“The important person… is that friend you mentioned?” Rexi’s voice rang like a small bell in mist. She knew Lucimia’s aim: save her friend, find the road home.

“Mm.” Lucimia nodded, a quiet ripple under moonlight.

At least, that felt right, like reading fate in tea leaves.

Maybe that was why she indulged Desty and Rexi—gentle, patient—like warm spring rain, because of Yuna’s shadow in her heart.

And now she chose to help others because of Desty, like lighting a lantern for the path she left behind.

Doing this seemed to stitch their names into her heart, red thread on silk, keeping them close like breath in winter.

In a line that sounded a bit dramatic, like carving vows on a blade—

“To inherit… a last wish?” Lucimia whispered, words falling like snow.

“What did you say?” Rexi didn’t catch it, her brows lifting like feathers.

“Nothing.” Lucimia drew a flying carpet from her Storage Ring, fabric unfurling like dawn. “Let’s go save the granny.”

“Okay~” Rexi beamed, sunlight after rain.

—

They used Invisibility Magic and flew back to the sailboat, shadows skimming waves like swallows. On deck, chaos boiled like a pot; the bearded man fretted.

He wondered where the two girls and that prickly man had vanished, the question buzzing like flies.

Lucimia ignored them, calm as still water. She used Devouring on the granny, then paired it with Rexi’s memory edits like threads crossing.

Soon, their “granny revival plan” was done, neat as a knotted cord in the dark.

Everyone instantly forgot the prickly man, Lucimia, and Rexi, minds wiping clean like tide over footprints.

They saw the granny blink in a haze, fog lifting slow, and tell them she’d simply fallen down.

The bearded man exhaled like a bellows; if trouble struck, his boat would be an empty shell on the sea.

With the matter settled, a faint ache rippled through Lucimia’s body, like cold seeping through reed walls, hard to place.

“Seems reviving someone burns more energy than I thought,” she murmured, smoke-thin.

Rexi didn’t hear. She turned with bright eyes, quick as a sparrow. “Do we fly straight to the Lowegar Kingdom next?”

“Mm.” Lucimia nodded, steady as a stone. “Ships crawl like snails, and you’ve felt that pace.”

“Either way works.” Rexi let the wind take it, easy as grass.

They sat the magic carpet again and shot toward Lowegar Kingdom, a streak like a swallow skimming water.

Lucimia raised a magic barrier to tame the rushing wind, a glass shell in the gale. She sat and let thoughts sink like a stone.

What should she do first once inside Lowegar, a city like a chessboard under clouds?

Find Kalan Village and look for Yuna’s birth parents, faces lost like seeds in soil?

Or Devour a Time Ability User, pluck a new thread from the loom of time?

Or settle the troubles of the Time Halt bearer and the Dark Deity, cut the knot like a blade?

The other side already had their eyes on her, hawks circling wide, waiting for a drop.

What was their situation exactly, what gears hidden in that clock?

First, the prickly man’s Time Halt came from the Storage Ring’s maker, a fingerprint left in metal like frost.

And the blade that killed him carried the Dark Deity’s Authority Power, a cold brand burned into steel.

So three paths of guesswork fanned open, leaves in wind:

One, the Time Stasis Bearer and the Dark Deity were working together, storm and thunder.

Two, the Dark Deity had the Time Stasis Bearer under control, strings tight as wire.

Three, the Time Stasis Bearer also wielded Authority Power, like Nirael, a second moon in the night.

The intel on Time Ability Users from Bevi and Nirael wasn’t complete, pieces scattered like shells on a beach.

It listed what parts of Temporal Authority did, where bearers clustered, plus gender and a brief look, like a sketch.

Some had no info at all, blank pages rustling, names swallowed by fog.

It wasn’t a neat dossier with faces, places, and powers arranged like stamps in a book.

So Lucimia didn’t know the Time Halt bearer’s face or name, or how she tied to the Dark Deity, a knot in shadow.

She knew one thing: the bearer was female, a silhouette under the moon.

Back to the question, a compass needle twitching.

What tied the Time Stasis Bearer and the Dark Deity? Each tie meant a different wind, a different way to sail.

The third was the worst. The other two wouldn’t seek her out; she could choose when to cut the knot.

But the third meant a hunter on her trail, a reed hunter in the marsh, patient and cold.

“Ugh, not a moment to breathe.” Lucimia felt her spirit fray like paper in rain.

“Rest?” Rexi poked her head out like a curious sparrow, eyes bright. “Oh right, Lucimia—remember I said I could let you rest?”

“Once we hit Lowegar, I’ll help!” Her promise gleamed like a coin.

“You? Sure about that?” Lucimia’s doubt flickered like a flame.

“Of course.” Rexi lifted her chin, pride shining like a little star.

“...Do as you like.” Lucimia sighed, a reed bending, then kept thinking.

Whether the Dark Deity and the Time Ability User were partners, puppets, or one body, their goal aligned like wolves.

They wanted to target Lucimia, gather time abilities, seize Temporal Authority, a crown hidden in clouds.

Conveniently, she also sought to gather time abilities, two rivers heading for the same sea.

A clash was inevitable, like thunder after pressure.

Who would be hunter and who would be deer? The forest kept its secret.

In short, Lucimia had to be ready for an ambush the moment she entered the city, blade under sleeve.

—

Time slid fast, grease on the axle. Lucimia used time acceleration to push speed, wind filling sails.

In a few hours, they followed the river and reached Lowegar’s port, masts like spears against the sky.

“We’re here.” Her voice was a bell.

“Mm.” Rexi’s answer fell like a pebble.

The carpet dipped. Rexi hopped to the ground like a cat. Lucimia followed, then stowed the carpet like folding dawn.

She didn’t even have time to glance at the port’s shape; a sharp ringing swarmed from every direction, bees in a silver bowl.

“Humm—”

In the next blink, laughter on the docks froze mid-expression, masks carved from light.

Water poured from a cup hung mid-air, glass rain arrested above ground.

A bird stopped mid-wing under the sun, a painted feather on the sky.

A leaf floated and simply stayed, green stillness in the air.

The whole world hit the pause button, a finger on a clock.

Lucimia reeled, heart thudding like a drum. She slapped Rexi’s shoulder first, snapping her free from stasis like breaking ice.

“Wh-why did it halt again?” Rexi pressed close, a shadow to Lucimia’s side.

“...” Lucimia’s face tightened like steel, eyes narrowing like blades.

She’d just arrived, and time halted? Coincidence? No—this arrow was aimed at her.

How did the other side know the moment she landed, like a hunter feeling footfall? Was it this domain, or—

For some reason, Lucimia lowered her gaze to the Storage Ring on her finger, the metal glint like a cold eye.

A bold thought clicked, gears turning in the dark.

Since the Time Stasis Bearer crafted the Storage Ring, she could’ve sewn tricks into it, stitches hidden in velvet.

A locator? Or, after Lucimia used Reversion, the ring triggered a signal, a bell tolling far away.

That would explain how the other side knew she had time abilities, smoke revealing fire.

“...Troublesome.” Her word fell like a stone.

Lucimia stood quiet as a pine in snow. If the other side halted time, they’d surely act, knives in fog.

But Lucimia wasn’t bound by the halt. What would they try, what move on this board?

The next moment, the ground lit underfoot, lines crawling like frost. A sigil swelled across the stone, a long sword drawn in light.

It matched the Magic Array on the prickly man’s coat, now blooming to cover the entire pier like ice.

“The Dark Deity, huh?” Her breath was a blade.

So who was the Time Stasis Bearer? And what tied her to the Dark Deity, thread or chain?