Nihar's funeral is held in the chapel of the headquarters. Golden chandeliers lit up the place with their many candles. The scent of incense mixed with the scent of grief waft through the air. Because the chapel is too small to accommodate everyone, only the Aragons have attended the funeral, and there are thirteen of them, including Raia. They are dressed in black suits and dresses.

Antoine came as well; he arrived this morning. However, he is more upset with what happened to Nihar's Blessing than Nihar himself. Raia finds his presence repulsive, and each time he speaks, she grows more disappointed with him. What little respect she has for him has vanished. He may have the authority or right to issue a command, but hurting someone for a petty reason is beyond the pale. She will not tolerate such behavior. She will not let such a person control her life.

Her stomach churns with rage when the image of him slapping Raiden flashes through her mind. How could he attack such a defenseless boy simply for expressing his opinion? Disgusting human.

She turns her gaze away from Antoine, who is sitting in the front pew, and toward the altar, where a golden urn containing Nihar's ashes is placed. It is adorned with a silver cross, and lilies surround the wooden table.

A group of laities was dispatched yesterday to retrieve Nihar's remains from the abandoned church in the forest on the outskirts of North Panacea. Regrettably, his family is not invited due to the rule that non-members are not permitted to enter any Nirvana Order headquarters.

Cyrus has already written to his family to express his condolences and gratitude for the man's devotion, sacrifices, and selflessness. Most of the staff, including Cyrus, understand how difficult that must be for the family, but a law is a law, and it must be strictly enforced. The ashes of a deceased Nirvana Order member will be kept at the headquarters.

A laity was sent to Leonhard's residence to bring comfort to their grieving souls in order to prevent them from falling into despair and being possessed by a lost spirit.

Raia notices new faces inside the chapel. One is a girl named Missy, who sits in the front pew as Raiden, Nathan, and Sunshine. Missy is an Aragon from the Samaelean Branch and will temporarily join the Mikaelean forces for some unknown reason. She arrived two days ago. From what Raia heard, Nihar went to Alhena town three days ago for his mission. Missy was sent to find him after they hadn't heard from him in three days. Missy was devastated to learn of Nihar's death upon her return.

Another girl, whose name Raia has not yet learned, sits in the back pew opposite her. She has silky pale pink hair that falls to her waist. Her face is buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking. She arrived about a half-hour ago.

Ian is sitting on the pew behind Antoine. Jade and Kris are sitting next to him.

Raia returns her gaze to her three comrades. They seem to have simmered down. They don't cry as much as they used to, but their eyes still express deep sadness. Seeing them like that bothers her in some way. She feels compelled to alleviate their grief in the same way that she heals their pain. To see the sparkle in their eyes again.

"Raia." Cyrus's soft voice jolts Raia out of her reverie, and a shadow falls over her. She looks up to see him standing in the aisle next to the pew she is sitting in.

"Bishop Galbraith," Raia greets.

Cyrus looks different in his dark suit because it is the first time Raia sees him wearing anything other than his Bishop attire. He's actually a good-looking man, and that suit accentuates that. He is clean-shaven, and his caramel hair is slicked back.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asks, pushing up his glasses.

Raia nods.

Cyrus smiles gently and ruffles her hair before proceeding to the altar to deliver Nihar's eulogy. Raia's gaze darts around as she listens to the words. The pink-haired girl's body is shaking as she cries even harder. No one is sharing a seat with her; they must be giving her privacy, which seems to be exactly what she needs. Looking at her, she must have been very close to Nihar.

"Raia," comes a familiar gentle voice.

Raia turns around to find Sonnet standing behind her. The woman is also dressed in black, and her long blonde hair is still damp. Raia is a bit surprised seeing her appearance. Sonnet usually wears her hair up in a bun, so this is the first time she's seen her with it down. It suits her better; she looks years younger.

"Can I sit with you?" Sonnet asks with a smile.

Raia nods and scoots over to give her some room. Sonnet takes a seat next to her and fixes her gaze ahead, watching Cyrus. As if sensing Raia's gaze, she looks at her and smiles gently, a sparkle in her eyes. Raia's chest fills with warmth, similar to how she felt when Cyrus welcomed her back. It is soothing and pleasant, evoking a comforting feeling of belonging.

