The journey back to Azalith seemed longer than ever.

Not because of the time—but because of the weight.

The forest surrounding the city was silent, unlike before. No roars of monsters, no distant echoes of spells in combat. Only the rustling of the wind through the trees and the timid singing of a few birds that dared to return.

Kael walked slowly, his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on the horizon. The setting sun tinged the sky with gold and orange, reflecting on the smoldering ruins that marked the distant outline of the ancient magical capital.

Azalith still stood—but like a newly reborn phoenix, shrouded in ashes.

When he crossed the outer gates, the sound immediately struck him.

Hammers. Voices. Reconstruction spells. Tired laughter.

The streets, once covered in rubble and flames, were now beginning to regain their form.

Sorcerers and stonemasons worked side by side. Runes floated above broken columns, stitching the cracks with lines of bluish light. Children carried baskets of bricks with small levitation spells, proud to be able to help.

Kael observed all this in silence, walking slowly down the main avenue.

Every face he saw was a reminder—of luck and tragedy.

Many had survived, yes.

But the look of loss, the weariness in their expressions, the silent grief... were everywhere.

Umbra floated beside him, more translucent than ever. Her tone, for the first time since the hellish events, was subdued.

"They really came back quickly."

Kael simply nodded. "That's what humans do. They fall. And they get up."

"With stubbornness."

"With necessity."

Umbra glanced at him. "You speak as if you weren't one of them."

Kael gave a half-smile. "Sometimes I think I'm not either." He continued walking. He passed a square where a massive broken statue—once a symbol of the founding of Azalith—was being slowly re-erected by a group of veteran mages. The supporting runes formed an arch over the stone head of the figure, which seemed to observe them with an ancient serenity.

Further on, an old tavern keeper was distributing hot soup to a group of hungry civilians. When Kael passed, she recognized him, even under his torn cloak and unshaven beard.

"Kael!" she shouted, smiling. "You're alive, boy! By the gods, I thought you'd gone with the last mana collapse!"

Kael just nodded with a small smile. "It seems it's not my time yet, Mrs. Lira."

"Well, make sure you don't die before dinner! We have root stew with dried meat tonight!"

He gave a short laugh and continued walking. Umbra, hovering near his shoulder, murmured: "She seems to like you."

Kael replied without turning his face: "She likes to feed anyone who breathes."

"Then you're still qualified."

He didn't answer. He just started walking faster, his heart tightening as the silhouette of the Academy began to appear ahead—still partially destroyed, but alive.

The old central tower was covered in magical scaffolding. Crystal pillars stabilized the broken sections of the north and east wings. Groups of apprentices worked tirelessly, guided by professors and master craftsmen.

It was strange to see it like this.

The same Academy that had been the scene of arcane wars, where he had faced creatures and mana storms, now seemed like a huge anthill organized by hope.

As he crossed the main gates, Kael recognized some familiar figures.

Irelia, dressed in her adapted ceremonial uniform, controlled a group of students with the precision of a general. She gestured, issuing short, direct orders:

"No, no, that rune will collapse if you reverse the flow! Do it like I showed you!"

Sylphie, on the other hand, seemed to be in ten places at once—literally. Three illusions of herself ran back and forth, adjusting protective seals and delivering reports. Her real self was near the entrance, checking floating notes and talking to magical engineers.

And Amelia…

Amelia was hunched over a group of open grimoires, her hair haphazardly tied back and her sleeves rolled up. Traces of charcoal covered her hands as she drew reconstruction circles on the ground.

The contrast between the three was almost comical—and comforting.

Even tired, they were in motion. Even wounded, they were alive.

Kael paused for a moment just to observe them.

Umbra murmured softly, "You should talk to them."

He took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yes."

He took a few steps forward, crossing the rebuilt courtyard. The sound of spells and conversations diminished as people recognized him. Whispers began to spread—after all, many had considered Kael missing, perhaps dead.

When Amelia saw him, she froze for an instant.

"…Kael?"

He raised his hand in a casual greeting. "Hi."

"KAEL!"

The shout was collective.

Sylphie practically teleported to him, stopping a few meters away with a look mixed with relief and irritation. "YOU—! Where, in the name of all the planes, were you?!"

