The sound of boots trampling the cracked, wind-torn battlefield echoed through the morning silence.
Dozens of elite squad members marched forward, weapons drawn in case of any remaining threats, their expressions tight with anticipation. The air still carried the residual crackle of mana and scorched earth—traces of the chaos that had transpired not long ago.
Evelyn stood in the center of the field, her cloak billowing with the wind. Her gaze remained locked on the boy lying unconscious amidst dust and debris, his limbs severed, blood dried on the ground beneath him.
Just then, Sylph broke from the front of the squad, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Marshal!" she shouted, dropping beside Reyon, eyes wide. "His limbs…!"
She reached for his neck, fingers trembling as she checked his pulse. One breath passed. Then two.
"He's… alive," she exhaled in relief, lowering her head, a mixture of tension and gratitude washing over her face. "Barely, but he's alive!"
The other healers immediately began to move, reaching for their staffs and spell catalysts, their magic circles forming with practiced speed.
But Evelyn's voice cut through the moment like a blade. "Stop."
The healers froze mid-cast. One of them looked up. "Marshal…?"
Evelyn's gaze darkened. "Do not heal his limbs."
Sylph turned, confused. "But why…? Marshal, if we don't—"
"Don't question it here," Evelyn replied in a low, firm tone. "This event must not be shared with anyone outside of Phoenix."
Sylph took a step back, eyes searching Evelyn's, silently asking for an explanation. Evelyn met her stare and lowered her voice.
"Reyon has lost his sanity," she said gravely. "If we fully heal him… and he wakes up like that again… he won't stop. He'll kill everyone in sight."
Sylph's expression stiffened, words catching in her throat.
"We need time," Evelyn continued. "Time to figure out how to cleanse the dark mana. Until then, we keep him weakened. He can't cast anything without his limbs."
"…I understand," Sylph said quietly, her fists clenched.
[Time skip — One week later, Main Palace, Phoenix Household]
The marble hall of the Phoenix main palace was filled with tense silence. The long table, carved from ancient flamewood, seated the marshals of the realm. Gold-threaded drapes fluttered as a cold breeze passed through the open ceiling vent.
Evelyn stepped forward at the center, her face pale from exhaustion but composed. Behind her, Reyon lay unconscious on a medical cot, pale, breathing slow, his left arm and right leg completely missing.
"As I have reported," Evelyn began, "Reyon defeated Cerberus. But... the cost was steep."
A murmur ran through the room. Marshal Derox stood up, fists slamming onto the table. His usually collected face contorted with frustration.
"That's why I always wanted him in Phoenix!" he growled. "Under our supervision. Now look at him. We might lose the legacy of Lord Leywin himself, and all because no one listened!"
The room quieted at his words. Cold Sword, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward from her seat. Her eyes held sorrow as she walked toward Reyon and knelt beside him.
She gently touched his forehead, her expression softening.
"He's suffered so much," she murmured. "When he was finally acknowledged... this happened."
The air turned heavy. No one dared speak.
Then Edward, seated on the Patriarch's throne at the far end of the hall, slowly rose. His golden eyes scanned each face, his voice heavy with responsibility.
"So what do you suggest, Evelyn?" he asked. "You fought alongside him even in that state. How do we resolve this?"
Evelyn stood straight and took a breath before replying.
"There is no way we would subdue our own blood with force," she said, her tone iron. "First, we keep Reyon under high-security surveillance. We would not heal his limbs… not until he regains his sanity."
Several marshals nodded grimly.
"To remove the dark mana…" Evelyn continued, "There is a way."
All eyes focused on her.
"It's the Cerberus's core. If we embed it into the Ring of Ferica, it might stabilize his mind and purge the corruption."
Edward crossed his arms. "The Cerberus core is massive. And the Ring's slot is barely the size of a gem seed. How are we going to compress that core into something that fits?"
"There's someone who can do it," Evelyn replied, her eyes serious. "Our mother."
The room fell silent. Even Derox's usual grumbling stopped.
Edward's eyes narrowed. "You're certain she's willing to help?"
"She will," Evelyn said without hesitation. "If she learns Reyon is in this state, she won't turn away."
Edward nodded after a long pause. "Very well. Prepare the carriage. We are moving at dawn."
[Scene shift — Carriage on the move, approaching Horizon's border]
Inside the heavily guarded carriage, Reyon lay unconscious, his body wrapped in insulating magic cloths. Two 7th circle elite guards sat outside each door, and mana seals lined the wooden walls.
Evelyn sat inside with her eyes closed, her fingers loosely touching the base of her neck where her father's pendant used to hang.
"It'll be alright," she whispered under her breath. "Mother will know what to do…"
[Scene shift — World beyond Phoenix]
The continent buzzed with news. Markets, taverns, guild halls—everywhere, people spoke the same name.
"Did you hear?"
"Of course I did! Reyon Phoenix defeated the berserker Cerberus!"
"Just under twenty, and he's already on par with a fully fledged 8th-circle mage!"
"They say he cut Cerberus into millions of pieces with a single spell."
"Second coming of Lord Leywin… that's what they're calling him."
Reyon's name traveled like wildfire, whispered in awe, shouted in celebration. Cities rang bells in his honor. Nobles sent letters. Some feared. Many worshipped.
But within the sealed halls of Phoenix, a different truth lay hidden.
No one outside knew what he had become.
No one outside knew the cost.
Not yet.