***

Clad in a white one-piece dress, Raia stands on the balcony of a massive cathedral, watching the crisp blue sky, scattered clouds, the sun, and birds darting overhead. She leans against the railing and gazes down at the leafy paradise. Oak trees stretch away from the wrinkled floor, their leaves rustling in the wind. In the distance, a horse-drawn carriage rolls along the road, and she lets her eyelids droop as a light, warm breeze brushes her cheeks and ruffles her hair and the hem of her dress.

It looks peaceful and soothing in the sense that there are no demons threatening their world or disciples bound by obligations, a world where humans live a life of their own choosing. But true freedom is a distant dream. She's known that since she was a child. She may have escaped from the orphanage, but freedom remains out of her grasp. But what exactly is freedom?

Back in the orphanage, Raia yearned for freedom. She desired to be free of the caretakers' grasp and to get rid of the healing power she despised. She wished to live a life free of them. After meeting Simon and being adopted by him, she thought she had finally gained her freedom.

She was wrong.

Gods, demons, and disciples. She never thought those things existed, and she had no idea they were much more complicated than she could have imagined. Demons in this world are the result of humans' resentment of life, disrupting the balance of the world. They were once innocent people who became victims of a cruel world, much like darkness is born from light. But they, like Raia, only desire something.

Raia does not believe in good and evil. No one is born on either side because all humans are commingled out of both.

However, sometimes people go so far as to give up their humanity in order to achieve their goals, resulting in world imbalance. They mutate into demonic beings known as Outcasts; evil weapons that lead to the destruction of the world they despise. Their souls are corrupted, and they become the world's representation of the term "evil." Then there are disciples of Lights, who represent the term 'good.'

That is how good and evil are born; that is how heroes and villains emerge in their world.

But, for Raia, both are illusions. There are no heroes or villains; only people with desires.

And Raia is just someone who desires something.

She opens her eyes and looks at her palms. Her desire is freedom. But will destroying demons get her there? What will happen to her once the evil creatures are exterminated and their world is once again peaceful and pure? Will she still be a healer? Will she be able to find her freedom?

For a moment, she allows herself to drown in her tangled thoughts. She had always blamed her gift, but she had never imagined that being free of it was always within her grasp. When she finally accepted her gift during the nightmare, she felt a warm comfort wash over her insides, as if she had been freed from a curse.

She can't get rid of her healing power, so she has to accept it.

I accepted it, and it accepted me. Maybe that's why I can regenerate quickly now.

It saved me.

A wave of determination surges through her veins, washing the resentment from the surface of her consciousness. Having such skill grants her a significant advantage in defeating her opponents. Getting hurt will be the least of her concerns. It doesn't matter how deep or many her wounds are, as long as she wins in the end.

To fully grasp freedom, she must eliminate the demons who have befouled and ruined their world.

She has to win to achieve her goal.

"Raia?"

She turns around and greets Raiden with a frown.

Raiden blinks as if surprised. He's dressed casually in a loose shirt and vest, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. His mouth then curls in a smile. He walks forward and leans against the railing next to Raia. He sighs and raises his gaze to the sky.

Raia looks at him, puzzled, a wind blowing through their hair.

"Do you know why I prefer to be called 'Kara'?" Raiden says, his gaze fixed on the sky.

Raia scrunches up her brows in confusion, but she remains silent, knowing that Raiden will continue to speak.

"I have no recollection of my past," Raiden continues. "I just knew that when I woke up, I was in this place with no memories. I don't even know who I am. That was two years ago. I don't have a name, memories, family, emotions, or anything else. Bishop Galbraith is the one who told me my name, and the people in the headquarters soon became my family."

Silence falls between them as they watch the birds fly. Raiden then turns to face Raia. "Of course, I still want to know who my real family is, but I guess that's a distant dream for me. Bishop Galbraith informed me that they had found me unconscious inside an abandoned house. Alone.

"Do you know that I really have no idea how old I am? After becoming friends with Nathan, I assumed I was only a year younger than him because he is taller." Raiden lets out a dry chuckle and returns his gaze to the bluish sky.

Raia frowns, lost in thought, recalling what Cyrus and Nathan told her about Raiden.

Raiden looks at her again, this time with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "That's why I wanted to be called 'Kara' because it's the only thing my family and I have in common. Every time I hear that name, it's as if I'm being reminded of the people I've forgotten about."