Irelia approached shortly after, her expression controlled, but her eyes betrayed the same relief. "We thought you had… well, you know."

"Died?" Kael finished, raising an eyebrow. "I've heard that a few times today."

Amelia stomped her feet, her hands still dirty with charcoal. "Don't joke about that! You disappeared in the middle of the collapse! We thought you had been swallowed by the portal!"

Kael shrugged, with that tired air of someone trying to appear calm. "I went to solve a problem."

"A PROBLEM?!" Sylphie shouted, incredulous. "YOU DISAPPEAR FOR TWO DAYS AND SAY YOU WENT TO SOLVE A PROBLEM?!"

"Two days?" Kael repeated, frowning. "I thought it had been less."

"Of course you did!" Irelia retorted, crossing her arms. "Time in the lower planes isn't the same as ours. You could have been trapped there for weeks!"

Kael looked away, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah… luckily, that wasn't the case."

Amelia scoffed. "Luckily? Kael, you could have died!"

"I've heard that too."

Sylphie mumbled something unintelligible and turned her back, taking a deep breath. "I swear, if I wasn't so relieved, I'd slap you right now."

"Get in line for that." Kael muttered, remembering Umbra.

It was then that he saw—a little further away, near the side gate of the Academy, surrounded by guards and some councilors—the princess.

She was dressed in a simple white robe, embroidered with silver threads, nothing of the luxury from before. Even so, she maintained a serene, firm demeanor. She was helping to reorganize documents and talking with a group of elder mages.

When her eyes met Kael's, she froze. A brief moment of silence fell over the courtyard.

Kael walked slowly towards her, his hands still in his pockets, his expression neutral.

"Your Highness."

"Kael," she replied, lifting her chin with a slight, restrained smile. "I'm relieved to see you... alive."

"It seems that's become the comment of the day."

"Rightly so," she retorted calmly. "We were worried. Some believed you had been taken with the explosion."

Kael tilted his head slightly. "Not that far. Just far enough to need a forced landing."

The corner of the princess's lips curved into a brief smile—almost imperceptible, but real. "I'm glad you're back."

He nodded. "And you? Are you alright?"

"Now I am," she replied, looking around. "The reconstruction has begun. The people... are trying to move on."

"I saw that," Kael replied, his gaze lost in the structures being erected. "It's good to see the city breathing again."

For a moment, silence.

Then, he turned to Sylphie, who was still trying to compose herself after her anger.

"And the director? How is he?"

Sylphie sighed, adjusting the papers in her hands. "Better. He woke up yesterday. Still weak, but he's already giving orders again—or at least, he's trying. The entire council has been in a meeting since dawn."

"Great." Kael ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "I need to talk to him."

Amelia crossed her arms, looking at him suspiciously. "May I ask again where, exactly, you went to solve this 'problem'?"

Kael gave a half-smile. "You can ask. That doesn't mean I'll answer."

Amelia scoffed, indignant. "You're impossible!"

"I've heard that before."

Irelia shook her head, laughing softly. "At least his sense of humor survived the fall."

"Among other things," Kael added. "But I think I've had enough adrenaline for a lifetime."

Sylphie grumbled: "Hopefully."

Umbra, invisible to everyone else, hovered behind him and murmured softly, ironically: "They have no idea what you've been through."

Kael responded only with a sidelong glance and a silent thought: better that way.

The courtyard returned to its natural rhythm—spells being cast, orders echoing, magic vibrating in the air. Life went on.

And Kael, however exhausted he was, felt a strange weight lift from his shoulders.

He was back.

Azalith was breathing.

And, for the first time in a long time, the chaos seemed distant—even if only for an instant.

The princess watched him in silence, as if trying to decipher something in him.

Kael noticed, but didn't comment. He simply looked away towards the sky, where the first stars were beginning to appear.

"Welcome back, Kael," she said, finally.

He gave a slight, weary smile. "It's good to be back."

And, as night fell over Azalith, the bells of the Academy rang—not in alarm, but as a sign of reconstruction.

Of rebirth.

Kael looked around one last time before entering through the gates of the main tower.

Hell was behind him.

But something told him that, within those walls, the real challenges were yet to come.