Never before had Yihan fallen asleep after being knocked unconscious like this.

He materialized above a collapsed rooftop, only then realizing he stood amidst utter ruins.

True ruins. Flames had devoured entire streets, leaving rows of houses reduced to skeletal remains. Even the tall clock tower stood half-consumed, a lone silhouette amid the wreckage, its base stained with charred remains.

Yihan froze. *How? Is this still Soul Valley Town?*

The truth crashed over him as wave after wave of hollow-eyed townsfolk shuffled past, their faces etched with despair and confusion.

He scrambled up, stumbling slightly. His gaze instinctively shot toward the Grand Theater—only to find a massive crater smoldering where it once stood, heat haze still shimmering above the scorched earth.

"You really do appear out of thin air…" A weary voice drifted from behind, thin and breathless. Yihan turned to see Carola slumped against a tilted wall. Her petite frame was swallowed by an oversized cloak, curled tight. Her face was pale as paper.

Catching his stare, she managed a strained smile, her lips bloodless. "I’m starting to believe you really did time-travel from the future…"

Yihan rushed over, crouching before her. "Are you hurt?" The cloak hid her body, but her trembling legs and ashen cheeks betrayed her exhaustion.

"...Fine. Just drained." Carola always tried to seem strong around him. But yesterday’s brutal battle had bled her dry. Even the snowless dusk made her shiver.

Seeing her haggard face, Yihan’s heart ached. *Lia.* The thought plunged him into icy despair. He sank heavily beside her, directionless.

*Lia hated him.*

No doubt about it. She didn’t just hate him—she wanted to chain him to Waterfall Valley forever, binding him to her side. She’d given him no chance to explain, not even about his dream-jumping secret. Her actions had flung him back into this tangled past.

But Lia’s sudden betrayal also made him question everything: *Was he even right to keep trying?*

Carola frowned at his gloomy expression, waving a small, pale hand before his eyes. "You okay? You look like someone who just watched their newly renovated house burn down before they even moved in."

She didn’t notice how her words flowed easier only with him.

*That uniquely Carola metaphor…* Yihan almost smiled, but the weight in his chest held it back. He shook his head. "Soul Valley Town… what happened?"

The Witch Hunter’s expression darkened. She rolled her eyes. "That Witch. Yesterday, while I fought the Fallen Cult, she woke up. Something snapped. She unleashed flames indiscriminately—friend or foe, she didn’t care. Burned half the town. I had to abandon my fight just to hold her back… nearly drained me completely."

"Her power was overwhelming. I barely contained most of it…" Carola’s voice softened. "Thankfully, the orphanage caught fire first. Everyone rushed to help. No casualties. A small mercy."

"And now?" Yihan nodded toward the square. Families huddled together as officials scrambled. Mounted police darted about, every wagon pressed into service.

"With the town like this? How will they survive winter?" Carola sighed. "They’re salvaging what they can. By dusk, they’ll cross the mountains to the nearest city-state. Rebuild later, or resettle. That’s the plan."

Her tone held no sympathy. "I warned them. Told them not to meddle with the Witch’s core. But they insisted on ‘handling it’ with outside help. Look where it got them…" She glanced at the refugees. "The innocent townsfolk paid the price."

"What about the Fallen Cult?"

"No idea. After the Witch’s outburst, I couldn’t spare them a glance. They probably fled."

Silence stretched. Yihan finally forced out the question clawing at his throat: "And… Lia?"

Carola studied him, a flicker of "Finally, you ask" in her eyes. She jerked her chin toward distant peaks. "That way. After releasing the flames, she looked exhausted. Probably afraid of causing more chaos. She bolted straight into those snow-capped mountains. I couldn’t stop her."

"So she’s still out there?"

"Likely. I don’t know for sure."

Yihan said nothing.

Carola shuffled beside him, following his gaze to the mountains. Her eyes lingered on his pained face. "Still not giving up on her?"

"Do you truly believe she’s beyond saving?"

"I’m a Witch Hunter," Carola said carefully. "To me, all Witches are beyond saving." (*If you hadn’t interfered, this mess would’ve ended long ago.*) The harsh truth died on her tongue. Seeing him so broken stirred a strange ache in her chest—a urge to ruffle his hair, to offer comfort.

She didn’t. He wouldn’t expect it.

Instead, she sat beside him. The pale evening light offered no warmth. Endless mountains loomed, their branches, rocks, and trails crusted with eternal snow—a frozen labyrinth trapping the ruined town.

Yihan reached out and pulled Carola into a tight hug.

She stiffened, reflexively jerking a foot back before catching herself. Her whole body locked rigid as his weight leaned against her, her fingertips trembling.

She’d never know what drove him in that moment. Just as he’d never tell her: facing this crushing reality, with lies stripped bare to reveal hatred and fury, he realized something. Whether five years past or five years future—the only one unchanged, the only one whose feelings for him stayed pure… was this Witch Hunter named Carola.

*She was the only one he could truly trust.*