Silence reigns. Raiden lowers his gaze, his smile slowly fading. He returns his gaze to the sky.

Raia can feel her stomach churning as she listens to the wind humming softly in their ears. She, like Raiden, wished to meet her family, but she had long since abandoned that wish and never looked back. If her family doesn't like her enough to dump her in an orphanage, Raia shouldn't bother looking for such people. But if they were already dead, that's all the more reason not to look for them.

She grew up without them, so she can live her life without knowing who they are.

She looks at Raiden, who is staring up at the sky. His face is etched with a soft smile, and his hair is fluttering in the wind. He looks calm and relaxed, much like their surroundings. Raia can't help but feel at ease.

"I . . . I grew up in an orphanage," Raia starts, her eyes fixed on the forest below.

Raiden blinks, a surprised expression on his face as if he didn't expect Raia to suddenly start talking about herself.

"I had no idea who my parents were until now," Raia continues. "I'm not sure if they're still alive. But, I have no desire or plan to look for them. I just don't care anymore. The orphanage . . . when they found out about my healing ability, they treated me like a tool. They forced me to heal injured people on a daily basis, including those who were dying. If I didn't comply, they threatened to deprive me of food and even lock me up until I agreed to be their healer." She pauses and meets Raiden's gaze. "They used me to garner golds."

Raiden gasps in horror, his eyes widening. Then his brows slant down, revealing his rage.

Looking at his face, Raia is relieved and grateful that he doesn't express pity. His expression is a natural reaction. It's not an act or a disguise. He is sincere.

Raia lowers her head, a faint smile forming on her lips. She's not sure why she suddenly confided in him, but she's glad she did. Talking to him, surprisingly, makes her feel better; it lifts some of the weight that has been weighing on her.

Composing himself, Raiden replaces the shock and anger on his face with a gentle smile. His golden eyes shine as he looks at her.

"Thank you for telling me this, Raia," Raiden says softly. "Thank you for trusting me."

Raia averts her gaze as she feels that familiar warm sensation again.

"By the way, Raia, could you come here for a second?" Raiden asks, breaking the silence, a sheepish smile on his face.

When Raia regards him with a confused expression, he steps closer to her and wraps his arms around her in a comforting embrace. Raia gives a start.

"What are you doing?" she hisses, attempting to push him away, but Raiden pulls her closer to his chest.

"You've always given me warmth," he says, his voice soothing, reminiscent of a calm sea, and Raia can feel the vibration in his chest as he speaks. "So now it's my turn to repay you. Don't worry, it's not out of guilt or anything. I truly want to do this, and I believe you need one."

Raia stiffens, her face pressed against his chest, a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. Raiden is right; no one has ever held Raia and she has never felt the warmth of others. It's not that she doesn't want it; she just doesn't need it. She never even let Simon hug her. But can she still say the same thing at this precise moment?

"I know you have a hard time trusting people." Raiden's voice is almost a whisper. "But I'm still hoping you'll give us a chance. You now live here, which means you're one of us. You are now a part of this big family."

Raia's eyes grow wide, his words echoing in her head like a bell. She may not have admitted it, but aside from freedom, she also longs for something genuine. People at the orphanage always needed her for her gift, but they never cared about her as a person. Humans are selfish and deceitful, that's what she always believes. People thank her for healing them, but it's clear from their expressions that they only care about their healed wounds, not even sparing a glance at the worn-out healer.

Her time in the orphanage taught her how to read people and predict their actions. She can see their true faces beneath their masks and decipher the honeyed words coming from their mouth simply by looking at them.

She despises them. She despises humans, they are no different from demons in her eyes. Had it not been for the desire to survive, Raia wouldn't have had to heal them and let them suffer in their own pain. Because those are their wounds, why should Raia have to suffer from them as well? That's why she despises them. However, after meeting Simon, Raiden, and other members of the Order, she realized that not all humans are the same.

Genuine people still exist in this world. Rare people.

"Family . . ." Raia mumbles into the fabric. She then raises her arms from her sides and envelopes him in a tight hug. "I want."

Raiden blinks, taken aback. He then smiles and lets out a huge sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath the entire time.

"Now, now," he says, gently patting her back. "Does that mean you're finally accepting us?"

