"Right now? It's already late. Aphelia, you need rest too." Violet’s voice carried worry like a taut string in the night.

"You just hauled Hrok out of the Earth Vein. And today’s fights…" Her heart thumped like a drum. "That battle with the Origin scared me stiff."

Before Shilwen could speak, Violet cut in, fast as a sparrow darting.

She’d seen too much today. Sigdrifa planting an Aether Tree on Earth, its boughs like silver veins in the sky.

Aphelia shattering the Origin in outer space, power blooming like a scarlet nova.

That strength carved itself into Violet, and into every Valkyrie nearby.

When the Origin was crushed in a single stroke, fragments flew like embers across the heavens.

That sight would be a lifetime’s brand, a memory etched into bone.

A fight like that was fated to be unforgettable, a thunder that rings after silence.

Because of it, Violet worried hard for Aphelia’s body, worry like a hand around her throat.

She wasn’t the Violet from Aphelia’s era; she was the battle queen under Brynhildr, who commanded blood like a tide.

She knew how a great battle hollows you out.

Facing the Origin with flesh alone was a madness none of them had dared imagine.

In this world, the person Aphelia replaced was a “seed” Brynhildr left for her own revival.

That seed wasn’t strong, barely showed a Valkyrie’s talent.

At the academy she was a shadow in a corridor, needing Violet’s protection and others’ shields.

From the day Aphelia arrived here to having strength that could match the Origin, only a few days had passed.

Just a few days, and the frail girl who could hardly lift a blade turned into a magnetic, fierce Valkyrie.

Anyone would worry; Violet, who stood closest to her, worried most.

“It’s fine. My body’s… forget it, let’s talk tomorrow.” Aphelia’s exhaustion tasted like sand.

“I won’t make you run around again tonight. Tomorrow morning, gather the Valkyries who can still move.

I’ve got things to entrust to them. For now… is there a place where I can lie down and rest?”

She’d meant to push on. Time was pressing, like a river in flood.

There were Valkyries with heavy wounds, and Valkyries who’d parted at the edge of life and death.

Some had lost kin and friends in the abyss of the day.

Aphelia had to move fast, finish what lay in her hands.

But when she saw Violet and Shilwen’s faces—fatigue gray as ash—she changed course.

She decided to stay and rest for a night.

Beside her, Uroboros chuckled, a nod hidden like a shadow in rain.

Anyone with eyes could see these two had worked at high pitch all day.

If not for worrying about Aphelia, they’d have dropped where they stood.

“We’ve got a spot,” Shilwen said, pushing her glasses, notebook rustling like dry leaves.

“By the rest camp. It’s just ruins. We cleared a patch where you can sleep.

There are some blankets, but it won’t be comfortable.”

Her small movements made Aphelia pause, then sigh, soft as a falling leaf.

She nodded and asked them to lead the way.

“Aphelia, these Valkyries are really loyal to you.”

Uroboros sent a thread of black mist to Aphelia’s ear, voice pressed low by Aether.

“They even cleared you a special spot. I bet they don’t have decent beds themselves.”

Her tone carried a spark of schadenfreude, wicked and playful.

Aphelia was helpless and amused. In her consciousness she gave Uroboros a firm “bump,” a playful rebuke.

“You knew and didn’t tell me? If they misunderstand, how awkward.”

“Be a little considerate, will you!”

Their bond was a dovetail of fate. As Aphelia grew stronger, Uroboros grew stronger too.

As long as Aphelia lived, Uroboros’s lifespan would barely trickle away.

The Ouroboros tribe lived with the laws of the cosmos, lifespans almost boundless.

Now, walking beside Aphelia, traits shared both ways.

Uroboros fed back healing and vitality, like spring water into Aphelia’s veins.

In the spirit world, Uroboros was the dependent, Aphelia the anchor.

A light punishment made Uroboros’s head throb like a struck bell.

Aphelia never hit hard. Uroboros was a partner now, a comrade with life entrusted.

She knew how to treat partners, and how to treat enemies.

In the spirit world she could read Uroboros’s thoughts like ripples on a pond.

“Not my fault. You never asked, Aphelia-chan~”

“What’s with that weird tic, Uroboros?”

“Don’t mind it, don’t mind it~”

Since Uroboros’s memories recovered, she sometimes spoke oddly.

Words slipped out like foreign coins, little habits with teasing edges.

Aphelia couldn’t parse them all, but through Uroboros’s mind she felt the mischief behind them.

The camp sat far from the great pit.

Before leaving, Aphelia had filled it with stone, leveling a grave in the earth.

She would not let young Valkyries slip and fall, or despair and plunge.

This was a sensitive time; she had to ward off every dark possibility.

Near the camp, Aphelia saw Valkyries on rotation, figures lit by scattered bonfires.

Flames stood like watchful eyes, warning and guiding at once.

They kept to their duties, but their spirits were worn thin as paper.

“We’re back. How’s the situation?” Shilwen asked, her Aether flaring like a lantern as they approached.

The gate guards relaxed, shoulders dropping like burdens set down.

These Valkyries had started using old army-issue weapons, saving Aether like water in drought.

Aphelia studied those guns. Their bite looked dull as rust.

She wondered where Shilwen had scrounged these resources.

They could scare off common beasts, sure.

But against today’s weird creatures, these rifles would be reeds in a storm.

They’d still need Aether to kill.

“Captain Shilwen—eh, isn’t that Lady Aphelia!”

The gate guard greeted Shilwen, then saw Aphelia behind Violet and Shilwen.

She almost cried out, shock shooting up like a geyser.

Her partner stared, eyes wide, tongue lost.

“Shh. Easy. Don’t wake the others.” Aphelia’s Aether moved gentle as silk, sealing their mouths for a breath.

She stepped close, raised a hand, asking for silence.

She wasn’t afraid of exposure.

She just didn’t want a stir to rattle the hard-won sleep inside the camp.

The two Valkyries looked at Brynhildr with joy and shock twined together.

They had witnessed Aphelia’s battle today.

A black ring had veiled the sky, and a scarlet shadow had split the heavens.

Those images branded their hearts, red-hot and indelible.

With Violet and Shilwen spreading the tale, Aphelia had become almost invincible in their eyes.

They nodded fast, obedient as reeds in the wind.

When the almost-invincible Aphelia asked, you listened.

And she was asking only to protect sleeping comrades.

Aphelia eased the Aether from their mouths and nodded to them.

A soft wave of Aether draped their bodies, warmth like spring sun on old stone.

It knitted wounds, even old ailments, and banished fatigue like fog at dawn.

Pleasure rose unguarded; they clapped hands over their lips, eyes bright with surprise.

Their injuries weren’t heavy. Aphelia spent extra time tuning their bodies,

healing hidden harms and washing away tiredness.

She wouldn’t let exhaustion topple them after a day like this.

“The camp’s safety is in your hands.”