state. Does Arjan also have a blessing?
Suddenly, Seren stepped back, staring at me as if I were a monster. "Aren't you in bad condition?"
"Right. I don't even have half my strength," I replied.
"Half?" She laughed in disbelief.
I wiped the blood from my face. There were no fatal wounds, but the blood loss left me dizzy. My body was a mess.
Maybe that was exactly what Seren wanted. Dragging this out would only weaken me further, yet I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Is it an order from the Goodsprings?"
"What?"
"Your family learned about Evan in advance, and you infiltrated the training camp to kill him," I speculated. "If I assume that, your attitude makes some sense."
Seren burst into laughter. "An amusing guess. But you've overlooked one thing."
"What is it?"
"How the Goodsprings treat me." Sarcasm dripped from her voice. "Their bloodline is potent. Strangely, no matter what lineage mixes with it, the children always inherit the same traits."
I'd had little contact with the Goodsprings, but I'd once seen their family head. Hatem Goodspring's golden hair seemed molten under the sunlight, his eyes dark as the sea. The contrast between him and the Iron-Blooded Lord had seared itself into my memory.
I studied Seren.
Though my own appearance strayed from the typical Badniker traits, I still bore the black fairies' signature purple eyes. Seren, however, shared no resemblance to the Hatem I remembered.
"This is the first time in Goodsprings' history this has happened. That's why my family hates me as much as the Badnikers. They've seen me as a witch since the day I was born," she continued.
"That's surprising. I thought the Goodsprings would be the opposite of the Badnikers," I remarked.
"How so?" she asked.
"I imagined they'd be like a warm spring day, just like the name suggests."
At that, Seren burst out laughing again.
Most of the time, unintentional humor came off as offensive, almost like mockery. But Seren's laughter felt different. Though genuine, it carried an undercurrent of sadness.
When her laughter faded, her smile remained. "Life can't always be spring. Sooner or later, the biting cold catches up. That's why I hate spring—it lulls people into comfort, makes them forget hardship. Winter is cruel, but at least it's honest. An order from the Goodsprings?"
She raised her middle finger. "Fuck them. If they'd given me an order, I'd be the first to defy it."
"Then why do you want to kill Evan? Just to avoid dying yourself?" I pressed.
I hadn't known her long, but she didn't strike me as the type to kill for mere self-preservation.
"If I kill the Young Dark Pope of the Dark Church, the emperor himself might commend me. It's such a grand feat that even my family's high-ranking members would bow their heads." The corner of Seren's mouth twisted. "But you're not entirely wrong. Even if I'm here by choice, not their command."
"Do you want the Goodsprings to acknowledge you?"
"Not approval. I just want them to see Seren again."
Her tone was odd, so I pressed, "What do you mean?"
Seren shook her head, her expression somber. "Enough of this nonsense. You don't have much time to waste, do you?"
"That's true."
I didn't know much about Seren, but I sensed she didn't truly hate her family despite everything she'd said.
I understood that feeling. Blood ties were complicated. Renouncing a family name was easier said than done, and breaking free from one's birthplace was incredibly hard.
I learned that firsthand and discovered a surprisingly simple solution: one just had to find something more important than family.
I had found that place. Although it happened after my death, borrowing her words, spring had come to my life. Meanwhile, Seren's situation seemed to be deteriorating.
Should I comfort her? I didn't think so. Despite my awkward wording, offering comfort felt like an insult. As much as she longed for spring, she embraced winter. Hasty sympathy would only demean her struggle.
Thus, the conclusion was evident. We'd fight until we were both satisfied.
Just then, an explosion echoed in the distance.
Seren and I froze mid-movement and turned toward the noise.
A sinister energy erupted, palpable even from here.
"This..."
"Miasma?" Seren stared blankly before her expression twisted with urgency. "It can't be..."
Gritting her teeth, she bolted toward the source.
Instinct told me this wasn't the time to keep fighting, so I had no choice but to follow.
***
The source of the Dark Qi wasn't far away. Seren and I reached the scene shortly after we started running.
The scene before us was grim. Hector and Charon lay motionless, Junian was bloodied, and Evan—or what resembled him—stood blankly at the center. But he was nothing like the Evan I remembered. His skin and eyes had turned pitch black.
"Evan?" I wasn't skilled in medicine, but even I could tell this wasn't natural.
Junian coughed up blood.
Seren rushed to her side, supporting her. "What happened? Did you fail?"
"Fail? Yes. A complete failure," Junian mumbled.
"What do you mean?"
"Irresponsible as it sounds... I don't know. Evan should be dead..."
"Yes. He definitely died, Instructor Junian."
Neither Seren nor I had spoken those words.
A dreary laugh cut through the air as the sky darkened. A mournful cry echoed through the forest, and the bushes thrashed wildly despite the absence of wind. The once-silent woods erupted into chaos, as if driven to madness. Branches snapped unnaturally, their twisted joints emitting an unsettling creak.
For the first time since entering the Butterfly Forest, I glimpsed the world beyond the leaves. Instead of the night sky, I saw dozens of demons roaming above. A swarm of winged beasts and Banshees circled the priest at their center.
"Priest Juan," Junian spat the name like venom.
Juan smiled. "You look unwell, Instructor Junian. An unlucky day?"
"The worst day. Thanks to you," she said.
Juan pointed at himself in surprise. "Me?"
"Drop the vile act," she chided.
"It's no act. I'm genuinely hurt. I'm your savior. Is this how you repay me?"
"My savior?"
Juan clicked his tongue, waving his index finger. "Instructor Junian, do you honestly believe you survived on your own skill? Tsk, tsk. You underestimate priests far too much."
"What are you—"
"I knew you were a demon-hunting expert. That's why I needed you at this training camp. You're the final piece of my plan."
Juan's amusement suggested he no longer saw us as threats, merely trapped mice in a jar.
"Evan Helvin isn't an ordinary church member. While others must break their medium to reclaim sealed memories, the Young Dark Pope awakens through death."
"Death," Junian echoed.
"That's why I needed you. You understand the Dark Church, the church members' sealed memories, and how to deal with them," Juan explained.
Junian's expression stiffened.
"And so, you subjected him to the most excruciating death." Juan snickered. "Evan Helvin will be reborn as the ultimate Young Dark Pope!"
"I can't believe it." Junian, unshaken by most things, lowered her head in defeat. The weight of her unwitting role in creating such evil was too much to bear.
"You were right in the end, Luan," Seren murmured, her voice hollow.
Obviously, shouting, "I told you so!" like an idiot wouldn't be cool, but frustration got the better of me, and I couldn't help but say, "Well, I did tell you."
Seren shot me an incredulous look, then burst into laughter. "True. Then I'll pay the price for my choice."
"You have a plan?"
"I'll use the blessing that eradicated the demons one last time," she replied.
"I see."
"It'll take concentration. You know what that means?" she asked.
"Buy you time." I cracked my neck out of habit. "Got it."