Sillys threw the spear. It cut through the darkness and the air, whistling straight at my chest.
I caught it purely on reflex, feeling the icy tip graze my skin. It probably cut me a little, but the situation didn't let me feel the pain.
Sillys's icy aura expanded through the arsenal, her gaze sharp and unforgiving.
"Why are you here?" her voice was a cutting whisper in the darkness. "Why are you agreeing to risk your neck for my army so quickly? Warriors don't buy other people's wars for free. What is your real scheme here? Speak."
I took a deep breath. The cold air in the arsenal felt thick.
There was no diplomacy that would work with her right now; only the raw truth.
Slowly, to avoid provoking a fatal attack, I reached for my tactical pouch. I pulled out the sealed metallic cylinder and held it up. The green glow of the spear reflected off the metal's surface.
"My mission had a single objective," I said, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. "To deliver this scroll directly into the hands of the Elven Queen."
The air in the room froze.
"You were sent to my mother," she hissed, betrayal and fury burning in every syllable. "And you had the audacity to sleep in my camp knowing that. Give me a single reason why I shouldn't rip your head off right now."
I tossed the spear back to her.
She caught it mid-air with ease, but stepped back slightly.
"The reason is that I had no idea who you people were," I countered, taking a step forward. My voice gained weight as my own aura began to vibrate in response to her hostility. "I didn't know there was a civil war. I came here to make a blind delivery and got dragged into the middle of a damn family feud."
I let go of the metallic scroll and tossed it through the darkness, straight to her.
Sillys caught the cylinder with her free hand. Her glowing eyes lowered to the unbroken seal for a fraction of a second before returning to me.
"You could have continued your journey," she murmured, weighing the metal. "If you're just a messenger, why choose to turn your back on your orders and side with me?"
"Because Lavinsk told me to close my eyes, but I'm not blind," I replied firmly. "I don't fight for queens who hide on safe thrones while their people bleed in the mud. I saw what your mother abandoned. I saw you tearing your own body apart to keep those people alive. I will always choose the side of whoever gets their hands dirty on the front lines."
Sillys fell absolutely silent.
The murderous tension choking the room began to slowly dissipate, replaced by something much deeper and more dangerous.
A low, almost dark laugh escaped her lips.
"'Deliver this directly into the hands of the Queen,'" she repeated my orders, finding an ironic, sharp amusement in the situation. "Are the words literal, Suki?"
"They are."
She raised her face. The blue crystals in the arsenal gradually lit up again, illuminating the fierce, determined expression that had replaced her anger.
"Then the problem is very simple to solve," she murmured, walking toward me with measured steps. "All I need to do is become the Queen. And, suddenly, you will just be fulfilling your mission."
She stopped an arm's length away and held out her hand. Not as a grateful princess, but as a monarch demanding loyalty.
"Help me take that throne."
I looked at her outstretched hand, then at the pale eyes that carried the weight of an entire exile. It was the beginning of a treason that would change that continent.
I gripped her hand tightly, sealing the deal. I flashed a half-smile.
"Consider it done."
Sillys took a few steps back, her eyes gleaming with deliberate intent, and tossed the scroll back to me.
"You use a sword, right?"
"Yes," I answered. "But I've never used anything like..." I looked around at the elegant elven weapons surrounding us. "...this."
Sillys raised a spear forged from a dull, living metal.
"Then learn a new art."
She threw the spear straight at my chest again, this time forcing me to step backward to catch it.
"I have a mission for you, Suki. Learn to use the spear with the best warriors in this village... and reach my level."
"Or at least try."
I adjusted the weapon awkwardly in my hands, feeling the weight of the black shaft.
"What other choice do I have, right? I'll give it my best."
The heavy wooden door of the arsenal opened, and the lively light from the camp's fires hit us immediately. The suffocating tension we shared in the dark was left behind, replaced by a new kind of focus, cold and determined.
