Chapter 444: The Quiet Days After the Moon Was Cut

The Quiet Days After the Moon Was Cut

It had been a few days since Victor’s sword strike had split one of the twin moons in half.

The consequences of that single attack had reached far beyond the battlefield.

Most of its terrifying impact had been felt across the Ancient Continent, where the aftermath of the strike had left traces that would not disappear anytime soon. The New Continent had not escaped untouched either. The difference was simply that the devastation here was far less severe.

Victor’s calamity had crossed continents.

Even when the main force of that sword strike had been directed elsewhere, the New Continent had still felt the tremor s.

The sky had changed.

The moon had been wounded.

For several nights afterward, people had stood outside their homes and stared upward, wondering whether another disaster would descend from the heavens.

But fear, no matter how intense, eventually became familiar.

And once fear became familiar, people began returning to their ordinary lives.

The initial scare gradually disappeared in New Fantom City. In fact, it faded much faster than the panic caused by the Elder Necromancer.

This time, no one had died.

That single fact made an enormous difference.

People were naturally afraid of the sight of one of the twin moons being cut in half. It was not something any ordinary person could simply shrug off. The moon had existed above them for generations, distant and eternal, something people believed would remain untouched no matter what happened below.

Then Victor had sliced through it.

Yet the people of New Fantom City had already endured hell once.

They had watched their city tremble beneath forces far beyond their understanding. They had seen death close enough to touch. Compared to those memories, a terrifying sight in the night sky—especially one that had caused no immediate casualties—was surprisingly easy for them to accept.

There were still rumors, of course.

Some said the gods had fought in the heavens.

Others claimed an ancient monster had awakened.

A few particularly imaginative drunkards insisted that the moon itself had angered some terrifying swordsman.

Most people simply went back to work.

Children returned to the streets.

Shopkeepers reopened their stores.

The guards resumed their patrols.

Life continued.

And somewhere within that recovering city, Videl walked beneath the morning sunlight with Aria beside her.

Videl had changed considerably since the days when she had first arrived in Fantom City.

Her long blonde hair moved gently behind her as she walked, catching the sunlight with every step. Her blue sapphire eyes remained alert as she scanned the streets, while the black leather pants and white long-sleeved shirt she wore gave her the appearance of someone who was ready to move at a moment’s notice.

But despite her capable appearance, there was someone walking beside her who had changed even more.

Aria.

Once, Aria had been a slave.

She had possessed almost nothing.

No home.

No family.

No future she could confidently call her own.

Her village had been destroyed, and the life she had known had disappeared with it.

But that girl was difficult to recognize now.

After receiving training from Max, who had quickly realized just how much natural talent she possessed, Aria had slowly transformed from a helpless former slave into a moderately capable knight.

Her movements had become steadier.

Her posture had changed.

Even the way she looked at people was different.

There was no longer that constant uncertainty in her eyes.

She had something now.

Strength.

A place she belonged.

And someone who had believed she could become more.

Max had taken her training seriously from the beginning.

At first, he had simply intended to teach her enough to protect herself.

Then he discovered her talent.

After that, things changed.

One lesson became several.

Several became daily training.

And eventually, Max began treating Aria almost like his own daughter.

He had bought her proper equipment.

Armor.

Weapons.

Everything he believed a knight should have.

Aria had protested repeatedly.

She had been perfectly content using equipment she could afford herself.

She didn’t want expensive gifts.

She certainly didn’t want to take anything that carried sentimental value.

But Max had been stubborn.

Perhaps too stubborn.

The greatest problem came when he offered her the sword that had been preserved by his family as an heirloom.

Aria had immediately refused.

That sword was too important.

She could not accept something like that.

Yet Max’s reaction had been completely unexpected.

The normally stern man had nearly cried.

That alone had left Aria speechless.

In the end, she had reluctantly accepted the family heirloom.

Now the sword rested at her waist.

Though she still carried another weapon as well—the one she personally preferred using.

Her armor was hydra armor imbued with magical properties, fitted closely enough that it did not interfere with movement. Two swords hung at her waist, their hilts occasionally tapping lightly against her armor whenever she walked.

Aria still felt uncomfortable about the expense.

She had told Max more than once that she could purchase her own equipment.

He had ignored her every single time.

Videl had witnessed the entire process.

And even now, she still couldn’t quite believe how much Max had changed.

The man who had once seemed so serious had somehow turned into an overprotective father the moment Aria entered his life.

Videl glanced sideways.

Aria was quietly watching the road ahead.

After a few moments, Videl smiled.

"You know, Aria, if you keep accepting things from Max like this, eventually you’ll have an entire armory."

Aria’s cheeks puffed slightly.

"I didn’t want the sword."

"I know."

"I told him I didn’t want it."

"I know."

"He nearly cried."

Videl’s lips twitched.

"That part was probably the reason you surrendered."

Aria looked away.

"...Maybe."

Videl laughed softly.

"You really are too soft-hearted."

Aria glanced back at her.

"You’re one to talk."

"Me?"

"You let everyone spoil you."

Videl placed a hand against her chest with exaggerated offense.

"That’s completely different."

"How?"