“So... please don’t keep guarding me anymore.”

As she spoke, Aphelia was a hollow puppet, a candle snuffed to ash, and she said nothing more.

“Aphelia...” Lilo’s fingers unclasped like frost thawing. She cupped Aphelia’s face, unfazed by tears or the pale bandages coiling like moon-white vines. Forehead to forehead, her voice was soft as autumn light.

“But the one I love has always been you.”

“So what if the old Aphelia died? You aren’t her shadow anymore. You’re a person on your own.”

“If you’re alive, then live. If the past is gone, don’t carry its bones. Even if it’s my selfishness—if you don’t know what to live for, then live for me... Aphelia.”

Feeling the warmth at Lilo’s brow and the tears that fell like rain with each word, Aphelia opened her eyes. Her voice trembled like a leaf in wind.

“Why... Lilo, you don’t need to be part of this. You’re already a True God, a star high enough to draw endless reverence.”

“Right now, I’m only a burden.”

Bandages winding her arms like pale roots, Aphelia laid her hands over Lilo’s and spoke through a torrent of tears.

She had lost her strength and her past; she stood at the cliff’s edge of collapse. Everyone living clings to a pillar, a temple of belief, and in a heartbeat Lena’s arrival yanked Aphelia’s pillar away.

For a body already frail, it was winter’s weight on a wounded tree.

She truly had nothing left. Lilo now stood as a True God, a blazing sun; there was no need to guard a stone tied to her ankle.

“I love you, Aphelia.”

“Does love... ever need a reason?”

“I fell for you, and it never had anything to do with your strength.”

Lilo’s words shook, and her tears met Aphelia’s. She kissed those dry lips; the two rivers mingled, and the room brimmed with spring warmth.

“How’s it going—problem solved?” In the hallway, Hrok watched Shilwen trying to press an ear to the door, a helpless smile like a weary moon on her face.

Shilwen didn’t answer. She slipped back from the doorframe like mist, a mysterious smile rising like a crescent, and walked downstairs. It tugged Hrok’s curiosity like a hook in water.

She glanced at the slit of the door. At the staircase, she hovered—up or down, a bird caught between branches. Shilwen’s light laugh floated ahead like chimes, and Hrok flicked her sleeve with a cold snort, stopped looking at the door, and went down.

Time turned like leaves.

After Lilo’s gentle guidance, Aphelia eased out of her bleak tide. She learned where she was, and about the mysterious twin goddess statue.

After seeing the statue, hope rekindled like a spark in dry grass. She stayed by it with a near-fanatic devotion, day and night like two lamps. Even Hrok and Shilwen let it be, and left Aphelia at the statue’s roots.

“No, I think I should go today. She hasn’t eaten in days. Miss Hrok, if I run into the guards...” Lilo weighed worry like a stone in her palm, then chose to head for Central Park. Safety came first.

“Fine. Rebuilding a body is like tendon-stripping—pain and patience. Take my sword. The wardens won’t stop you. If anything happens, spark the sword with Aether.” Hrok loosened the long sword at her waist, handed it over, and bent back to her forge like a black sun.

Lilo slung the sword across her back. After greeting Andrea, she headed for Central Park like a red flame on the move. She didn’t fly, fearing misunderstanding. As for teleportation...

That forest doesn’t stomach stray Aether. If you target that place, the vast, pure Aether there would crush you into pulp like a tide of stone.

With that thought, Lilo quickened her pace, Aether feathering her steps. She slipped past the crowd like a red shadow of fire. Heads turned like sunflowers, and Lilo murmured an apology in her heart.

If she held wind Aether, people would’ve felt only a breeze brushing their sleeves.

Near the gate, under the towering tree like a green pillar, she stopped.

Reason pressed cold and sudden. Aphelia stood before her.

“Aphelia, you... what’s wrong?” Lilo blinked. The woman before her felt changed, not just in looks but in the marrow—an instinctive gulf like night and noon.

Aphelia didn’t answer. She stood by the great trunk, silent as sleep, a statue under leaves.

Two young wardens stumbled out from the park like men pushed by a living forest. Their faces held no fear or rage; their armor wore no claws. Mostly, they looked helpless.

“Sirs, what happened inside?” Lilo asked, seeing them abandon their post.

Maybe Aphelia’s state tied to what happened within.

“Inside... eh? Wasn’t she just in there, and with—” The demon knight’s words were smothered by the youth’s hand. He studied Lilo like measuring steel and asked:

“You’re asking? We just—”

“No need to spin a tale. Recognize this sword?” Lilo unstrapped the blade and showed it, cutting him off like a clean stroke. As a former deputy archmage, she knew a lie on the anvil.

“Our apologies, my lady. We were rude.” They bowed at once, moving to kneel, but Lilo had no time for ceremony.

“Forget it. What happened inside?” Her words fell like pebbles into a still pond.

“That woman—seems the goddess blessed her. She fused with the stone statue just now. The whole forest woke like a beast and pushed everyone out. It didn’t harm anyone, though.” The demon knight’s voice shook like a reed; a shallow cut ringed his neck.

The bandaged woman at the tree noticed him. She stepped from the trunk’s shadow and walked toward him, slow as moonrise.

“Aphelia?!” Lilo moved to shield the two knights, a hard bark in her voice.

The wrongness raised the hairs on her neck like cold dew, though she couldn’t name its source.

The bandaged woman didn’t stop. The knights rose and reached for their blades like thunder about to break. She paused, tilted her head like a puzzled sparrow, as if confused by their swords.

Seeing her stop, Lilo thought her words had worked. Before she could breathe, the bandaged woman surged forward, ghostlike. She slipped through them like smoke and rushed the demon knight.

His sword pierced her belly like paper. She didn’t slow. Her hands reached for his neck, poised to twist his head like a brittle branch.

“Stop, damn you!” Lilo’s shout cracked the air.

“You stop!” Scarlet dragon claws snapped from her side, clamping the youth’s arm as his blade fell toward the woman’s throat. She blocked him like iron jaws.

“What are you doing, my lady?” He strained, but a True God is a mountain against a stream. He snarled at Lilo and reached for a scroll with his free hand.

“Look closely. What is she doing!” Lilo’s roar carried a thread of dragon’s might, shaking his heart like a bell. He stilled and stared.

Though skewered, the bandaged woman ignored her wound. From her swaddled hands, pure Aether flowed like clear water, wrapping the demon knight’s neck. It wasn’t instant like a healer’s spell, but the wound closed at a speed you could see, a stitch of light.

“This... this...” The demon knight gaped, stunned by the strange mercy. Realizing his blade still sat in her belly, he flushed with awkward guilt. He tried to pull it free, then hesitated, afraid to break the healing like a spider’s thread.

The youth also reddened. He promised he wouldn’t act rashly. Lilo released his arm, and they waited in a tight hush until the bandaged woman finished.

She stepped back and drew her body off the sword like a reed from water. She didn’t glance at her own wound. She returned to the great tree, bowed her head, and stood there like a quiet shrine.

“We’re very sorry, my lady. We were reckless.” The two knights exchanged looks and bowed to Lilo again, contrite as boys in rain.

“Go report to Shilwen and Hrok. I’ll watch here. Go, now.” Lilo’s words were steady, a guard-post planted like a stake.