We walked side by side along the suspended walkways, leaving the central area. The village was still bustling with reconstruction and cleaning teams, but Sillys's presence now parted the crowd like the keel of a ship cutting through the sea.
The elves stopped what they were doing and bowed their heads in respect as we passed. She no longer looked like the exhausted leader on the verge of breaking from a few hours ago; the lethal pact we had just sealed seemed to have returned the invisible crown to her head.
We descended a wide spiral staircase carved directly into the bark of one of the colossal trees, moving away from the residential cabins toward a lower, isolated platform.
The air there was different. It smelled of old sweat, resin, and splintered wood.
In the distance, Laura and Arthur were already waiting for us, leaning against the railing that surrounded the area. They noticed our approach and straightened up immediately, Laura's eyes falling straight onto the metal spear I was awkwardly carrying.
She gave a half-smile, already understanding what was about to happen.
Sillys didn't waste time. She stopped at the entrance to the structure, filled her lungs with the freezing forest air, and let her voice project the absolute authority of a monarch. The sound echoed through the upper walkways, cutting over the camp's noise with military clarity.
"Vandashi! Bigster! Kanzo!" Her call sliced through the night wind. "North training courtyard. Immediately."
It didn't even take two minutes.
The sound of heavy boots and hurried footsteps echoed across the living wood above us. The three elven captains descended the stairs in military sync and lined up before us at the edge of the arena. The fire of loyalty I had stoked in them in the war room still burned strong in their postures, ready for any order.
Each of them carried a completely different presence.
Kanzo — sharp eyes. Perfect posture.
Vandashi — the youngest, deep scars, and the kind of gaze that measured a person's soul.
Bigster Odássio — massive like a fortress, calm with the weight of countless wars on his back.
The arena was huge, built of living wood that flexed slightly under each step, while constant winds spiraled through the open space.
My energy pulsed instinctively.
Sillys crossed her arms proudly as the forest wind circulated through the open space.
"My forge courtyard," she announced, her voice echoing off the living wood walls. "This is where legends are born, and where boys are separated from men."
She stopped in the center of the arena and turned to me.
"You have brute strength, Suki. That Taranpus carcass proved it," she began, evaluating how I held the spear. "But at the vanguard of our formation, brute strength without technique is just a large target. If you're going to clear the path to the main nest, you need to fight like one of us. You need to master the extent of our culture."
She turned to the three captains lined up in silence.
"The training won't be friendly advice. It will be a baptism," Sillys decreed, pointing to the elf with the scarred face. "You will start with the basics. Vandashi will be your first opponent. He will break your swordsman habits and test your survival instinct."
Sillys walked slowly, passing behind the captains.
"Only when—and if—you earn Vandashi's approval will you have the right to advance to Kanzo," she pointed to the sharp-eyed veteran. "He will teach you what rhythm means and how to truly breathe the wind. After him, Odássio will test if your body can handle the weight of true spear mastery."
Sillys stopped at the edge of the arena, her pale eyes shining with a lethal challenge under the moonlight.
"And when you have survived all three... you will fight me."
I gulped, spinning the spear in my hands. An escalating challenge against the absolute elite of an ancient army.
Sillys nodded to Laura and Arthur, who leaned against the wooden stands in the distance, simply watching. The princess crossed her arms and assumed her post as the judge of the imminent massacre.
Vandashi stepped forward, separating himself from the other two captains.
Without a word, he removed the breastplate of his armor and tossed it casually aside. The impact of the heavy metal broke the floor beneath it with a dull thud—and then, right before my eyes, the living wood floor contorted and repaired itself instantly, as if obeying the breathing of the courtyard itself.
To my surprise, Vandashi's discarded armor floated smoothly and levitated back to its resting stand on the wall all on its own.
I stared, incredulous at the level of magic imbued in that place. I shook my head to snap out of the shock and took off my shirt, throwing it to the ground and standing bare-chested in the cold early morning breeze.
The metal of the training spear bit into my palm. I could already feel myself synchronizing with the weapon's weight, letting adrenaline replace the fatigue.
