thief of fate-Chapter 101: After the fight

A week had passed...

And no one had forgotten.

The city had become like a hospital—quiet not with peace, but with exhaustion. Exhaustion of bones, hearts, and souls.

The northern wing had been entirely allocated to the wounded... men and women, warriors, even some servants who had been dragged into the madness, now lay there motionless.

In one of the quiet rooms, where the light was dim and the scent of medicinal herbs lingered in the air...

Leonard lay on his bed.

His face pale, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm, yet he had not lost consciousness.

His eyes were open... staring silently at the ceiling, as if watching memories that had never left.

Everyone passing through the hallway whispered:

—"His condition... is somewhat stable."

But they didn’t know that what hurt him most wasn’t the wound, but the silence that had imprinted itself inside him.

He listened to the footsteps, to the creak of the door, and each time hoped it would be his parents...

But it was someone else. Alistair never missed a day without visiting him, sitting in silence, telling him everything that was happening.

"Sigurd’s a madman... Looks like he’d shoot an arrow even when he’s dead."

Leonard smiled faintly, as if something within him remembered life.

In a sealed private wing...

Kyle.

Submerged in machines, surrounded by the best doctors, the most expensive treatment tools.

King Yaram had ordered everything possible to be brought from across the continent—just to save this young man.

He sometimes opened his eyes slowly, not knowing where he was.

The doctor would then whisper:

—"Wake up, hero... the world is waiting for you."

But Kyle would not respond, only a lost gaze... and silence.

Then he would close his eyes again.

On another bed... Rain.

A legend of fire... turned into a charred corpse that still breathed.

He had only been touched through rare means, for nothing in his body allowed touch without burning.

A young doctor stood near him, whispering:

"His body... it’s as if it’s still in the heart of battle. His heart beats, but he doesn’t want to wake up... as if he’s waiting."

His face... barely visible.

His features distorted, hair burned, body covered in layers of blackness...

But he was alive.

And yet, no one dared to wake him.

For who knows what might return with him if he did?

As for Sigurd...

He was laid out, every bone broken.

But the strange thing? His right hand was still clutched around his bow.

Doctors tried to release it...

They failed.

"As if he doesn’t trust anyone... even while we treat him," said one of them.

His eyes were half open, not speaking, not blinking, but his body in a strange state... as if something within him had not accepted that the battle was over.

Some said Sigurd would remain like this forever, others said he’d awaken at the cry of the next battle.

In the hallways...

Selena walked between the beds, checking the wounded, helping, often silent, praying in a faint voice.

And in the heart of the palace, King Yaram stood silently before the window.

"We’ve bled too much."

He whispered.

And despite a week passing...

The shadow still lingered.

The sky did not rain.

But the eyes did.

Valerian, who survived the red flood, walked the long hallways with calm steps... as if weighing each one.

He reached Kyle’s room.

The guards stood firm, their eyes fixed, giving him no room even to ask.

One of them said:

"No entry. The doctors are inside. His condition... critical."

Valerian wanted to step forward.

Just a glance, just to see his friend’s face, to glimpse something reassuring...

But the strong hand on his chest was like a wall.

He sighed, looked at the door, then whispered words no one heard:

"You’re stronger than this, Kyle... don’t do this to me."

He turned away.

The composed face wasn’t quite so anymore... fatigue cracks had seeped into his features.

He headed to Rain’s room.

"I’d like to see him," he told the guard.

But the reply didn’t change:

"Not allowed. His condition is unstable."

He pursed his lips.

He said nothing, just looked at the door... then whispered a single word, light, bare, a mix of plea and provocation:

"Wake..."

And as the word dissolved in the air...

He felt something strange.

The air changed.

As if the room was panting.

As if the walls were sweating.

He turned, and his eyes widened.

Rain...

The charred body, still as stone, began to change.

The flames returned.

Slowly... creeping from his chest, his palms, his spine.

But they were not ordinary...

They were pure flames, shifting in color between bluish white and radiant gold, as if a sun was being reborn inside him.

His body began to regenerate.

Cells burned and formed simultaneously.

Muscles expanded, skin returned smooth and glowing... hair grew like dancing flame.

