"What is this grand plan of yours anyway?" Sunny asked as we made our way to the underground meeting hall.
"You'll know in a minute. You're going to love it," I smirked.
"I doubt that. You only ever have crazy ideas," he replied instantly.
We reached the room, and Jet knocked on the door. Soon, Master Roan opened it and led us inside. The only people present were Saint Tyris, Roan, and us.
"Master Jet said you have an idea. Let's hear it," Tyris said bluntly.
"Before that, do you know what this Winter Beast looks like? How big is it?" I asked.
"It has a humanoid body, but it's mangled and twisted beyond recognition. It's not that big," she answered.
"That's a relief," I muttered. "Now, for my plan to work, I need a way to get close to its physical body—and a way to get back afterward."
"You lunatic… You want to fight it?" Sunny was stunned, and so were the others.
"That's unrealistic," Roan said, shaking his head. "Even Tyris can only hold it back because her abilities counter its own."
The room fell silent.
"The only unrealistic thing here is relying on Saint Tyris to hold it back long enough. Guess what—she can't," I said, slightly agitated.
"What?" Everyone responded at once.
"Look at her," I said, lifting my blindfold slightly to get a better look. "She's beaten up. But that isn't even the real problem. She probably hasn't said anything, but she's getting weaker."
"Tyris?" Roan asked hesitantly.
"What's so surprising? This beast is too strong even for me," she admitted flatly. "So what can you do about it?"
"If you can get me close to it and have a way to bring me back, I can probably fight it for a while. Not more than a few hours. But during that time, you can recover as much as possible. Even a single day of rest will drastically increase our chances of surviving for three weeks."
"You lunatic—you want to fight something even a Saint can barely hold back?" Sunny lashed out.
"It's not feasible. You can't withstand its attacks," Dale added.
"She's already lost more than a third of her strength," I stated. "She'll lose in at most eighteen days—and when she does, we'll just have to hope she doesn't die. You all know what happens then."
"How sure are you that you can fight it?" Sky Tide asked evenly.
"I'm sure I can hold it back," I said confidently.
"You can't possibly be agreeing to this plan. It's suicide," Sunny protested.
"He's right," Tyris admitted. "I probably can't hold it back for three weeks. But if he can truly buy me a single day, I can recover enough to keep fighting."
"I can get you close to its physical body," she continued. "And we have a Memory that can teleport you back, but it has a fixed timer—seven hours. That means you'll have to fight it for seven hours straight. Can you do it?"
"Seven hours..." I muttered.
"I must do it. No—I will do it."
"Then rest for the night," Tyris said, turning around. "Tomorrow, I'll take you there."
With that, she announced the meeting was over.
Roan led us out, bidding us farewell. On our way back, Sunny spoke first.
"You are truly a lunatic. How did you even come up with the idea of fighting that thing?"
"Something has to be done," I replied. "And besides me, probably no one else can fight it. Even I won't be able to damage it—the only thing I can do is keep it occupied for a while."
"You'll die," Jet said flatly.
"You're wrong there. I won't die—I can't die," I smirked. "Also, do me two favors."
"What are they?" Winter asked, intrigued.
"First, no matter what happens, don't let Tyris fight. If she doesn't rest, my struggle will be meaningless."
"We'll do our best," Dale said reassuringly.
"Secondly," I continued, "when I'm about to be teleported back, place it in the middle of Falcon Scott—and make sure as many people as possible are looking at me."
"We can do that, but… why?" Jet asked, narrowing her eyes.
"To give them something like a motivational speech," I said with a smirk before walking away. "I need to sleep if I want to be in top shape tomorrow."
As I left, I heard Winter speak behind me.
"Sunny, do you have any idea why he thinks he can fight it? And what does he mean by 'he can't die'?"
"I don't know," Sunny admitted. "He seems to know everything about those around him, but we don't know much about him."