So, it was just me and the spear.
And a line of three predators, simply waiting for their turn to tear me apart.
Vandashi's voice sounded calm in the silence of the arena. He took the first step, his spear spinning in his hands with a terrifying fluidity.
"The spear was the first daughter of the wind. Simple. Long. Precise," the raspy voice of the scarred captain echoed across the open courtyard. "There are two truths to the spear: reach and rhythm. Whoever controls rhythm... controls death. But before you swing that like any old stick, you need to understand what you're holding."
Vandashi stopped the weapon in mid-air, its sharp tip inches from my throat, and looked me in the eyes.
"Know the weapon before using it. That goes for all types."
Those words hit me like a phantom punch.
My mind was violently pulled back to the mountains, years ago. I felt the freezing weight of my first real steel sword in my hands. Silver was sitting on a snow-covered rock next to me, throwing stones into the planet's horizon while spending almost an hour telling me who had forged my steel and what ore he had used.
I remembered huffing, tired and impatient.
*"Why do I need to know all this crap, Silver? It's a sword. You just swing and cut."*
The platinum-haired warrior stopped throwing stones at the horizon. He lowered his stern eyes to me, his voice cutting through the cold mountain wind with the exact same words Vandashi had just used.
He threw a stone at my forehead.
*"Ow, that hurt."*
*"Know the weapon before using it, kid,"* Silver had scolded. *"History creates connection. Connection creates intention. A weapon without intention is just a dead piece of iron."*
I snapped back to the present, the cold elven morning breeze hitting my bare chest.
I cracked a nostalgic smile, feeling a familiar warmth ignite in my chest. I tightened my fingers around the black wood of the spear, and it suddenly stopped feeling like a strange piece of wood.
The intention had been born.
Vandashi narrowed his eyes, sensing the immediate shift in the weight of my aura. He pulled back his spear and dropped into a combat stance.
"Cross grip. Guiding hand at two-thirds. Locking hand near the base," Vandashi instructed coldly, assuming his own stance. "Keep your fingers alive. Low stance. Loose heels. Breathe."
"Watch the fundamentals. And don't blink," he ordered, his deep voice slicing through the night breeze.
In the next millisecond, his arms vanished into a blur. The tip of the spear shot out in a flawless straight line, stopping millimeters from a leaf falling from the tree.
"Front thrust. The fastest path to the heart. *Kaze Ichi*."
With a slight snap of the wrist, the weapon's tip rose in a dry strike, aiming at an invisible throat.
"High thrust. *Kaze Ni*."
Without losing momentum, Vandashi threw his own body weight downward. The shaft swept the living wood floor with a terrifying hum that kicked up dust.
"Low sweep to destroy balance. *Kaze San*."
He rose, propelled by his hips, and the spear spiraled forward, tearing the air like a drill.
"Piercing twist. Destroy the flesh from the inside. *Fusei*."
To finish, in a single continuous flow, he leaped back, dodging a phantom counter-attack, used his heel as a pivot to rotate his entire body, and used the inertia to sink the spear forward with lethal force.
"Retreat, pivot, and counter-entry. *Fūga*."
Vandashi returned to his starting posture without a single drop of sweat marring his face. He pointed the spear shaft in my direction.
"Your turn. And we're not stopping until your brain forgets how to hold a sword."
Then came the hell of repetition.
I lunged with my first thrust. The shaft of Vandashi's spear cracked violently against the side of my ribs, knocking the wind out of me.
"Too stiff! Your shoulders are locked!" he yelled. "You're trying to cut, not pierce!"
I gritted my teeth and tried again. And again.
High thrust. *Kaze Ni*. I tensed my wrist too much. Vandashi slammed the wood hard into the back of my knee, making me stumble and hit my knees on the floor.
"Get up! *Kaze San*!"
Sweat began pouring down my face, stinging my eyes. My deltoids burned like they were on fire. The black shaft of the spear was already starting to rip the skin off my palms, but I refused to let go of the weapon.
