The marketplace was just as noisy and crowded as the day before, but Kaito's steps carried purpose. The Circle followed him reluctantly, curious about what else he could possibly want after spending so much gold already.
He stopped at a weaponsmith's stall, eyes scanning the racks. One by one, he chose his upgrades:
A double-edged spearhead, razor sharp.
A chain-linked hook for tripping and pulling.
A weighted iron endcap to crush where cutting wasn't enough.
The smith frowned as he gathered the pieces. "You're building a soldier's arsenal. What are you planning to fight?"
"Whatever comes," Kaito said simply.
But it wasn't just steel he was after. At another stand, rolls of blue fabric caught his attention. These wraps weren't meant for armor — they were binding cloth, tough and durable. He unrolled one, testing the strength of the fibers, then nodded.
"These too."
Mira raised an eyebrow. "More wraps? Didn't you just—"
"They're not for me."
Later, at a jeweler's table, Kaito spotted what he was looking for: a set of blue charms shaped like flame sigils, carved from crystal. They weren't magical, but they glimmered in the light with a quiet fire.
He bought them all without hesitation, tossing another heavy pouch of gold across the counter. The vendor nearly fainted from the weight of it.
The Circle, however, stood frozen.
"Kaito," Ryo muttered, "you just keep throwing money around like it means nothing. Where does it even come from?"
Kaito didn't meet his eyes. "It doesn't matter."
Aria's gaze lingered on him longer than the others, as though she could see through the silence.
—
That night in the academy forge, Kaito stripped his spear bare. He replaced the worn head with the new blade, tightened the shaft with the weighted endcap, and fixed the chain-hook for quick release.
Then, carefully, he wound the fresh blue wraps around the length of the weapon, layer by layer, until the dark wood gleamed with deep azure bands. Finally, he tied the small flame-shaped charms near the head, their faint glow catching every flicker of light.
The spear no longer looked like a common tool of war. It was something else now. Something alive.
Kaito stepped into the training yard. The wrapped shaft fit his hands perfectly, the charms jingling faintly as he spun it. He struck the dummies one after another—wood cracked, straw split, bodies tumbled. The wraps tightened under his grip with every swing, the spear moving as though it belonged only to him.
The Circle watched in silence.
When he stopped, breath steady, the spear glowed faintly under the setting sun—blue wraps coiled tight, charms gleaming like sparks.
Ryo finally broke the quiet. "That's not just a spear anymore."
Kaito rested it against his shoulder, eyes shadowed. "It never was."