Spirit Game

In here, Hana could see her parents, strong and kind, tending to their home with love and care. Her mother, with her warm smile and gentle hands, was weaving a basket from reeds, humming a familiar lullaby that always made Hana feel safe.

Her father, tall and sturdy, was busy repairing their wooden home, his laughter echoing through the trees as he joked with Hana\'s brothers and sister.

Hana\'s siblings were playing nearby, their laughter mingling with the sounds of the swamp. Her older brother was teaching her younger brother how to catch fish with their bare hands, while her sister was braiding wildflowers into Hana\'s hair.

The swamp was their playground, a magical world where they were free to explore and dream. They would chase dragonflies, splash in the shallow waters, and build secret forts out of branches and leaves.

Everything felt perfect and timeless, a precious memory of a simpler, happier time. Hana wanted to stay in this moment forever, surrounded by her family\'s love and the beauty of the swamp.

She felt the cool, muddy water between her toes, the gentle breeze rustling through the reeds, and the warmth of her family\'s presence.

But as much as she wanted to hold onto this dream, a distant voice began to intrude, pulling her back to something unknown.

It was faint at first, just a whisper on the wind, but it grew steadily louder.

"Hana . . . Hana . . ." the voice called, filled with urgency and a hint of desperation.

"Who\'s that voice?" Hana wondered, trying to ignore it and remain in her dream.

She clung to the image of her family, their faces smiling and content, but the voice persisted, breaking through the idyllic scene.

It was a voice she knew, a voice that stirred something deep within her, but in her delirious state, she couldn\'t place it. No matter how hard she tried to remember, her consciousness kept fading, and the familiar voice slipped further away.

"Hana, please . . . wake up . . ." The plea was becoming clearer, cutting through the fog of her mind.

It was a voice filled with concern, a voice that was trying to reach her, to bring her back.

"M-My Lord . . . ?" she muttered.

Hana\'s heart ached as she felt the dream begin to dissolve. The swampy paradise and her family started to blur and fade, replaced by a haze of fever and pain.

She struggled to hold on, to remember the voice that was calling her, but it was like trying to grasp water with her hands — it kept slipping away.

The more she tried to focus, the more the dream crumbled, leaving her with only a lingering sense of warmth and love from her family.

The voice continued to call her name, growing louder and more insistent, pulling her away from the dream and back to the harsh reality of her illness.

"Druger and the others need you . . . everyone needs you . . .

I need you!"

In her delirium, Hana could only manage a faint, whispered response. "M-my . . . lord . .

." But the voice was relentless, refusing to let her go.

As her consciousness ebbed and flowed, Hana was left with the haunting memory of her family\'s happiness. The voice was a plea that she couldn\'t ignore, a connection that she desperately needed to remember.

And even though she couldn\'t fully understand or respond, the voice gave her a glimmer of hope, a reason to keep fighting through the fever and delirium, to find her way back to those who loved her in the waking world.

"Hana!"

Hana gasped as she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Rain looking down at her.

"M-my Lord . . ."

"Thank the gods . . . I thought you wouldn\'t make it . . ." Rain\'s voice was choked with emotion, tears glistening in his eyes.

At that moment, Hana felt that it wasn\'t so bad to be alive. "M-my Lord . . . someone like me . .

. you shouldn\'t shed a tear."

Rain gently tapped Hana\'s forehead. "What do you mean, \'someone like you\'? You\'re my friend and a precious member of our village. You\'re important to us."

Hana closed her eyes and smiled weakly before her expression turned serious. "I\'m still . . . weak from the fever. However .

. ."

From her heart a flower sprouted. Hana shakily picked it up. "I did it . . . this is the cure that my body has produced.

Make it into a potion and . . . one drop . . .

is all . . ."

Rain wiped away his tears and clasped Hana\'s hands. "Thank you, Hana . . . Thank you." He could hardly find the words. She had saved them all, just in the nick of time.

Hana closed her eyes and smiled softly. "No . . . it is I who should . .

. thank you . . ." Exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted back into unconsciousness.

She had truly believed she would die. She had pulled through because of Rain\'s voice. If he hadn\'t been there by her side, she was sure she would have succumbed to death. The other side was already calling for her, showing her the sweet embrace of rest together with her family.

She almost didn\'t make it. Part of her wanted to die, to be with them again. However, she couldn\'t forsake Rain, Druger, Lyncon, and everyone. She still had a mission to complete in the Spirit Realm, and it would be unfair to leave everyone behind.

Thank you, Rain . . . my Lord . . .

it\'s up to you now.

In Rain\'s hand was the [Amaranthine Blossom]. It was revered not just for its beauty, but for its unparalleled medicinal properties. The flower contained a unique blend of phytochemicals and bioactive compounds that could neutralize the toxins of the disease and stimulate the body\'s natural healing processes.

With this, Rain hoped to cure the others as soon as possible.

Hana was quickly moved with the others as the evacuation process neared completion. Rain then instructed Pup to deliver the flower to the warship where the elders and medics were already stationed. He was the fastest, so the task fell into him.

As soon as the last of the villagers were safely out of the village, Rain, Thraigar, Chin, Chill, and Chick stood ready outside, waiting for the Hobgoblin army.

They had to stall for time while the others made their way to the east.

Rain looked up at the twin moons. That night, they were a deep, ominous red, like a bloodstained omen approaching. The stage was set for the final stand, and they had successfully stall for time until everyone was evacuated.

It was time to face the Hobgoblin army.