The narrow garden path was quiet, lined with tall bamboo swaying gently in the breeze. The gravel beneath Miles's boots crunched softly as he walked beside Clarissa. They passed a tranquil koi pond, crossed under a wooden archway adorned with red ribbons, and reached an open clearing surrounded by stone lanterns and flowering trees.
Then—Miles stopped.
He tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning the shadows between the bamboo thickets.
"…Seriously?" he said, almost exasperated. "Come on. Don't hide now."
From the foliage, six figures stepped out silently—dressed in lightweight training robes, their movements disciplined and balanced. The moment they appeared, they dropped into traditional martial arts stances—fluid, focused, and ready.
Clarissa chuckled and gracefully stepped to the side, arms folded. "Don't look at me. I told them not to, but they insisted."
Miles sighed deeply. "Of course they did."
