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Kuon Kamiya's name echoed across Wagrand half a year ago.
During the Barse Fortress siege between Gandia and Logna, the boy appeared. Unarmed, unarmored, he turned the tide for the faltering Logna army. Wielding a summoned white shield, he left Gandia's forces helpless, leading to the fortress's fall and Logna's seizure of Gandia's northern defenses and lands, per Faria's account.
"Kuon Kamiya, an unknown boy, was Logna's key to victory. News of Barse's fall, long unattainable, spread quickly by Logna's people, thrilled by the feat. His name became continent-wide," Faria explained.
Setsuna, staring at the leaden clouds blanketing Mardal, listened in a daze. No rain had fallen in hours, but the sky loomed heavy.
It all happened six months ago coinciding with Moriya Kuon's disappearance from Setsuna's world. Same name, same time. It couldn't be ignored.
(Is it really Kuon…?)
Setsuna groaned inwardly. No proof he hadn't seen him. It could be another Kuon Kamiya. Yet his gut screamed this was Moriya Kuon.
Instinct wasn't reliable, but in moments like this, it felt true. If correct, Setsuna cursed fate, glimpsing a future that bowed his head in despair.
"Logna didn't expect their plan to backfire," Faria said.
Feeling her gaze, Setsuna looked up. The barren park stretched before them, its trees and vibrant flowerbeds the only signs of life.
Sitting on a bench, Setsuna listened. Faria had dragged him here from the archive, not his choice.
Seeing him glance her way, she continued, satisfied he was listening. "Kuon was offered a position in Logna but refused and left. No matter the generous terms, he wasn't interested."
Setsuna shook his head, dispelling Kuon's striking profile. That fit him unswayed by short-term gains, ignoring treasures if they didn't serve his purpose. His gaze fixed solely on his path.
"Free, Kuon joined various battles, reaping victories. Now he leads the mercenary group White Shield," Faria said.
Setsuna's eyes snapped to her, undistracted by her face. Her words gripped him. "White Shield…"
Mulling the name, he nodded. It suited Kuon pure, untainted white. But its dazzling brilliance unsettled Setsuna's heart, an overwhelming radiance he couldn't escape.
Before that light, Setsuna felt like dust. No reason, just the crushing defeat he'd felt since meeting Kuon.
"I'm Moriya Kuon. You are…?"
Those first words haunted Setsuna, Kuon's vivid eyes searing his mind, sparking pain he couldn't shake. Compared to that, Lankain's flames were nothing.
Biting his lip, Setsuna tried banishing Kuon's carefree smile, but the memory clung. Then a man's voice broke through.
"What's this? Soldiers yapping about a Kamiya, and it's not him?"
The gruff, almost rude interruption didn't intend to lift Setsuna's sinking spirit, but he was grateful nonetheless.
"Zalwarn won't move can't, rather," Leongand Rei-Gandia whispered.
In the spacious room, alone with Rinonkurea Reve-Lusion, he saw no need for loud words. Energy waste wasn't his style.
"Why?"
Rinon's cold, gleaming eyes didn't escape him. Her sharp gaze, ready to pounce on any flaw, chilled even her brother, though he pitied her.
(My failure as a brother burdens you.)
If he voiced that, she'd storm back to Lusion with her troops or draw her blade, fearless of death.
"Simple. Zalwarn's long suffered a grave illness."
"Illness?"
"Yes. The Five Dragon Clans you know them?"
"Of course. The dragon-kin descendants ruling Zalwarn: Rybarn, Ribaien, Viridia, Farbneia, Byunel. Power struggles?"
Her exasperated look drew a vague smile from Leongand. Having been thrust into succession disputes after their father's death, she loathed such ugly fights.
"Exactly. Power struggles are common, but Zalwarn's different. Dragon Clan members, even the lowest, are drilled in armed summoning from childhood. Their personalities? Predictable."
"You're one to judge character?"
"I won't deny it. When summoners over-prioritize their craft, blood flows. Summoner battles are flashy, brutal."
Countless cases showed summoner quarrels escalating into destructive spell-fights, prompting many nations to ban private summoner duels. Some even outlawed armed summoning entirely doomed to fade. But over-reliance on summoners was risky too. Humans clung to convenient tools.
(Don't depend too much on anything.)
Leongand internalized the warning, continuing, "They managed until now. Thirty years ago, horrified by bloodshed, the clan heads negotiated. They'd rotate Zalwarn's governorship."
"So their leadership swaps often?"
"Yes. That messy system worked until recently. Hidden clashes happened, but the gears meshed outwardly."
Or didn't. Still, the rotation strengthened Zalwarn, freeing summoners for external battles, sparking its rise as a small nation.
"Thirty years enough for gears to slip. It started six months ago with Barse's fall. For Zalwarn, it might be the end."
Rinon's puzzled look, as if seeing something bizarre, didn't anger Leongand. He understood her confusion.
"Why do you sound like you know everything?" she asked, resolute.
Leongand winked. "Because I'm a fool."