"Wait! Are we really considering this?" Aunt Rosett gripped Oscar's wrist and pulled him away from Elder Saul and Remulus. She scowled at the two old King Exalts as she placed Oscar behind her. He wondered how she was unafraid of facing two King Exalts and worried for her wellbeing. It had been a long time since someone showed this much care for him, and Oscar didn't fight against her protection with a warm expression, letting her mouth off at the two King Exalts until her face became red.

"Are you done?" Elder Saul spoke in his standard monotone voice, only seemingly lively whenever he conversed with Oscar and Remulus. He held a plate and dropped some cookies into his mouth. Chewing, he said, "The plan can only work if the boy is willing."

"Rosett. We are talking about freeing Draven and the others in Rurin Gaols." Remulus Grant said.

"You think I don't want that?" Rosett stomped her foot. Oscar wanted to back away from the bloodcurdling aura rising from her, which replaced the comforting warmth, but her grip was too strong. She pointed at the Pavilion Master as if wanting to stab him and said, "You and I should know better than to place Oscar in further danger. It would be a disservice to Draven to drag his disciple down with him."

"Then let's ask the boy. What do you think, Oscar?" Elder Saul asked.

Oscar stared at the worried face of Aunt Rosett, currently shaking her head, telling him to say no. He didn't have to be a part of this plan. No one was forcing him, but Elder Saul's words were true that the only person suitable was him. Pondering, Oscar was torn between two faces in his mind, Avril and his master, the indigo-haired golden-eyed muse he called his wife, and the helmet-covered man he regarded as his master. If he decided to rescue his master, he might be imprisoned or killed and never see Avril again, and if Oscar chose to keep it safe until he could see her again, his master might rot in prison or worse.

"I will go." Oscar declared. He had made his choice.

"Oscar!" Aunt Rosett shouted.

"It's fine, Aunt Rosett. My wife would nag me to no end if she found out I didn't try to help." Oscar smirked and clenched his fist. "My master would ask why I'm hesitating and scold me to go for it all. If I chose one or the other, I'd let the other down. That's why I'll succeed, no matter what." Aunt Rosett let go of Oscar's wrist, looking lost, then she smiled slightly and shook her head.

"Spoken like Draven's disciple! Then we are all agreed." Remulus clapped his hands. "Let's save that maniac from his prison."

"Their resemblance is uncanny…you two idiots." Aunt Rosett murmured, staring away and biting her lips with reddened eyes. Then she perked up and asked, "You're married?"

Elder Saul rose from his seat and said, "Oscar will fulfill his role, but we need others to help out from within."

"I'll go with him." Fred finally spoke after his long silence. Oscar didn't expect Fred to volunteer and was aghast, glancing at his friend, who simply smiled and said, "It's time to repay that debt, and besides, you need a slick talker like me inside the prison. How else will you gather good information?"

"We need one other, someone who can lead the uprising in the prison while Oscar completes his task." Elder Saul paced toward the doors. "Someone you can trust wholeheartedly. A strong bond between the infiltrators will keep each other accountable."

"Out of everyone we know, who is the closest that fits those qualities?" Oscar asked Fred.

Fred groaned and lost the show of vigor he had earlier, deflating into his chair. "Damn…."

…….

A day later, Oscar was flying above a mountainous region, fighting against the fierce winds that would tear birds into shreds. Bracing himself, he rushed through large hail, sharpened by the winds to become sharp icicles, and punched through thundering dark clouds. His breaths burned as lightning crackled out of his mouth, but Oscar soldiered on, spurred by the deep longing within his heart.

"She's going to kill me," Fred grumbled by his side. "I'm going to die today."

"She's not. Cripple you? Maybe? But she won't kill you." Oscar squinted his eyes, trying to peer through the stormy clouds, and focused on the faint shadow figures, only revealed by the flashes of lightning. He roused his Ein, and Erden leaped off his shoulder to return to his original Prielapos form. The source of the storm became clear as he neared the clump of shadowy figures, a chaotic battle between uniforms of blue and black. Their clashing Eins had a destructive effect on nature and scorched the sky.

Larger shadows hovered above, rhythmic booms resounding in short intervals one after the other as bright light spread across the shadows' edges, separated by a short distance. It sounded like thunder was accompanied by a series of lights, but it wasn't lightning. Oscar knew all too well that it was cannon fire, an immense amount of cannon fire, meaning the large shadows were airships of colossal size. He had run into the center of a warzone, two fleets in a fierce struggle.

