Rangers Endgame

Yakeru rolled his shoulder, eyeing the boulder between thin trees that dotted his periphery—some already cut in two—as warm air lapped across his skin. Dry leaves crunched as he adjusted his stance and let out a steady breath, hand resting on his sword's hilt, his arm able again. Radiance trickled into his legs, a controlled stream that clung to precise muscle groups that were already hot from use. His lower half complained with stored power, but he held it there for just a moment.

Then he tugged.

The world vanished beneath his feet as Phantom Step plucked him from existence with a sharp eruption. Fierce wind cut across his face and popped his ears as his blade flashed outward in the same instant. The boulder, an indiscernible, gray smear in reality, shot up to meet him before he killed his momentum.

The world snapped back into being, Yakeru whipping to a stop with his nose mere inches away from the boulder. He slid his sword back home as several trees behind him collapsed with crackling thuds. The leaf-infused wind raced past him in a sonic boom that echoed through the light forest, scattering a distant flock of birds in a disorganized choir of startled chirps.

The agony caught up to him a moment after, dragging him to the soil in a fit of groans as liquid fire ravaged his bottom half. A trembling hand fumbled in his satchel, spilling items until it found the health elixir Takahiro was generous enough to donate. It popped open, and he gulped down its contents.

Injuries lying just beneath the surface began to cool as torn fibers knitted. He waited for a long while, focusing on his breathing, until his body mellowed out.

“Two times,” he breathed, putting a hand under him and tentatively lifting himself. “New record.”

He dusted off the dirt and looked back at the fallen trees. Some had been dissected cleanly while others were more jagged.

Something else to work on.

He didn’t stress over it, though. It’d be something for later.

He walked back down the trail for about an hour until the dirt under him gave way to deliberately aligned stone. Trees opened up, light pouring onto the clearing as he stepped onto the estate property.

Nandemo staff supervised the villagers as they meandered around the yard in clusters, still fascinated by the animals they’d only ever heard of in stories. Yuto offered borrowed cloaks to some while they stared wide-eyed at the carefully kept gardens as though they’d stepped into a painting. A handful stood near the hedges, watching birds—exotic to them, not to Yakeru—flit between branches with quiet fascination. The dog bounced in a flower field, chasing out critters with a delighted child in tow. It was a strange sort of calm—displacement softened by curiosity.

Yakeru brushed stray leaves from his sleeve as he approached, nodding once to the staff, and the villagers who weren’t too absorbed to notice him. Before he could take more than a few steps onto the property, the rumble of wheels announced a new arrival. Then another. To his right, carriages—several—rolled in one after the other, each bearing the same Nandemo aesthetic.

‘Finally.’

As if he'd sensed it, the mansion’s doors swung open, and out came Takahiro descending the unnecessarily wide stairs, arms grand in greeting. “Alas, our transportation has arrived.”

“Ten days later,” Yakeru reminded.

Takahiro grinned sheepishly. “Yes, well, patience is the price you pay when refugees are to be relocated. Thank you for your help. It was much appreciated. Rest assured, you will be reimbursed as per our agreement.”

Yakeru looked back at the approaching carriages, swirling colors and gaudy designs. “Was it really necessary to go the extra mile?”

Takahiro waved dismissively. “Of course. Those under the Nandemo’s care must not be seen travelling in sub-quality transportation. Honestly, yours truly should be commended for such immeasurable hospitality.”

Yakeru gave a noncommittal hum.

The noble snapped his fingers. “Since you’re here, won’t you fetch the others? We’ll begin moving our guests shortly, and our party should be presentable when we depart.”

Behind him, Yuto and the staff had begun gently gathering the villagers, guiding them toward the newly arrived carriages.

Yakeru nodded once and stepped past him into the mansion.

Inside was louder. The grand halls lost some of their pristine quiet, now filled with low conversation and occasional nervous laughter, and the luxurious furnishings had long since vanished behind the sea of people sitting on benches and leaning on walls. The people had traded their heavy winter attire for light formal wear. Takahiro was annoyingly insistent that they should look immaculate. In reality, it was the only style the nobleman had while the staff washed and repaired their old clothes.

The estate felt like it was breathing differently since last he’d been here—less composed, more alive.

He elbowed through the clusters until he reached a familiar door within the home’s bowels. Inside, the atmosphere shifted again.

