The man sprinted through the narrow alleys of Cindergate, clutching the stolen purse like his life depended on it. Shouts echoed behind him—angry voices, getting closer.
Breath ragged, he ducked into the shadow of a crumbling building, pressing himself against the wall as his heart pounded in his chest.
Damn it. If those two jerks hadn't sold me out, I'd be back at base by now.
Who were they anyway? Definitely not locals. Outsiders—new to Cindergate, no doubt.
Still… it felt like he'd finally shaken them.
He stepped out from the shadows, ready to bolt—
—and froze.
A shadow shifted above him.
"Told you he'd be here," came a voice from the rooftop.
His stomach dropped. No one had seen him. He was sure of it.
Which meant only one thing.
Heroes.
Damn it. My luck just keeps getting worse.
"Yeah, whatever," a second voice replied, bored.
"Hey, you two! Found him yet? Master's ready to move!" called a third.
"Got it. Kutote, go ahead. I'll take this guy in and catch up," said the first voice—then a figure dropped from above, landing lightly beside him.
"I'm on it," Kutote replied, disappearing as quickly as he came.
Another figure dropped down behind the first. He wore a blue kimono patterned with serpents, twin swords strapped to his hips. Overgrown blond hair fell over sharp eyes, and his expression was pure irritation.
The first figure—Itekan—glanced over. "Yo, you're practically stabbing me with your eyes."
"Tsk." Itoyea hissed through his teeth, then vaulted back onto the rooftops.
The thief stared after him, trembling. Then he turned to Itekan, desperation bubbling in his throat.
"P–please! I'll give it back! Just… don't send me to a cell!"
Itekan studied him silently for a long moment—then burst out laughing.
"Sure. Return it. Beg for mercy. Maybe even turn your life around. You've got a knack for stealth—train it. You could end up working for the Lord of this city someday."
The man broke down in tears as Itekan grabbed his collar—and launched them both into the air.
---
They reunited with Headmaster Kime just as the sun reached its peak.
"Master! You found it?" Itekan asked as he approached, noting Togira curled up and asleep beside him.
Togira had evolved again in the past three months. He was smaller now—sleeker, more agile. He almost looked like a cross between a weasel and a feline. Tiny ridges along his back hinted at future wings, and three small horns now glowed faintly on his forehead.
"Welcome back," Kime said. "Yes. The merchant had the same idea as you."
"Told you," Itekan replied, scooping Togira into his arms as they walked together in rhythm. Itoyea and Kutote followed behind, silent but alert.
The past few weeks had been brutal. Kime had pushed them hard during their break.
Right before the term ended, he'd summoned all three to his office and laid it out clearly: they'd spend the break training deep in the Frost Mountains, at the continent's edge.
Even with all the responsibilities surrounding the Tattum-Deru, Kime still found time to drive them past their limits.
Now they rode in a horse-drawn chariot, heading back toward the outskirts of Cindergate, a city in the northern reaches of Tamoru—one of the few regions left untouched by the destruction caused by the Apostles of Death… and Carpathia.
Even now, five months after the battle in the capital, refugees continued to arrive—seeking safety, or at least a place to rebuild.
Their current mission was tied to that chaos.
A Grade B Demonic Beast had been spotted in the nearby mountains. Word had the town's leaders on edge.
As trainee heroes, they weren't allowed to face such threats alone.
So the four of them had teamed up.
---
By late afternoon, their carriage reached the mountain summit. The campfire snapped and hissed as the sun dipped low on the horizon.
Itekan leaned forward, a glint in his eye.
"Itoyea. Up for a quick spar?"
Itoyea glanced up from the roasted rabbit leg in his hand, then smirked.
"What's the wager?"
"Loser carries all the gear back to Four Stars Academy."
"Already on the back foot, huh? Fine. SURE!"
Kutote groaned inwardly. These two again? Still, he got up to follow. He never missed a spar. Every move they used, he copied. Even if he didn't have the strength to replicate them yet, knowledge was power.
The two squared off, five meters apart. Their eyes locked—intense, competitive.
"You challenged," Itoyea said. "So, first move's yours."
"Gladly," Itekan grinned—and vanished.
Itoyea's eyes narrowed. His blade flashed from its sheath in a blur, deflecting invisible strikes as they came.
He hasn't even closed the distance yet…
A high-speed slash came from above. Itoyea raised his sword just in time, parrying it. Itekan materialized mid-air, shadow daggers forming in both hands.
His movements were wild and unpredictable—pure instinct.
But Itoyea had spent months perfecting form, structure, precision. Against chaos, discipline was his weapon.
Their blades clashed. Sparks flew.
Itekan grinned wide.
Then disappeared—only to reappear right in front of him.
Move! his instincts screamed.
He twisted just in time, dodging a sweeping blow that would have cut him in two.
That was too close, Itekan thought as he leapt back. Half a second slower, and I'd have lost my lower body.
"Running already?" Itoyea teased.
Itekan gritted his teeth. Months ago, he would've charged recklessly. After all, his Shadow Spirit could regenerate anything.
But Master Kime had taught him better.
His regeneration wasn't limitless.
"Running? Nah—Round two starts now!"
They launched at each other again.
---
Minutes later, both collapsed beside the fire, panting hard.
Itekan clutched a gaping wound in his side, the flesh slowly knitting itself together.
Itoyea was covered in shallow cuts. His fingers throbbed purple with pain. He took a sip of healing potion as Kime approached.
"So…" Kime began, "Why did you lose, Itekan?"
"My strikes were too open. Itoyea had plenty of chances to counter. His fundamentals are stronger."
"And you, Itoyea?"
"I underestimated his speed and endurance. I burned my best techniques too early. Once I was out of steam, I had to go defensive."
Kime nodded slowly.
"Good. Both accurate. But you missed something important.
"Itekan—your speed, regeneration, and style give you the upper hand in close assassination. Don't waste it on flashy barrages. Aim for the kill. Precision over excess.
"Itoyea—you had the technical advantage. You didn't need to show off. A clean, controlled offense would've shut Itekan down before he got momentum. You let your pride get in the way."
He looked at them both.
"Because of those flaws… it's another draw."
"That's number thirty-seven this month," Kutote muttered from the shadows, his eyes glowing faintly.
He'd memorized every move they used—but without the strength to match them yet, it meant nothing.
That, he thought bitterly, was his defeat.
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.Spiritual Energy (SE)
Spiritual Sea (SS)
Spiritual Signature (SST)
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