Oscar wielded his elemental armament and charged straight into the battle, followed by Erden and Fred. Erden, in his Meld form, expanded his sapphire antler wings. Like the thick branches of the great oak, they reached far and wide, branching out into several groups. Flames sprouted like leaves, and Erden let out a piercing roar, spreading the fires, concentrated and numerous, landing accurately on all the enemies within his reach. Then, the deer stampeded forward, his antlers sharpening into blades and piercing several enemies. After the element of metal had done its job, Erden released a raging inferno and reduced his foes to ash upon the clouds.

"You bastards! Who are you?!" Someone in jet-black armor swung his axe toward Oscar.

He dodged and grabbed the man's leg. Breathing in, Oscar swung the man like a whip and lashed him against his allies, who hesitated to attack their own. The bones in the man's body cracked until every bone was broken, having endured Oscar's Reis. He threw the man's mangled body like a ball and had it explode with a charge of Shattering Wave, the initial burst of blood, organs, and limbs accompanied by the same occurrence in other Exalts caught in the blast radius.

Cracking his neck, Oscar readjusted the buttons on his vest and patted down his wet pants. He glared at the fearful faces of the enemy and said, "Apparently, I am called a hero, but not to you." He flashed with the sound of thunder, his invisible Reis movements drawing him close to their group. One fell under a swift kick to the head, dismembering it instantly. The second body was riddled with holes from his Golden Breaker and flung aside. The third was eviscerated, his ribs protruding from his chest as Oscar punched him from the back with a Shattering Wave.

He whisked Fred away with him to several other battles, killing as many of the enemy as possible. Despite his best efforts, he could not influence every battle, and many Exalts on his side died, lost to the storms. He gritted his teeth and fought on. He wiped the slick blood from his shield and bashed its clean surface onto an Exalt, dirtying it again. His figure raged through the storms. Before long, deep horns bellowed over the thunder and cannon fire, halting the Exalts in their place. It was the sounds of retreat.

Everyone and the airships fell back, many bringing up the rear, watching the other side with wary eyes. Oscar followed the others to their headquarters, a city carved into the rock of the largest mountain, reaching tens of thousands of miles high, the Mountain City of Morkan. A stone path spiraled around from the large gate at the mountain's base to the stone palace on its peak. Stone buildings, towers, and forts bordered the edges of the grand road on both sides. The ones facing outside the mountains stuck together like a great spiraling wall, and the ones on the inner side had open passages and gates leading inside the mountain.

Oscar neared the gates and held the token of the Pavilion Master, the guards' reaction changing to shock and awe. They immediately opened the gates to let him through, and he rode on Erden up the tall mountain. Arriving at the palace, he showed the token again and was granted passage into the guest room. Enjoying some refreshments with Fred and Erden, Oscar waited for someone to enter the room.

The door opened, and a beautiful woman walked inside. Her purple hair reached down to her waist, and her gray eyes locked onto Oscar, filled with disbelief. Her face was as sharp and fierce as he remembered, a stern look that exuded authority and power. She was the highest authority in the Pavilion's army, the Grand Commander Margaret Ward. She held her cape to the side and sat down on her chair. "How are you alive?"

"Everyone keeps asking me that. Aunt Rosett can tell you the details later. For now, we need to see someone under your command." Oscar leaned in. "We're going to save my master."

"Draven?" Margaret yelped, her expression breaking for the first time. It didn't come as a surprise. Oscar knew that she and Aunt Rosett both had feelings for his master. "Are you serious?"

"As serious as we'll ever be. I can save my master, and I need your help. Bring Emily Nevena here." Oscar confidently said as Fred winced beside him.

Margaret left the room, and Fred broke out into a sweat. Oscar patted his friend on the shoulder to reassure him, but he hadn't a clue how Emily would react to both of them. He hoped his presence could lessen her anger toward Fred, but knowing her…it was a slim chance.

The doors swung wide open, and this time, Emily stepped inside. She was older than Oscar remembered. She no longer had the youthful wildness that made her into a fierce warrioress in her younger days; her expression was more subdued and controlled, like a well-trained soldier. Her orange hair was cut short to the shoulders, and her orange eyes didn't lack at all in their luster. She staggered and stumbled on her feet, palming her forehead as her eyes shook around their sockets.

"Emily!" Fred went over and reached his hand to support her.

A fist drove itself into Fred's face, and he fell back, hitting the wall. It appeared her anger still overwhelmed her.

"You bastard!" Emily rushed over to Fred, raising her fist for another strike.