On the narrow ridge between two mist-veiled peaks, Kairoz stood alone, stretching under the cool breath of dawn.
Two swords were embedded upside down in the earth before him—silent, cold, and ready.
He inhaled deeply, then gripped both hilts.
SHING!
A clean metallic sound echoed as he drew the blades in one smooth motion—a signal to no one, and yet to everything.
With his eyes closed, he stood still.
Listening.
Sensing.
Suddenly—his eyes opened.
He sprinted into the jungle, silent and swift, weaving through trees like a shadow in motion.
Then—
He stopped.
Without hesitation, he spun around sharply—and slashed both blades in a powerful arc behind him.
CRACK!
A massive tree split cleanly across the trunk, groaning as it began to fall backward.
As the tree toppled, a dark figure launched upward from its branches—just before the trunk slammed into the ground.
Derius.
Landing lightly with a smirk, he called out mid-leap,
"Oops. You found me,"
Then—without warning—
With startling speed, he hurled the spear forward, the weapon whistling through the air with precise force—aimed straight at Kairoz.
Kairoz crossed his swords just in time—**CLANG!**—blocking Derius's lunging spear strike.
But Derius didn't stop.
His long spear spun like a staff, swirling around his body with incredible speed and precision.
**Whoosh—whip—whirl!**
Each strike flowed into the next, and even Kairoz struggled to keep up. Every time he blocked one side, **the opposite end was already coming at him.**
"Hahaha! Struggling to keep up?" Derius grinned, his footwork light, his spear dancing like wind.
"Tch… so annoying," Kairoz muttered, parrying another strike with effort.
He took a sharp step back, eyes narrowed, calculating.
*I thought getting close would give me an edge—but at this range, he never gives me an opening...*
"Hey! Stop running!" Derius shouted as Kairoz moved back again.
Suddenly, Kairoz lunged forward—blocking an overhead sweep with his left sword and **immediately thrusting** with the right.
A surprise counter.
Derius twisted back, barely dodging the stab.
"Hey! Are you trying to kill me, bastard?!" he barked, stumbling.
"There's no other option," Kairoz said flatly, expression unreadable.
Then—Kairoz turned and slashed at a nearby tree's trunk.
CRACK!
The massive tree began to fall—right toward Derius.
"Hey! What the hell?!" Derius yelped, leaping away just as the tree slammed into the ground with a thunderous boom.
But before he could catch his breath—
Another tree was already coming down.
"What—?!" Derius spun, diving away again. The second trunk hit the forest floor just inches from where he'd stood.
"Crap!"
And then—Kairoz was already in the air.
He leapt from the fallen tree, blades pointed downward like the fangs of a beast.
"You've lost," Kairoz said as he descended.
But just before impact—
Derius raised his right hand palm.
A strange, swirling energy began forming in front of him, crackling with wind and light.
Kairoz's eyes widened. "What…?"
"**Tempest Strike!**" Derius shouted with a grin.
BOOOOM!!
A violent shockwave of compressed wind and force exploded outward.
Kairoz was hurled backwards, crashing into a thick tree with brutal force—
CRACK!
The tree behind him split slightly from the impact.
Even the trees Kairoz had used to attack Derius were blasted back, rolling across the forest floor like broken towers.
Dust swirled.
Leaves rained from the sky.
Kairoz knelt in the dirt, one knee down, blades still in hand, breathing heavy.
Derius stood tall across the clearing, spear resting on his shoulder, smiling confidently!
"Hey… when did you learn that?" Kairoz muttered, brushing dust off his shoulder as he slowly rose to his feet, still slightly breathless.
Derius grinned, his amber eyes glinting mischievously.
"I was just experimenting," he said with a shrug. "Picked it up from some old scrolls… and a little of what I've seen with my own eyes."
He looked down at his smoky, wind-charged palm, the swirling energy still faintly crackling in his hand.
"Guess what? It worked."
He flashed a triumphant smile.
Kairoz scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"For crying out loud… I didn't think you'd go that far just to beat me."
He stood fully now, both swords lowered but still firm in his grip, his cloak rustling in the breeze.
"Tempest Strike," Derius chuckled, twirling his spear once as the wind faded. "Basic, easy to pull off—yet still one of the most effective techniques. Hah!"
But Kairoz didn't laugh.
Instead, he rose to his full height, eyes calm but intense.
