[Arceid]


    The ruins of the battlefield stretched endlessly, scarred by the remnants of our devastating clash. Despite the aftermath, something rare had happened today—many students survived. A small victory in the grand scheme of things.


    I should have felt proud.


    Yet, as my gaze swept over the bloodied ground and shattered buildings, I felt… nothing. Death, blood, wounds—I’d grown numb to them all. Was this how it began? Was I slowly losing my humanity?


    A gentle hand rested on my shoulder, pulling me from my downward spiral.


    “Don’t overthink it, Arc. You’re not turning into a stone-cold bastard,” came the familiar voice.


    I turned to see Larissa Haven, my association partner. Her tall figure, wrapped in a crisp white shirt, black tie, and fitting slacks, contrasted with the delicate softness of her features. Silky, wavy blue hair cascaded over her shoulders, her teal eyes exuding natural charisma despite the exhaustion plastered on her face.


    She rarely dropped her usual bossy demeanor, but even she looked drained from battle.


    “…You sure?” I muttered, my voice hollow. “Azrael was bleeding… I didn’t even flinch. I watched him get battered again and again, and it didn’t bother me. I didn’t even think to stop him.”


    Larissa’s expression softened. “That’s not on you, Arc. Your brother… he’s something else. Either he’s insanely adaptable or just doesn’t give a damn about his own life.”


    “He’s always been like that,” I sighed. “Never asked for anything. Never caused trouble. Always… the perfect kid. I was the loud, reckless one. I used to bully him all the time, you know?”


    “You were just being a teenage big brother. It’s not that deep.”


    “No… it is.” My fists clenched. “The older he got, the more independent he became. Now he doesn’t need me… but seeing him throw his life away like that—it’s unbearable. I didn’t even have the guts to stop him.”


    Without hesitation, Larissa pulled me into a soft embrace, ruffling my hair as if I were a child. “You big baby… you just care too much. Why don’t you actually talk to him? Tell him not to do anything reckless like today.”


    “…He won’t listen.”


    “Then make him listen. You’re his big brother, Arc. Stop treating him like a stranger.”


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    “…Says the person treating me like a toddler.” I muttered, slightly annoyed at the affectionate head patting.


    Just then, a familiar chuckle pierced through the tension.


    “Awww… my cute baby brother getting pampered. That’s adorable.”


    My veins instantly popped. I turned, already glaring daggers at the smug, punchable face of Azrael. His tattered clothes, still soaked in dried blood, made his casual grin even more infuriating.


    “…You’re about to get your face caved in, gremlin.”


    “Whoa, whoa. What did I do?” Azrael laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender.


    Crack!


    I didn’t hesitate. My fist slammed into his shoulder, causing him to stagger back. “THAT’S for almost killing yourself, you idiot.”


    “Ow—damn, that was harder than Tride’s attack.”


    “Tride didn’t punch you, dumbass.”


    “Same difference,” Azrael muttered, massaging his shoulder.


    Larissa, still amused by our brotherly interaction, finally interjected. “I take it you’re Azrael? I’m Larissa Haven—Arc’s association partner. Nice to meet you.”


    Azrael immediately switched to polite mode, extending his hand. “Azrael Salisia. Nice to meet you too, ma’am.”


    “Ma’am? Damn, you’re formal.”


    “She’s old, so it fits.” I smirked.


    Another punch to my arm. This time from Larissa.


    “Ow—what the hell, Larissa?”


    Ignoring me, Azrael curiously asked, “So… did I pass my test?”


    Larissa blinked. “Test?”


    I sighed. “He wants to join Blue Fright. He probably thought surviving Tride could be his entrance exam.”


    A brief silence. Then Larissa let out an amused chuckle. “Ohhh. That’s what this was about. Honestly… I can’t think of a reason to say no.”


    Azrael’s face lit up. “Really?”


    “Really. Hell, I’d even suggest bringing along those two—Kaltain and Vesna. They were pretty capable too.”


    Azrael’s grin stretched ear to ear. “YES! I knew I picked the right people for my team.” His expression practically screamed praise me, you bastards. Of course, I ignored it.


    “…I’ll send out the official invitation later,” Larissa added, brushing off Azrael’s excitement. “For now, take care of yourself. And Arc—don’t overthink things.”


    “Yeah, yeah…”


    After Larissa left, Azrael turned to me, his smile dimming slightly. “Hey… don’t worry about me. I’ve got a strong mental fortitude. I’m not gonna turn into some mindless freak or commit atrocities with my powers.”


    “…Don’t lie to me, Azrael. You’d break the Geneva Conventions if you got pissed enough.”


    He let out a deep laugh. “Damn straight I would—especially if someone messed with you or Edith.”


    “…You do know the Geneva Conventions don’t exist anymore, right?”


    “…Oh. Yeah. Forgot we’re beyond nuclear warfare now.”


    A pause lingered. Then I spoke my mind. “…Are you really okay, though?”


    Azrael raised a brow.


    “I mean it,” I pressed. “You jumped headfirst into a battle you knew you couldn’t win. Took two students with you. Got battered to hell. Why?”


    His answer was quieter than I expected.


    “…Because they’re like me.”


    “…What?”


    “They don’t really have anything to live for. Vesna… She''s hiding something. Kaltain… he’s always teetering on the edge of nihilism. And me?” Azrael gave a bitter smile. “I’ve already died once. I get it.”


    His words froze me. I forgot—Azrael was nearly dead before.


    “So what? You’re trying to give them something to live for now?”


    “Yeah.” His smile softened. “I’m not gonna let them rot like I did.”


    A heavy silence stretched between us. I didn’t know whether to be proud of his selflessness or horrified at his disregard for his own life.


    “…Let’s table this talk for later,” I finally muttered. “Let’s go find Edith and get home.”


    Azrael shrugged. “Already met her. She’s curled up in her tent, probably still processing all this. I told her not to talk about me.”


    “Good. Only my closest allies know about your return.”


    Azrael smirked. “You mean like that woman who was practically mothering you earlier?”


    My fist immediately connected with his head.


    THUD!


    “OW! What the hell, Arc?”


    “Don’t start.”


    “…Seriously though,” Azrael continued, ignoring my death glare. “How many close people do you even have now?”


    “…Few. But they’re reliable.”


    Azrael fell uncharacteristically quiet, his expression unreadable. Then he flashed a faint smile.


    “…Guess I’ll have to keep living then. Can’t have you carrying everything alone.”


    For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The sheer weight of that sentence hit me harder than Tride’s attacks.


    “…Damn right you won’t,” I muttered, my voice cracked.


    Azrael grinned. “Race you back to camp?”


    “…You’re injured, you dumbass.”


    “Still gonna beat you.”


    And despite everything—his battered body, the blood, the horrors of battle—we laughed.