Kirito wiped a smear of blood from his chin with the back of his hand and looked out over what was left of the clearing — cracked earth, broken swords scattered like fallen leaves, mist hanging low and thick over all of it.
Whatever goofiness he usually carried was nowhere in sight now, burned off somewhere in the last hour and not likely to return before morning.
“Okay.” His voice carried, rough but steady, over the scattered remains of the group.
“We’re heading back. This place isn’t safe anymore — not tonight, maybe not for a while.”
He raised his remaining sword despite the wounds still leaking down his side, jaw set with the particular stubbornness of a man running on fumes and refusing to admit it.
“Everyone, close in around me. I’m opening a door.”
He drove the blade into the cracked ground, and a magic circle bloomed to life beneath his feet, gold light spiraling outward until it collapsed inward on itself, forming a swirling portal that opened onto something warmer, calmer, unmistakably home — the Kingdom of Rings, waiting on the other side.
“Move,” Kirito said, and the first-years began shuffling toward it, some limping, some leaning on each other, the whole group moving with the particular slowness of people who’d spent every ounce of adrenaline they had and were now running on nothing but momentum.
“Stay together,” Mikey called, positioning himself near the portal’s edge, still doing the job he’d claimed for himself hours ago even now that the worst of it was over.
“Don’t drop your guard until we’re all the way through. Last thing we need is someone getting picked off two feet from safety.”
Gota found Nagi near the back of the group, blood still drying along one side of his face, standing with a stillness that looked more like effort than calm up close.
“Hey.” Gota’s voice softened, some of his usual boisterous energy dialed way down.
“You okay? You pushed way past your limit back there — I saw it. That’s not nothing.”
“I’m fine.” Nagi’s voice came out steady, if a little thinner than usual.
“Just went a bit over. It happens.”
“Yeah, well, ‘a bit over’ looks like you’re about two seconds from falling on your face, so.” Gota didn’t wait for an argument.
He slid Nagi’s arm over his own shoulder and took most of the weight without asking permission first.
“Lean on me. Don’t fight me on this one, man. We’re a team — that’s not just something people say.”
“I can walk.”
“Never said you couldn’t. Doesn’t mean you have to.” Gota adjusted his grip, steadying him without making a production of it.
“Humor me. If you collapse halfway through that portal I’m the one explaining it to Kirito, and I’d really rather not.”
That got something close to a huff out of Nagi — not quite a laugh, but adjacent to one.
“See? Was that so hard?”
“You’re annoyingly persistent.”
“I prefer ‘reliable,’ but sure, we can go with annoying too.” Gota grinned despite the exhaustion clearly weighing on him too, blood and dirt streaked across his own forearms from the fight.
“Besides, watching you and Yuji sync up back there was kind of the highlight of my night. Figured the least I could do was carry you the last hundred feet.”
“Don’t remind him you said that. He’ll deny the whole thing happened.”
“Oh, I know. That’s exactly why I’m bringing it up at breakfast tomorrow.”
Nicolle fell into step beside them, worry still written plainly across her face despite the softness in her voice.
“You were both really brave back there,” she said, glancing between Nagi and, further ahead, Yuji’s stiff, retreating back.
“Fighting together like that — thank you. I don’t think I’ll forget watching that.”
“It wasn’t really bravery,” Nagi said.
“More like not having a better option.”
“That’s what bravery usually looks like from the inside, I think.” Nicolle offered a tired smile.
“Nobody feels brave in the moment. They just do the thing because the alternative’s worse.”
“Huh.” Nagi considered that for a second.
“That’s oddly wise for someone who spent half the fight throwing ice at things.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Wasn’t sure it was one when I said it,” Nagi admitted, and Nicolle actually laughed — quiet, but real, the first genuine sound of relief anyone in the group had managed since the fighting stopped.
“Yeah.” Kakame moved in on Nagi’s other side, offering a shoulder of his own even though Gota clearly had it handled, just so there’d be two points of support instead of one.
“Seriously, though. Don’t push yourself any more tonight. You’ve done enough for one battle. Actually, you’ve done enough for like three battles. Ration it out next time.”
“Noted.”
“I mean it. I’m not carrying you a second time this year.”
A few paces ahead, Yuji glanced back once — just once, quick and almost embarrassed about it — before facing forward again without a word.
He didn’t say anything.
The look had already said more than his usual pride would ever let his mouth manage.
“Was that a look of concern?” Kakame murmured, just quiet enough for Nagi to hear.
“From Yuji? Truly a historic night. Someone should write this down.”
“Don’t push it,” Nagi said, but there was something almost amused underneath the exhaustion in his voice.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m just saying, if we ever need a witness to confirm Yuji Kunagumi has a heart, we’ve got one.”
Near the portal, Kirito held the door open with both hands now, sweat mixing with the blood still tracking down his jaw, forcing something close to a genuine smile through sheer willpower alone.
“Come on, come on.” He waved the stragglers forward with more energy than his battered body had any business producing.
“I’m not keeping this open forever — magic doors aren’t cheap, and neither is my patience tonight. Let’s get you all somewhere with actual walls and actual beds.”
“You good, Sword Master?” Sani called, pausing halfway through his own limp toward the door.
“You’re bleeding on, like, four different spots.”
“I’m counting on the healers to fix that once we’re through,” Kirito said, waving him on.
“Go. I’ve survived worse than four holes.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring.”
“Wasn’t trying to be reassuring. Was trying to get you to walk faster.”
Sani snorted and kept moving, and Kirito’s forced smile eased, just slightly, into something a little more real for a second before the weight of the night settled back over his face.
One by one, the first-years stepped through the shimmering light — some quickly, eager to be anywhere else, others slower, glancing back at the ruined clearing like they needed to see it one more time before it stopped being real.
Gota guided Nagi through carefully, Kakame close behind, Nicolle just after them, checking over her shoulder the whole way to make sure no one had been left behind.
Kirito stood alone at the portal’s edge once the last student had crossed through, looking back at the dark, mist-heavy jungle one final time — at the cracked earth, the scattered swords, the space in the sky where a half-demon had disappeared laughing.
“Until next time,” he murmured, echoing words that weren’t originally his, tasting how much heavier they sounded coming from him instead.
He thought, briefly, about all the reports he’d have to file once they were through — the King, the academy board, the parents who’d want answers about why their children had come home covered in blood after what was supposed to be a controlled survival exercise.
None of that felt as urgent, right now, as the simple fact that everyone had actually made it out.
He stepped through, and the golden light collapsed behind him, the portal folding shut and taking the whole ruined clearing with it — the wreckage, the blood, the echo of laughter still hanging faintly in the mist, all of it sealed away behind a door that had already stopped existing by the time it fully closed.
*End of Chapter 25*