"Don't think you're the only one here who knows how to use Kendra Energy."
A dark aura began to pulse faintly around him—flickers of shadowy energy crackling off his body like controlled lightning.
Derius narrowed his eyes, gripping his spear tighter.
"Hey... what's that?" he asked warily, his tone less cocky now.
But Kairoz simply stood still for a moment—then relaxed.
He exhaled and said calmly, "Let's call it a draw."
And he turned his back.
"Huh? What?! Hey—bastard! Where are you going?! Finish the damn fight!"Derius shouted, stepping forward.
Without turning, Kairoz replied,
"I don't want to waste a half-baked technique on you. It'd ruin the dish."
He glanced back with a faint, unreadable smirk.
"Once it's fully cooked… I'll feed it to you myself, my friend. And it's not any 'basic-level' trick."
Derius blinked, then smiled—but behind that smile was a twitch of frustration.
He muttered under his breath:
"Can't wait for that."
But in his mind, the thought burned:
This freak… already learning high-level techniques on his own.
Just how far are you planning to go, Kairoz...?
Scene: Meanwhile, at the Training Grounds…
Samaira stood near the weapon racks, her gaze fixed on a large, curved glaive—its silver blade gleaming faintly in the sun. She held it up, testing the weight.
It was heavy, elegant, and deadly—just the kind of weapon that suited her.
Behind her, a voice called out.
"Hey, Samaira! I'm heading up the mountain for a bit—need some air,"said Touka, walking past with a hand raised casually.
Samaira turned, slightly surprised.
"What? I thought you were going to train with me today."
Touka gave a sheepish shrug.
"Honestly? I don't feel too great. And we've got that punishment duty this evening... I need to save a bit of energy."
She nodded toward a group at the far end of the yard.
"Why don't you train with them for now?"
Samaira followed her gaze—
Duke and Drex were in the middle of a strength test, palms locked, muscles straining as they tried to push each other back.
The ground beneath them was already torn from their earlier clashes.
Samaira raised an eyebrow.
"I was thinking about that, actually."
"Good. I'll catch up later," Touka said, already walking away toward the base of the mountain trail.
Samaira smiled faintly, then turned her attention back to the glaive.
She spun it once, the blade slicing clean through the air with a smooth whirl.
As Touka walked up the winding mountain trail, the sounds of the training yard slowly faded behind her.
Only the crunch of her boots on gravel and the whispering wind through the pines remained.
Finally… some time alone.
Away from the noise.
Away from them.
She reached a high cliff ledge and stopped, taking in the view.
Below her, the fortress sprawled like a stone beast, nestled between sheer ridges. Its high towers pierced the sky, standing tall against the backdrop of the distant city on the far side.
Mountains loomed behind it—steep, ancient, and silent.
Touka stepped closer to the edge, then slowly laid down on the flat rock, staring up at the pale-blue sky scattered with clouds.
Her arms rested behind her head, her expression unreadable.
"I have to find a way to the king… somehow. And the sword."
Her thoughts echoed in the quiet.
That sword... the one they spoke of in whispers. The one locked away beyond reach.
She closed her eyes for a moment.
"I'll start searching the fortress at night. Quietly. Room by room."
A soft wind passed over her, tugging gently at her hair.
"No one can know."
For now, she let the silence hold her.
But behind those calm eyes, the mission was already in motion.
Touka lay on the cool stone surface, eyes half-closed, letting the breeze wash over her.
Above, a huge hawk soared gracefully across the open sky—its wings slicing through the clouds like blades.
She watched it idly... until something unexpected happened.
With a sharp cry, the hawk dove slightly, then released something from its talons.
A small stone, wrapped in a strip of cloth or paper, came spiraling down through the air—straight toward her.
Clack!
It bounced once before she caught it in her palm.
"Now what…" Touka muttered, frowning. She turned the object in her hand and saw a folded letter bound tightly with string.
With a sigh of irritation, she tossed the stone aside.
But just as she began to untie the letter—
Rustle.
A faint noise.
The bushes behind her moved.
Her instincts flared.
In a single motion, she slipped the letter into her pocket and sprang to her feet, drawing her sword with a clean, practiced sound.
Her voice was cold and sharp.
"Who's there?"
The wind paused for a second.
The leaves stopped rustling.
Touka stood tense, sword in hand, eyes scanning the green underbrush.
Something—or someone—was nearby.