But the strangest thing... the air around him began to collapse inward.

Absorption.

Energy particles in the room, the walls, anywhere nearby... began to move toward him.

As if the entire world was feeding this body.

"He’s... transcending,"

Said the doctor who watched from behind the glass.

And suddenly...

The room exploded.

Not with fire... but with power.

Like a wave of energy that pushed everyone in the hallway back.

Doors shattered, walls shook, and all the lights exploded.

And in the midst of the rubble... stood Rain.

Standing, upright, his body glowing as if he were a walking blade.

His eyes gleamed with pure yellow, and inside them burned an unforgiving flame.

He spoke loudly, his voice ringing like a declaration:

"I won’t die... not that easily. I still have a hell you haven’t seen yet."

Then he smiled... that wide smile Valerian knew well.

"Hero rank, huh? I thought it would take me months, damn... I really was over-resting."

Valerian stepped forward, his heartbeat racing...

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t wait, just embraced him.

Silence for a moment.

Then Rain’s arrogant voice:

"Oh... don’t tell me you actually believed I’d die?"

"You... were completely burned..."

Rain laughed, put his hand on Valerian’s shoulder, and said mockingly:

"I don’t burn. I am the fire."

Then he continued as he walked through the rubble:

"Don’t cry later if I steal all the glory again..."

But despite the sarcastic words, his eyes held something else.

The look of a warrior... returned from death, and no longer the same.

In the next moment after waking, there was no room for rest.

Rain, whose body still pulsed with remnants of white flame, pushed off the cover from his regenerated burnt body, placing his feet on the ground... ground that couldn’t bear his heat.

The air around him was still charged with energy.

And before he could fully stand, doctors rushed in.

"Sir! You can’t stand yet! We need to verify your vital signs, your body temperature..."

"Save your breath... I’m alive. That’s more than enough."

His voice was firm, decisive, filled with unbreakable confidence.

Another doctor tried to approach:

"But your body is still..."

Rain raised his hand without touching, and a faint glow surged...

The very air pushed the doctor back.

Claire entered at that moment, walking quickly:

"Rain! Stop. Don’t be a fool. Even you... can’t stand up this fast!"

He turned toward her.

A quick glance was enough to show his stance.

"You always thought I’d die. Maybe it’s time you saw who survived the tongues of the sun."

She approached him, gripped his arm firmly:

"I won’t let you leave."

But he easily freed himself, not with harshness... just resolve.

Then he looked toward one of the rooms... and froze for a moment.

It was the room where Kyle lay.

Surrounded by machines, tubes, lights, doctors, heavy silence... everything about it felt like final breaths.

Rain paused for a moment, his eyes glinting faintly.

But he said nothing.

He just kept walking.

He opened the door forcefully, the air burning around him as he crossed the threshold, then said in a voice heard by all:

"Survival isn’t a choice. It’s my favorite habit."

And left.

Valerian, who followed him in silence, sighed deeply, as if surrendering to his nature:

"Same stubborn bastard..."

Everyone stepped aside.

But in the next hallway, a girl stood.

Evelyn.

Wearing a simple white dress, her clear eyes fixed on him, a fine cloth bandage with delicate patterns covering her right eye.

When she saw him, Claire quietly stepped aside... giving them space.

Valerian stood before her, reading something heavy, painful in her silence.

She spoke softly:

"I saw everything. As I always did... but what happened wasn’t as I saw it before."

He stepped closer, looked at her tired face, and at the bandage covering her eye.

He said:

"Your eye...?"

She smiled sadly, wiping a tear before it fell:

"Yes... I see more now, but at a cost."

Silence fell between them.

Then she lifted her head toward him:

"Valerian... this was only the beginning."

He looked at her silently.

She continued:

"The coming... is worse. Bigger. Nothing we know will remain the same."

He raised an eyebrow:

"A new prophecy?"

She shook her head:

"No... a feeling. Inside. As if the world itself is shrinking from fear. As if the darkness is still waiting for its chance..."

He reached out, gently patted her shoulder.

"When it comes... we’ll be ready."

She smiled with fatigue:

"I hope time is enough... before the final door opens."