Absolute exhaustion tried to take its toll, making my legs tremble during the *Fusei* twist, but there was something magical about that place.
With every gust of freezing wind that hit my bare chest, the wood beneath my feet seemed to respond, subtly pushing my heels and adjusting my balance to the correct angles whenever I was about to fall.
"The spear depends on you, force your body! *Fūga*!" Vandashi growled, advancing on me to force me to execute the retreat perfectly.
Gradually, the technique began to sink into my nerves.
Vandashi took another step back, panting, and simply watched as I connected all the strikes he had just taught into a single violent fluidity.
Thrust, rise, low sweep, twist, and retreat pivot.
I didn't stumble and I didn't hesitate. I stopped in the exact posture he had demanded, the tip of my spear humming in the air.
The scarred captain slowly lowered his weapon. The exhaustion and anger on his face gave way to barely contained astonishment.
"By the gods..." Vandashi muttered, wiping the sweat from his own forehead and exchanging a shocked look with Kanzo. "This kid's muscular instinct is aberrant. He swallows technique."
Vandashi took a step back and nodded.
It was the second predator's turn.
Kanzo took the center of the arena, his posture perfectly aligned, and began to move. Instead of barking orders, he transformed the basic strikes into a lethal, continuous dance.
Right foot forward. Dry thrust, the wind whistling.
The black shaft rotated through his fingers in a sweep that kicked up dust, only for him to retreat smoothly and thrust once more.
He didn't open his eyes once. It looked like the spear was pulling him, not the other way around.
I tried to imitate him like a shadow on the other side of the arena. My first strike was too heavy. The second, slightly delayed. I failed the sweep.
My brute strength was breaking the fluidity.
I took a deep breath. I abandoned the instinct to force the muscle and focused on agility, letting the weapon guide my wrist.
I tried again. Closer.
The sound of our spears cutting the air began to merge into a single, rhythmic, continuous hum across the courtyard.
I tried to imitate him like a shadow on the other side of the arena, but the difference between us was glaring.
When Kanzo executed the first thrust, I followed. But I put too much power into my shoulders. The excess force pulled me awkwardly forward, and my foot slammed hard onto the wood to stop me from falling on my face.
Kanzo was already rotating into the sweep. I hastily spun the shaft to keep up. The tip of my spear didn't cut the wind; it scraped crookedly and hit the living wood floor with a dry *clack*, halting the movement and sending a painful shock straight to my wrists.
I tried to fix it by pulling the weapon back for the retreat, but my heels got tangled. I tripped over my own weight, looking like a lumberjack swinging a heavy stick, while Kanzo continued floating on the other side of the arena, undisturbed, looking like a ghost dancing in the breeze.
My brute strength was an absolute anchor shattering any chance of fluidity.
I paused for a second. I took a deep breath, letting the sweat drip from my chin.
*Let go of the damn weight*, I ordered myself.
I opened my hands, loosening the tension in my fingers until the spear almost slipped from my palm. I abandoned the murderous instinct to crush the target and focused entirely on agility. I needed to let the weapon's inertia guide my wrist, not the other way around.
I tried again.
Right foot. Thrust. My shoulders stayed in place.
Wrist spin. The shaft descended, and the blade hissed exactly a millimeter from the floor, without touching it.
Retreat and final thrust. My feet finally glided across the wood instead of stomping hard on it.
The raw sound of my spear cutting the air and the smooth whistle of Kanzo's weapon began to draw closer. One more cycle. One more adjustment in my breathing.
And then, it happened.
The whistles of our two weapons merged into a single, rhythmic, continuous hum that echoed in perfect harmony across the training courtyard.
I had finally found his timing.
Without stopping his movements, and still with his eyes closed, Kanzo spoke:
"You're keeping up surprisingly fast for someone who doesn't control the wind."
I locked my legs and stopped the spear mid-air in the same second. I blinked, sweat dripping from my eyelashes.
