Medith became a sky-piercing white pillar—flawless, purer than any Breaker Light Pillar, whiter than any white.

Like a snow lotus blooming under moonlight on a glacier; like a celestial maiden descending, untouched by stain or malice.

Inside the pillar, the Dusk Legion’s black sun surfaced—yet within that white, even it turned moon-bright, a spotless disc.

Woom— The pillar unleashed a white shockwave, sweeping everything within a thousand meters like a nuclear blast.

Crack—

Crack—

Haidra’s war-armor shattered mid-charge, turning to dust and vanishing into the air; then the Impado warhorse’s armor dissolved with it.

"What?!" Haidra reeled. She’d rushed the fastest and got caught by the ring of white light. All her gear broke apart, even her long spear.

"What is this?" Haidra froze, and a moment later, everyone caught up.

"Commander!" Mure of the Iron Leopard White Riders, a pheasant plume brushing his shoulder, galloped in. "What happened? Is this the enemy’s Magic Breaker?"

Haidra shook her head, baffled.

"If so, we’re doomed! I’ve never seen this range or—oh... gods of Eunomia! What am I looking at!!" Mure gaped, slack-jawed.

Haidra followed his stare. A kilometer away, a cylindrical cloud ten meters tall was hurling white smoke and rubble into the sky, forming a white mushroom.

"O gods..." Haidra and the soldiers stood rooted, unable to move.

...

"This..." Manto’s gear was utterly ruined. Worse—he felt his Lawbreaking Ability sealed. He drew a knife, slashed his tunic, and blood welled hot.

From the blood, a crouching white tiger tattoo ghosted into view. At the same time: "Regido—"

But the horror he feared arrived: nothing changed. He felt his Lawbreaking Energy "locked," his strength thickening like swamp mud.

"Lord Manto—" Erig shouted. Manto snapped back and rushed toward the two. Sais ignored him entirely; Milia watched, tense, yet the three had abandoned the fight.

...

Whoom— The white mushroom cloud suddenly shrank as if time reversed. Then rubble and stones rained down, clattering off ground and roofs.

Roof tiles and junk across many houses were torn loose. The high platform behind Medith splintered into wood dust. Closer homes gaped like blasted maws.

When the dust thinned, a lithe figure stood tall above the crowd. Her clothes had somehow restored themselves—white ensemble, dramatic black sun cloak, hero’s poise.

Medith’s gaze was blade-cold, her demeanor unchanged, as if nothing had happened at all.

Only her white hair dragged everyone back to reality. Those pale silver strands kept whispering—she’d just been at death’s door.

"Medith... Medith—" Sais dropped the Dark Blade, kicked free of heavy armor, and sprinted at full tilt.

The women ran to Medith too, tears brimming and bright.

"Medith—" Sais dove into Medith’s arms, listening to her strong heartbeat, breathing in her warmth and scent—then she broke and sobbed.

"Ah—hah... ah... waa..." Sais cried from joy, pouring out every buried dread and grievance. "I thought... yih... I thought you were— aa—"

Medith stroked her now blood-red hair, eyes full of relief and ache.

"Mmm..." Sais kissed Medith’s rosy lips, hands clamping her willow-slim waist, terrified she’d slip away.

"Hey... hey... enough, everyone’s watching." Medith regained calm and gently pushed her away.

"Commander... it’s... it’s so good... so good... uu-uu..." Phiby hugged Medith’s waist and quietly sobbed.

"Alright, enough. One by one— we’ve got work." Medith’s eyes flashed toward Manto and the others, who were staring her down.

"Mm." The women wiped their tears and turned back to face Manto’s group.

"Move— move— hold the city gate— wipe out every Mountain Bandit inside! Leave none— Drag the ringleaders to me! I’ll take their heads on the Royal Capital’s execution stage—" Haidra’s sharp voice rang through the city. Minds finally cleared; a thousand iron cavalry and several thousand elite troops fanned out, hoisting the Royal Capital’s banner and blaring war horns.

"It’s the Dike Guard! The Royal Capital didn’t abandon us! We’ve won, we’ve won—" People who’d cowered indoors all night wept for joy, stepped out, and watched the White Riders thunder past.

"Kill! Leave none—" Dike cavalry swung greatswords, cleaving fleeing Mountain Bandits in two.

"Ahhh— long live Eunomia! Long live Ogathas—" The crowd embraced and wept, singing the anthem of the Eastern Nation.

"No... no... impossible..." Skaro staggered, filthy and pale. He’d just escaped those lunatics; last night the captives fought blood-eyed.

Every strike went for the kill. One side surged with grief and faith; the other side’s will collapsed. On a narrow road, the brave win; morale seesawed. Even as common men, they lacked advantage.

They battled all night. His nine thousand were down to three. He slipped out in chaos—only to crash into the White Riders.

"You’re the bandit chief?!" Mure saw the lion-head mask and his fury flared; his earth-shaking iron steed charged straight at him.

"No! Not me! I’m not— spare me, lord! Spare me!" Skaro scuttled like a dead dog, hands braced behind, scooting backward. He tried to stand—legs jelly—tumbling and clawing away from Mure.

A girl clutched a brown cloak and watched Skaro’s pathetic scramble. Tears burst hot—retribution had come. She’d ground her teeth, endured. Heaven had eyes. The “curse” she’d sworn that day finally answered.

"Heh... heh-hahaha... hahaha—" The girl collapsed, powerless, and cried behind her hands. The morning sun rose radiant, gilding the land, driving every dark cloud away.

...

"Go! Haidra’s sealed the main gate—we take the west! I’ve still got strength, move!" Manto grabbed the two and sprinted.

"What about the brothers? We just abandon them?" Sinis stared, shocked.

Erig watched the last few hundred guards still clashing with Palmer’s crew, wavered, then grit his teeth. "Move! Keep the green hills, fear no lack of firewood!"

"No! I won’t abandon them!" Sinis ignored them, turned back, and charged toward Palmer and the fight.