Chapter 133: The Threads that Connected [4]

"...I like you."

BOOOOM—!

The words she held back this whole time. She had finally managed to say it.

As soon as she did, she averted her gaze. She could feel her face start to flush. Her hands trembled and cold sweat protruded from her back.

BOOOM——!

Looking up, she could see the fireworks display had already started.

The beautiful myriad of colors registered in her eyes.

Her body started trembling, and a feeling of anxiety started kicking in.

She was nervous, embarrassed in fact.

And with such thoughts.

Tak. Tak. Tak.

"Rachel, wai–"

She sprinted off without ever looking back or listening to Brandon.

Clank—!

Instantly shutting the door closed, Rachel slumped down as she leaned on the door. Covering her face, she started murmuring to herself.

"Oh my god, I actually did it. I actually confessed to him."

Slap!

She slapped both sides of her cheek.

"Calm down, Rachel. Calm down..."

She eased her tension.

Standing up, she turned her head to look at the door. She wasn't able to see his reaction. Not like she allowed him to respond in the first place.

If she hears his response, she could feel like her heart would burst.

"This is enough..."

It was enough for now.

As long as she had managed to get her feelings across, then she was satisfied.

She didn't need a response at the moment. He could even reject her and she would be fine.

She just wanted him to know how she felt.

"Yes."

At that, she jumped and clenched her fist in the air.

In the end,

...This festival.

It was a mission success.

Satisfied, Rachel turned back around and descended the flight of stairs.

***

"Uh....?"

Staring at the door, Brandon stood perplexed.

Due to the loud booming sound of the fireworks, he was unable to hear Rachel's next words.

And as he tried to call out to her, she had already rushed towards the door.

What in the...

He scratched the side of his face.

Scratch. Scratch.

It was truly peculiar.

Brandon shrugged at that.

If Rachel didn't want to talk anymore, then it probably wasn't important.

He could just ask her to clarify anytime.

They were neighbors after all.

Turning around, he leaned his arms on the railing as he took the breathtaking sight before him.

The fireworks...

It was nostalgic.

Back in his world, his mother would take him to watch the fireworks display in the urban part of the city.

Since they lived in the rural side, it was quite the trip.

He smiled bitterly at the thought.

Even when they didn't have much, his mother would do everything she could just to make him happy.

She was the perfect mother.

Brandon gazed up and continued staring at the fireworks. His eyes sparkled in the same hue as the colors before him.

"...How are you doing, Mom?"

He extended his hands forward.

BOOM—!

The colorful light from the fireworks filtering his face as threads started loomed out of his fingertips.

"I just want to tell you that I'm okay."

Brandon helped himself up, standing on the railing. He took in the sight in front of him before gently closing his eyes.

With his eyes closed, as if he was playing the piano, Brandon started drumming his fingers in the air.

***

Situated in the far east of the country, with steep rocky mountains, the Azenia Valley.

The valley was scorched under the high sun. Jagged rocks and boulders were scattered around.

And...

A split by a huge rift that cut through the earth.

The chasm divided the valley with an oppressive atmosphere around it.

The heat was intense, making the air shimmer. The once colorful valley was now a dull mix of grays and browns. The few remaining plants were dry and brittle.

The drought had drained the land of life, leaving it barren.

Tents spread around as men and women, adorning black military uniforms, stood by on end.

The atmosphere was tense, each of them wearing anxious looks.

Ruffle~

But then, all heads flicked towards a tent as an imposing figure emerged from it.

With golden hair, and azure eyes, each step he took held a certain air of authority.

The Grand Marshal of the Imperial Army, Albert Constantine.

Behind him, another man followed closely.

With jet-black hair and hazel eyes, just like the Grand Marshal, he too imposed an air of authority.

Field Marshal, and the right hand of the Grand Marshal, Omar Locke.

As soon as they revealed themselves, all of the officers present straightened their backs and saluted on the spot.

Standing in the middle, with Omar right beside him, Albert waved his hand down and cleared his throat.

"Kuhum... At ease, soldiers."

As soon as those words left his mouth, the salute died down and the soldiers stood straight and poised.

"As you all know, two weeks ago, we sent out scouts to investigate the rift."

The atmosphere was silent and tense as they took in every word that left Albert's mouth.

Albert looked to the side, just before the cliff. Due to how large the rift was, it was easily discernible, despite it being situated in the valley.

He looked back at his officers and his face contorted to a sorrowful expression.

"They were given a deadline to return two weeks later. That's right, that day is today."

Albert looked around.

...And continued.

"But as you can see, there were no signs of them returning whatsoever. This has led us to believe that something has gone wrong in those two weeks."

He clenched his fist.

"Over 20 men in the S- rank were sent, and yet none had returned."

As soon as those words left his mouth, everyone's expressions cracked.

"This marks a huge loss in the history of the Imperial Army. But now we have an idea of what the rift entails."

A dejected look, mixed with frustration etched itself on the officer's present.

"Adding to the fact that Astrea Academy's Headmaster, an influential figure ranked SS- was one of the victims."

At that, fear started gripping the room. None had spoken as they digested each and every word that Albert spoke.

"The rift has been marked a hazard, and will now be under the difficulty of SS and above."

Step—

All of a sudden, a figure appeared in the vicinity. The speed in which he appeared had caught everyone off guard.

His light blue hair and light blue eyes deeply imprinted itself in everyone's mind. They had already known the man would participate in the upcoming incursion.

But the sight of him adorning his signature battle armor, along with his signature katana that was situated in his scabbard, had left everyone taken aback.

Nodding his head at the newcomer, Albert continued.

"But fret not, soldiers. For he has received our call, and has gladly accepted our request for assistance. Give your applause to the strongest ranker in the world, Lucian Frost."

Clap– Clap– Clap—

Albert stepped back and allowed Lucian to take the center of the stage.

Gripping the hilt of his katana, Lucian started his speech.

"My name is Lucian Frost, an SS+ ranker, and the strongest man in the world. As long as I'm present, do not fear your safety, for it will be guaranteed."

As always, his voice was monotonous, as if the entire ordeal was nothing to him.

Yet everyone present understood the weight of his words. Their expressions, once gripped with fear, now had a tinge of determination.

Lucian continued on with his speech.

Just like what was debriefed a few weeks ago, the incursion would take place next month.

To be exact, October 1, 2148.

Clap– Clap– Clap–

As soon as Lucian finished his speech, a fiery determination was evident in everyone's eyes as cheers and applause echoed in the air.

Standing just beside Albert, Omar looked at Lucian. With a smile plastered on his face, he nodded his head.

This was just what they needed.

The soldiers seemed disheartened the past two weeks.

But with the presence of Lucian, all of it changed.

As long as the strongest was present, the incursion was bound to be a success.

Were they going to return?

Yes.

Omar didn't doubt it.