"Hold on. Wind?" I asked, panting. "You were using the wind this whole time to guide the weapon and didn't warn me?! That explains why your spear glides so smoothly!"
Kanzo stopped his lethal dance and opened one eye slightly.
"And you matched my speed using no wind at all."
I let out a laugh, resting the spear on the ground.
"You guys are cheaters," I laughed.
"You and Sillys are unbelievable."
Kanzo gestured to the stands with his head, flashing a cynical half-smile.
"Elves are born touching the air itself; it's our nature. Training only refines what is ours."
He slowly closed his left hand.
A miniature tornado formed inside his palm, tiny, but spinning with enough pressure to make my hair stand on end from afar.
My warrior side screamed danger, but in that moment, admiration spoke louder. I broke into a huge smile, like a kid seeing magic for the first time.
"Man, that is so badass!"
Kanzo's eyes gleamed mischievously.
"Always watch your footing, kid."
Suddenly, Kanzo slammed his palm loudly against the wood.
A violent gust of air exploded across the courtyard like an invisible cannon shot.
I was launched straight backward, my feet leaving the ground, and flew across the arena until I slammed hard against the stands, landing sprawled out right next to Vandashi and old Odássio.
The two captains burst out laughing.
Vandashi grabbed my wrist curiously, studying me closely as I stood up.
"What exactly are you, boy?" his voice was a deep murmur. "I sense something different in your aura. Human? No... there's the same divine breath I sense from Sillys and those two friends of yours. But there's something... raw in you. Unusual."
I sat on the bleachers and rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, feeling my back muscles throb from the impact against the hard wood.
"Honestly, I don't know the limit of it either," I admitted, catching my breath. "A few years ago I found out I'm the son of a Goddess and a human. My power started waking up and taking shape after that."
Odássio rested his massive arms on the railing and raised a bushy eyebrow, his armor creaking slightly.
"A demigod," the old captain noted. "Like Princess Sallys."
I frowned, genuinely confused by the comparison.
"Just Sallys? What about Sillys?"
Vandashi looked away toward the center of the empty courtyard. When he spoke, his voice dropped an octave, heavy with a silent, profound reverence.
"Sillys is different, Suki. Her blood isn't diluted. She is a full goddess."
I went mute.
The memory of her—exhausted, scarred, and bleeding to protect the entire village with her own vital energy—flashed through my mind. She had the power of an untouchable deity, but she chose to crawl in the mud for her soldiers.
"...Incredible," I muttered quietly, the respect for her deepening in my veins.
"Boy. Here."
Kanzo's dry call cut across the courtyard.
I pushed the divine revelations aside, grabbed my spear, and leaped back into the arena, spinning the weapon in my hands with renewed energy.
Kanzo didn't enter a combat stance. He just pointed at my weapon.
"Hold it horizontally. Close your eyes."
I obeyed, feeling the forest breeze.
"You've already learned to control your aura's energy, right?" he asked.
"The basics!" I shouted back from across the arena.
Vandashi approached the railing, taking on the role of theoretical instructor.
"Then you already know how to channel that crushing force through your body and compress it into your attacks. That raw impact that shattered that monster earlier."
"I do."
Odássio uncrossed his arms and slammed his fist on the wood.
"Then reverse the process. Now expand. Don't hold it inside your muscles. Push your energy outward, feel the flow of the air in the courtyard, and force your aura to mix with it."
Easy to do during the fury of battle.
Absurdly difficult in the calm.
In combat, rage and survival instinct push everything forward automatically, like a dam breaking and sweeping everything away. But standing there, perfectly still with my eyes closed, I had to open the floodgates manually.
I thought about the crushing pressure of the monster during Silver's training.
About Kamiko's cold precision.
About that crystal clear, clean sensation when the axes of the world suddenly align perfectly around a strike.
Kânia's words resurfaced in my memory like a soft echo:
*Focus on specific points... then expand.*
I took a deep breath.
