The village of Fenralis lay quiet at last. Smoke still curled from broken rooftops, and the faint scent of charred wood hung in the air. The streets were empty, save for a few villagers cautiously emerging from hiding.  

Kijotsu staggered forward, his gray eyes heavy with exhaustion. Every step reminded him of the chaos that had just passed. His chest ached—not just from physical fatigue, but from the weight of helplessness he had felt watching Notsu fight.  

Notsu Manajika knelt on the ground, his massive sword lying beside him. His red armor was scorched and dented, and blood stained the side of his face. He looked up at Kijotsu, a faint, pained smile on his lips.  

- “You survived… that’s all that matters for now,” Notsu whispered, voice weak.  

Kijotsu’s hands trembled as he dropped to his knees beside his mentor.  

*It hurts… so much… I was useless…*  

Then, a soft voice called from behind him:  

- “Kijotsu?”  

He turned slowly, and there she was—**Kinata**. Her long hair shimmered in the sunlight, her eyes warm but cautious. Relief and something deeper surged through Kijotsu’s chest.  

*Kinata… she’s here…*  

They approached each other, hesitant at first. Memories of their past encounters flickered in Kijotsu’s mind—the small moments of friendship, laughter, and unspoken feelings.  

- “I… I thought I’d lost you,” Kijotsu said, voice barely above a whisper.  

- “You’re alive… that’s all I care about,” Kinata replied, reaching out her hand.  

Their fingers brushed, and an electric warmth spread through Kijotsu’s chest. For the first time since arriving in Fenralis, a sense of peace touched him.  

The village seemed to breathe around them, finally safe. Notsu’s breathing steadied slightly, and even the villagers began to emerge, witnessing the calm after the storm.  

*I… I survived. We survived…* Kijotsu thought, his gaze fixed on Kinata.  

And as the sun dipped below the red spires of Fenralis, painting the sky in gold and crimson, Kijotsu and Kinata leaned closer. Their lips met, soft and tentative, sealing a moment of hope and connection amid a world filled with chaos.  

It was a quiet promise—of love, of strength, and of battles yet to come.