Raia's heart flutters wildly inside her chest, and tears almost escape her eyes. Raiden's embrace is too gentle, too warm. She had never felt such warmth, such pleasing contact before. Such genuine concern. From their first meeting until their first mission together, she was constantly on guard, observing him and figuring him out. But then she realized that it was him, not her, who needed to be on guard all the time. During the days she spent with him, she noticed how frail and innocent he is.

She could easily use him if she wanted to, but after getting to know him well, she decides not to take advantage of his kindness. Genuine people are rare, so she will not ruin one. She will not stoop to the level of those she despises.

After a minute, Raia pulls away and looks up at him.

"Welcome to the family, Raia Allen," Raiden says, his hair is of a brilliant blond mingled with the rays of golden sunlight.

Family . . .

Raia has always desired to have a family. She may have denied it for a long time, but she wants to find something to treasure, just as her master said.

Can she truly call this place her home and the people who live here her family?

Raia stares at him for a few seconds, as if searching his face. Then, slowly, her mouth curves in a barely perceptible smile, revealing an expression on her face that no one has ever seen before.

"Thank you," she says quietly.

Raiden's cheeks flush slightly pink, his mouth partially open, astounded to see her smile gently for the first time.

Resting her head on his chest, Raia closes her eyes and tightens her arms around him. Raiden heaves a sigh and returns her embrace.

She relaxes against his chest as he strokes her hair, listening to the beating of his heart. Finally, she decides to trust someone, and she knows she will never be wrong. She acknowledges them. She accepts them as her family. Nonetheless, she keeps in mind that she has a goal to achieve. She will not let her guard down until she has destroyed every existing demon and restored the balance of the world. And anyone who hinders her from achieving them or harms this new treasure she has found will be her enemy, whether they are demons, humans, or even a disciple like her.

She will make this world a better place.

And once that happens, will her life change by then?

Will I be able to see a different world after this war?

***

"I'm fully healed," Raia gasps, staring at herself in the mirror while wearing only her undergarments. Where there was once a deep wound in her stomach, there is now nothing, not even a scar on her skin, as if she had never been injured at all.

She caresses her stomach, looking for blemishes, but there are none.

She is healed.

It's only been four days since she was wounded. Before then, a wound like that would most likely take a week to heal. Worse, she might not survive at all. If another person was stabbed in the same way as she was, they would not even survive that long; they would likely die before treatment arrived. Raia was only fortunate because of her healing ability, which has improved in some ways.

"This gift... is my weapon," Raia says quietly, a hard expression on her face. "And a weapon can be enhanced."

She furrows her brows as she recalls the fatal moment, and a theory forms in her mind.

Maybe my healing ability enhances every time I am put in a critical state?

Raia is aware of how ridiculous that sounds, but that is possible. After all, she's no longer afraid of being hurt, no longer afraid of pain. She has her weapon and her gift. She has herself.

My greatest weapon is myself.

She walks over to her bed, grabs her uniform from the bed, and puts it on. Not long ago, Cyrus summoned her and Raiden through Milan on one of the cathedral balconies. Nathan is a part of the team on their new mission. Sunshine wanted to come with them, but Cyrus refused. She was assigned to a different task with Missy.

A knock comes at Raia's door as she is putting on her boots. She's expecting Raiden or Sonnet, but when she opens the door, she's greeted by Milan.

"Someone is looking for you, Raia," Milan says.

Raia wrinkles her brow. Who could that be? It can't be either Cyrus or Raiden. She can't think of anyone else besides those two. Perhaps Sunshine or even Nathan? But that will be strange. They can both come here without the need for Milan to act as a messenger.

Raia clutches her cloak as she descends the stairwell toward the Assembly Hall. Her steps come to a halt as she approaches the round table, and her eyes widen in surprise. A muscular man sits at the table with Cyrus, Raiden, and Nathan. He has pale blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard, and he's dressed in a long black coat with silver linings - an Apostle uniform.

Raia gasps, looking at Simon in sheer disbelief.

Her master is here?

Upon hearing her voice, Simon looks up and his gaze falls on hers. He blinks. Then his deep blue eyes sparkle as a slow rejuvenating smile spreads across his lips.

"Raia," Simon says, his soothing baritone voice reaching her ears. "I'm back home."