I pulled the dense, dark energy lying dormant in my core and funneled it straight to the palm of my right hand.
The pressure against my skin began to vibrate violently, hot and heavy.
Then, I opened my hand.
The courtyard howled.
It wasn't a breeze. A dense, colossal, almost visible blast of wind erupted from my palm like a jet turbine.
The air began to spin with absurd force. Kanzo was thrown backward instantly, his boots sliding and burning against the living wood for several meters before he managed to dig his spear into the ground to brake.
Up in the stands, Vandashi and Odássio were forced to violently grab the railings, their uniform capes whipping madly as if they were in the middle of a hurricane.
The wind kept leaking out of me, flooding the arena, freezing and absurdly smooth, as sharp as a razor blade brushing against the skin.
Startled by the sheer amount of destruction, I clenched my fist tight.
The storm was decapitated instantly. The wind vanished. Silence fell heavy over the arena's wood once again.
I opened my eyes. My palm was literally frozen, emitting a thin white smoke of cold vapor into the night air.
Vandashi let go of the railing slowly and flashed a wide, dangerous smile of approval.
"Perfect, boy. First step completed."
Odássio burst into laughter, a thick, booming laugh that echoed through the forest as he dusted off his silver armor.
"And what a first step... this brat is a monster."
I stood there, alone in the middle of the arena, hair messy, my chest rising and falling frantically. I looked at my own hand, still steaming, and couldn't help myself.
I broke into an ear-to-ear grin, panting and amazed like an idiot.
"Man... this is too good!"
Kanzo walked back to the center of the courtyard, his expression entirely serious now. The basic test was over.
"Let's engrave this into your body. Three basic forms. Then variations."
He raised the spear, settling into his stance.
"Form I — *Shōfū* (Short Breeze)."
"Short step. Dry thrust to the solar plexus. Retreat into a low sweep."
"Rhythm: ta-ta... ta."
He shifted smoothly into the second stance.
"Form II — *Aragane* (Hard Wind)."
"Long lunge. Piercing twist. Pivot behind the torso. High thrust under the chin."
"Rhythm: taa—TA—ta."
Then the third.
"Form III — *Rinrai* (Gale Thread)."
"Rotate the shaft to break the guard. Diagonal sweep. Reverse-point charge."
"Rhythm: ta-ta-ta—TA."
Every time I lost the rhythm or tripped on the pivot, the butt of Kanzo's spear cracked mercilessly against my ankle, correcting my posture.
"Now with wind."
I slightly opened my palm, releasing just a continuous thread of energy from my aura. The blade sang under the pressure, making the thrusts incredibly lighter and the recoveries almost instantaneous.
*Shōfū*, *Aragane*, and *Rinrai* ceased to be separate movements and became a single, free, and continuous flow.
Up in the stands, Vandashi murmured to the old captain:
"He learns at a dangerous speed."
"And he likes learning. That's even worse," Odássio retorted, watching closely.
I couldn't wipe the panting, stupid smile off my face, drenched in sweat.
The weapon was finally dancing with me.
"Enough," Kanzo ordered, lowering his spear and pointing to the watchtower.
A heavy bronze bell hung high up there, far from the arena.
"A little test. Hit the bell using only the wind."
I closed my eyes and leveled my breathing.
Instead of trying to aim with my eyes, I focused my mind on the air's flow to the target. I concentrated a pure line of energy into my hand, guided the pressure through the black wood shaft, and fired a strike into the void. The energy cut off the tip of the blade like an invisible supersonic shot.
The air cracked.
And then, a heavy, clear metallic tone echoed throughout the courtyard. The bell trembled high in the tower.
Vandashi gave a half-smile.
Odássio nodded seriously.
Kanzo just let out a satisfied "Hm."
I took a step back, lowering the spear. Adrenaline exploded in my chest, sweeping away the exhaustion. Utterly euphoric, eyes shining like an excited kid, I yelled to the empty arena:
"HOLY SHIT! IT WORKED!"