The wind howled across the barren plateau where Kyota stood, the sky a dull gray canvas stretched far above. A cold sun hung motionless, casting light that felt as heavy as stone. The wizard's cloak fluttered behind him as he stared deep into Kyota's determined, yet fatigued eyes.
"You're not ready for light or darkness," the wizard said, voice calm yet stern. "You've tasted both. They are not just elements—they are truths. Dangerous truths. If you want to live long enough to master them, you must walk the path backward. Reclaim what you once held. Start with fire."
Kyota's hands clenched at his sides. His cursed marks had faded ever since the berserk episode. He felt hollow—like a weapon that had lost its edge.
"Then I'll start today," Kyota replied, his voice low. "No matter what it takes."
Yuki watched him from a distance, arms wrapped around herself. Her usual warmth had been replaced with concern, and something else—fear.
The wizard nodded. "Good. Then prepare to burn your soul."
The training ground was a dead volcanic ridge, lifeless but still trembling with residual heat under the surface. Blackened rocks and ash covered the land like a graveyard for forgotten warriors.
Day 1 began with stillness. Kyota sat cross-legged in the center of a runic circle drawn by the wizard. His goal: channel his mana to the core of his being, ignite the soul's fire, and hold it without being consumed.
At first, it was meditation.
By nightfall, it became torment.
Day 2 brought agony.
Kyota's body trembled as he forced the mana to circle through his meridians. Each loop burned hotter than the last. Fire was not just heat—it was memory, desire, will.
By midday, his arms were blistered from within, steam rising from his pores.
"Don't force it," Yuki whispered, kneeling beside him to change the bandages on his hands. "You'll burn yourself alive."
"I have to," Kyota muttered, barely audible. "If I can't control this… I'll never protect you."
She stared at him, her eyes shimmering. But she said nothing.
Day 3 came with screams.
The fire within him lashed out like a beast uncaged. Kyota's cursed burns began to glow faintly red, responding to the heat. He screamed into the sky, eyes wide as blue flames began dancing on his fingertips—cold yet searing.
Yuki stood at the edge of the circle, watching. Her heart ached with every cry.
The wizard intervened only when the fire tried to consume Kyota's heart. "You're channeling pain, not purpose," he scolded. "Fire needs resolve, not sorrow. Or it will turn against you."
Kyota collapsed into the ash, gasping. "I… I'm trying…"
"No," the wizard said quietly, "you're surviving. That's not the same."
Day 4 tested his mind.
Sleep became an enemy. The fire whispered to him at night—memories of the people he failed to protect, the lives consumed by war, the silent tears he never cried.
At dusk, Yuki brought him soup, only to find him standing with flames flickering in his hair, eyes glowing like embers.
"Kyota?" she called softly.
He turned—and in that moment, the fire took over.
His hand raised instinctively, a flame-blade forming in an instant. It hurled toward her with speed unnatural.
Yuki didn't have time to scream.
But the wizard did.
A wave of gravity-like mana struck Kyota's side, sending him skidding across the volcanic rock.
When he rose, horror flooded his face. "Yuki—I—I didn't mean to…"
Yuki knelt, unharmed, but pale. Her lips trembled. "You said you'd protect me…"
Kyota looked down at his hands. They were not hands—they were weapons.
"I'm a monster," he whispered.
Day 5 was silence.
Kyota didn't eat. Didn't speak. Didn't move from where the wizard had struck him down. Ash had started to settle in his hair, turning it ghostly pale.
Yuki approached him, kneeling behind his back. She placed a hand on his shoulder, though it trembled to do so.
"I'm scared of you," she said softly. "But I'm more scared of losing you."
Kyota's lips parted slightly.
Yuki's voice cracked. "The Kyota I know… he's not someone who gives up. He's someone who laughs at danger and yells at fate. So yell. Scream. Burn. But don't fade away."
Her tears fell onto his burned skin. "Please…"
Something inside Kyota shifted. Not rage. Not sorrow. Something warmer.
He stood slowly.
And walked back into the runic circle.
Day 6 was survival.
He summoned the fire again—not through pain, but through purpose. Every breath he took pulled mana through his veins. Every heartbeat synced with the rhythm of the flames.
He whispered to the fire now—not as a master, but as a friend.
"I don't want to destroy. I want to protect."
The flames danced.
He shaped them into forms: a phoenix, a sword, a shield.
Yuki watched from afar, her heart swelling with hope.
Even the wizard raised an eyebrow. "He's learning."
Day 7 was a triumph.
The sun rose over the blackened ridge, and Kyota stood in the center of the circle, surrounded by rings of blue and red fire. They did not burn him.
They were him.
His eyes opened—brilliant orange with a spark of sky blue. He inhaled deeply and thrust his hand forward. A roaring pillar of flame surged into the heavens, parting the clouds for the first time in days.
The wizard appeared beside Yuki. "He did it."
Yuki smiled softly, wiping a tear. "I knew he would."
Kyota stepped forward, breathing heavily but standing tall. His cape fluttered with residual heat, the cursed burns now glowing like controlled lava marks.
He walked to Yuki and knelt.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For everything."
Yuki reached out, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Just don't scare me like that again."
The wizard turned his gaze skyward. "One element down. Four to go."
Kyota looked at his hands, now warmed by inner fire, not rage. "I'm ready.
Let's tame them all. I will get back all the elements that were once taken from me."