Rin stood near the center of the room, posture straight, sleeves neatly rolled as she removed Risa’s bandage with practiced hands.

“Hold still,” she said, her tone making it clear it wasn’t a suggestion.

“As I said before, I’m perfectly capable of tending to myself,” Risa protested from her seat, yet didn’t stop her.

“A second pair of hands never hurt anyone,” Rin countered gracefully.

Nearby, Emi sat on Chief Zeri’s bedside, hands animated as she showed off a small collection of carefully sculpted charms. They caught the light in odd ways, each one a little different. Fuyumi leaned against the wall beside them.

“And this one!” Emi elated, holding up a lunar lilac with pride. “They didn’t have the same materials, so it looks kinda off. But I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?”

Chief Zeri inspected it. “That you did, child.”

Emi showed Fuyumi, who gave a silent nod of approval. The aloof ranger noticed Yakeru in the doorway first with a glance, her expression not changing much.

“You’re back,” she said, the room turning.

Risa leaned back to peer around Rin. “Did you fight something interesting this time, or just more trees?”

“They’re good volunteers,” he answered, looking at the elder. “I trust your recovery has been going well?”

“I'm not as frail as I may appear.”

“That you’re not,” he agreed, jutting a thumb over his shoulder. “Our rides are here. Time to go.”

Rin removed the last bandage, giving a satisfied nod when the blemishing was gone. She stood and approached the elder’s bedside. “Allow me to escort you, madam.”

While she assisted her to her feet, Risa stood with a graceful stretch as if her injuries had never been. Emi gathered her charms while Fuyumi said nothing, but moved toward the door.

A few minutes later, they reemerged into the shifting bustle outside. Villagers were being organized into groups and efficiently guided toward the waiting carriages. Takahiro stood nearby, overseeing it all like a conductor at a performance.

Staff members approached, ready to take Chief Zeri and Emi. The chief looked back at Rin.

“Thank you for everything.”

Rin simply bowed, hands folded in front.

Emi passed out lunar lilacs, more refined than the last ones, and gave two extra ones to Yakeru to give to Yuto and Takahiro. She waved as the staff took them to join a queue.

Pocketing the charm, Rin personally took Risa to a nearby empty carriage. “Will that be all, Ms. Harper?”

“That will be all, Rin.” Risa slipped her charm into her satchel and hugged her.

The servant responded with a gentle reciprocation.

Yakeru and Fuyumi pocketed their own. As he panned for Takahiro, the nobleman was breathing into his hand, checking his breath, before making his way over.

“Ah, there you are.”

“Ready when you are,” Yakeru said, handing over a charm.

He took it and gestured toward the line of carriages. One in particular pulled up to them, larger and polished to an unnecessary sheen. When a servant opened its door, its interior proudly presented plush seating, embroidered cushions, and enough space to lounge.

Yakeru almost facepalmed. “We’re not riding in that, are we?”

Takahiro laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He then turned to Fuyumi, and her face paled. “Yours truly has reserved exclusivity for the most dazzling flower.” He bent at the waist with an extended hand. “It was unfortunate that circumstances forestalled us from truly connecting. We shall correct that now with a shared seat. And perhaps a shared future.”

A pause.

Fuyumi’s expression tightened, her eyes flicking to the carriage, to him, then to Yakeru.

It wasn’t a dramatic look. Just the same quiet plea to pull her from a persistent nuisance after it had worn her down one too many times.

Yakeru met her gaze.

And he slowly gave her a small, unmistakable, deliberate smirk. Then he turned and stepped toward Risa’s carriage, climbing in without another word.

A beat.

He felt her indignant stare burrowing into his back. Then she exhaled once and moved past the nobleman to follow Yakeru instead. She climbed inside, settling next to him—a habit now, he noticed.

“You’re about as useful as a heating artifact in the Fire Glades,” she said without looking at him.

“Then why’d you bring me there?” he quipped back.

“Infuriating, too.”

From the corner of his eye, Yakeru caught Risa huffing in amusement at Fuyumi's miff. Yuto came and sat beside the conjurer, and Yakeru handed him his charm.

Takahiro didn't join them, likely sulking.

Outside, the carriages began to move. Rin, along with the other staff, stood in a uniform line at the estate's steps and gave a departing bow in unison.