WHEN NERO AND Rius went away for the market, then was the only time Amé approached the injured knight, kneeled on the ground, and greeted in full respect, saying: “Your Highness, my king…who dared bring my lord into such a state?” To see his most esteemed and admired person reduced to this… Amé couldn’t help but shake with rage.

The injured knight, apparently a king, laughed weakly, then sighed. “The Emperor’s gone mad, brother. He commanded his Faction of Eternal Bliss to strike me down.”

“His faction!” Amé couldn’t believe it. “Just what is the emperor hoping to achieve…”

“You must rally our friends,” the king said. “Now.”

Amé pondered for a bit, but ultimately shook his head.

“I’m no ‘Lion’, sir,” he said. “I can’t lead people. You know me; and I’m not you.”

“But the Beaver,” the king insisted, “paves the way. You’re called upon this task. A new path must be drawn, must be laid, for those who are destined to follow ours.”

“I can’t do this, milord.”

The king smiled. “Say, Amé, is Nero that son of Tyst? He got his father’s face; I almost thought my teleportation was so out of place I actually travelled back in time, seeing your twin brother alive.”

The inventor smiled, but in a blink returned in a distraught face. “How about the others, lord? Why me?”

“You’re the only remaining sane among us.” The king laughed sadly.

“What about Edmund?”

“Edmund? Tsk. The Snake has rotten, finally made dealings with the demons, busying himself being a duke in a faraway town. He’s as good as dead.”

He also clicked his tongue. He couldn’t help but succumb to corruption, huh. Amé then looked sternly at the King. “How about you, sir? You can regenerate yourself from…this, can’t you?”

The king shook his head, albeit barely. “The Grand Weaver asked for the return of my borrowed time. Even if I regenerate my body today, my soul will be taken when tonight falls. My time’s nearing, Amé. You’re the last one I can trust.”

“This burden… It’s too heavy, Jonah.” He bowed down, both in despair and sunken heart.

“I’ve tried, but ultimately failed our mission. But you’re still here. You must ready the path for the fledglings…ah, Nero might be one of them. A healer, at such a young age? He can be the next Snake. Or more so. If you have witnessed how he performed Revive with my aether crystal—to a dog, at that.”

Amé shook his head. “I pray he won’t be. God, that boy’s suffered enough already. Just being his mother’s son…”

They were both quiet for a while, then the king said, “My aether crystal…Nero dropped it somewhere there. Give it to me.”

The inventor looked around, and saw the tear-shaped crystal not far from him. But it looked like just a crafted metalwork… Had all its mana been drained? By Nero? Unbelievable. He returned it to the king.

“Put it into my left hand.”

He obeyed and put it to the king’s left hand carefully, in fear that even a tiny movement on his left arm would bring unsufferable pain upon the latter, as it was wasted. Still, the tortured king managed to hold the emptied aether crystal firmly.

“This is a gift to your nephew. May he use this wisely.”

The king closed his eyes. Slowly, then, his whole being—his mutilated body, his blood, even his armor—glowed a dim purple light.

“Ah,” Amé was astonished, “you’ve perfected it…”

The king laughed. “Finally, right? I succeeded at least in one thing.” He opened his eyes. “Regrets… They’ve been bothering me for a while now, brother; they’ve become my everyday companions. But, my mind, when burdened, always, always finds peace in remembering our time in Florantine Guild. Our brethren…such memories of innocence and enthusiasm… I see our carefree faces, I feel relieved. When I meet my forefathers in the Afterlife, I’ll tell them: Despite my dereliction, I’m glad to have lived this life.”

“You can rest now, brother.”

The king closed his eyes for the last time as his whole person broke down into pieces of purple lights. The dud crystal floated a meter high, then absorbed all the purple lights almost ravaging, that the atmosphere around it shook. When all the purple lights entered to the tear-shaped crystal, it fell on the ground. Its color became dark blue, emanating a mysterious dim glow, the way normal aether crystals look like. He picked it up, saying to the burned bole of the tree: “Rest in peace, brother.” Then he returned home.

At first, he walked as slow as possible, wishing deep inside that Nero would return faster. But he shook his head. “That boy… If he knew I’m leaving, he’ll definitely come with me.”

Amé pondered as he hastened his pace. Before entering his workshop, he realized what he would do—what he would gift that poor, young nephew of his.