“I do not like this!” Arthuria's voice resonated clearly, surpassing the sound of the protective spells endlessly sung around the alliance's camp, a crucial defense against encroaching darkness. On that dark night, amid tents wrapped in wounds and blood, the heroines gathered in a small strategic space illuminated by the dim yellow light, casting eerie shadows that mirrored their unease. Fitran had just returned from the mirror path, striving to wipe away the stains of blood and dust clinging to his armor.

  Irithya knitted her brows, her gaze sharp as it met Arthuria's. “You always claim that matters of the heart are inconsequential to you. Yet, whenever Fitran converses with anyone who is not you, your face flushes red like that of a child caught in embarrassment,” she remarked, her tone echoing surprise.

  Arthuria retorted with reluctant indifference, “Better to make a face like that than to pretend not to care, while in truth, you steal glances every five minutes!” Her voice rang out, filled with withheld emotion, a sense of being cornered yearning to be expressed amidst the tension that hung thick in the air.

  Rinoa, standing in the corner, spoke with a soft yet firm voice. “Could you cease this debate? This is not the time for quarrels. Every time you argue, healers like myself must strive ten times harder to soothe everyone,” Rinoa suggested with a tone of concern.

  Vaelora, closing the magic mirror in her hand, listened intently. “We cannot dismiss these feelings. If this concerns Fitran, we must speak honestly. The spiral world is exceedingly fragile. Do you wish to depart from this realm with feelings left unresolved?” she asked, hinting at vulnerabilities that others might not acknowledge.

  Arthuria then rose, her battle cloak billowing behind her as she gazed at Fitran with reluctant courage. “Yes, I am a princess. Yes, I am a hero. But beneath all that, I am also an ordinary woman filled with jealousy! Jealousy toward whomever had the chance to see you first in the morning—it's a feeling that consumes me even more darkly than any battlefield.” Her voice carried a depth of emotions, creating a tense atmosphere that vibrated with the unspoken feelings among them.

  Irithya clenched her jaw, her tone laced with concealed anguish. “I have lost everything—my mother, my world, even myself. For the sake of all that I hold dear, I do not wish to lose the one who gives me a reason to endure. Merely because I am too slow!”

  Rinoa drew a deep breath, her voice wavering with emotion. “For so long I have merely been an appendage in the lives of others, as if I were no more than a supporter. But I am a woman too, Fitran. I wish to be the focus, if only for this night, even if just for this one night.”

  Vaelora spoke softly, her eyes shimmering with sorrow, “I arrived late and understand how I am but a shadow, reflecting that which is other. Yet, amidst those shadows, I wish to be the light in your eyes, reckless though it may be, if only for a fleeting moment.”

  Fitran stood silent, his feelings like a tempest he had never faced. Outside, the echoes of battle roared, and the protective spells could not quell the thick silence that enveloped the room.

  Arthuria stepped closer, her gaze sharp and resolute. “Do not remain ensnared in silence, Fitran. Choose, or at the very least, voice something. We have borne this burden for far too long.”

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  Fitran bowed his head, his voice soft yet filled with clarity. “I am no hero when it comes to matters of the heart. Fear gnaws at my soul, gnawing like a restless beast… I dread that my decisions might destroy you all. Yet, even more frightening is the thought of losing you simply because I lacked the courage to act.”

  Irithya pressed on, tears already brimming at the corners of her eyes. “You need not be perfect, Fitran. What we desire is the certainty that all these feelings are genuine and not mere phantoms amidst the clamor of war.”

  Vaelora stepped closer, gently holding Fitran’s hands as if swearing an oath. "If this world is destined to spiral into ruin tomorrow," she said in a firm yet tense voice that pierced through the emotional turmoil, "I wish tonight to be a night of transparency, free from deceit and devoid of fear. I must know one thing—are you capable of loving more than one woman, and can you acknowledge that love?"

  Rinoa wiped away the tears that were poised to spill, her smile bitter yet filled with candor as she responded, "At times, I wish I had never come to know you all. My life might have been simpler. Yet… at the same time, I realize I do not wish to lose you. Not just Fitran, but also Arthuria, Irithya, and Vaelora. You are my haven—my sisters in arms—even if that home is often wrought with fire and war." With a soft tone, she continued, "You mean more to me than I can express, more than the chaos around us.”

  Suddenly, Arthuria embraced Rinoa tightly, her voice trembling. "You are a fool, Rinoa. Never think such thoughts. For I, and we all, desperately need you. We are one united front." Arthuria's eyes gleamed, reflecting a deep yearning to share the burdens among them.

  Irithya stifles both laughter and tears that mix within her heart, "It feels profoundly strange, yet perhaps the difference lies in this—our sole reason for enduring amid this world of chaos." She turns her face away, struggling against the emotions that threaten to choke her.

  Vaelora pulled both of them closer, forming a warm circle between them, the physical contact providing a sense of communal strength. She gazed at Fitran with a serious expression, "This spiral of fate is indeed unjust. Yet, if we share our truths openly, I am willing to divide this love, provided it is heartfelt and genuine." Her voice conveys an unwavering determination, imbued with the hope that love can transcend their dire circumstances.

  Fitran, with a voice nearly whispering, gazed into the eyes of each woman present, encapsulating their fears and hopes. "You are the reason I stand here, unwavering in the face of turmoil. I do not wish to choose between you; I desire to fight alongside each of you. And if this world deems us wretched, let it be I who bears that burden, not you.” There was a heaviness upon his shoulders, yet his resolve fortified every word he spoke, illuminating the path forward.

  As the thunderous spell shook the tent, the sound of the explosion resembled screams that would not cease, reverberating like a reminder of their grim reality. "This war is far from over," Fitran whispered, a solemn reminder that echoed among them. He turned, fixing his gaze upon their faces, each filled with determination. "But here, there shall be no more secrets—just we four women and I. In my heart, I sense that sometimes, to utter 'I need you' is true bravery, a challenge I accept."

  “I… do not wish to fight alone,” one of them spoke, her voice trembling. “Each step feels increasingly burdensome, yet your presence grants me strength.”

  “We understand that feeling,” another chimed in, affirming her gaze. “We are family, not foes. We must bolster one another.”

  Silence briefly enveloped the tent, flowing warmly with an understanding that ran deep. As night crept in, the four heroines sat side by side, hands clasped together. “We are no longer rivals,” one signaled, “to survive, we must unite. Even if this world curses us, we shall face it together.”

  Fitran, standing amidst them, watched the sky filled with bursts of magic that shimmered. “Know this,” he stated, his eyes shining with determination, “I vow to protect you. Even if it means battling the world.” The rhythm of his heart trembled with fervor, and suddenly, everything felt more attainable.