The courtyard rang with the crash of water against stone. Kazuo's blade cut through the air, but the arc of water that should have followed sputtered halfway, breaking into scattered droplets before it reached the target post.
He set his jaw, shifting his stance. Again. The sword hummed in his grip as he forced the flow tighter, his breath syncing with each swing. This time, the stream held together longer — a jagged crescent of water whipping forward before collapsing into a useless spray.
Kazuo hissed through his teeth. He raised the blade again, shoulders aching, feet raw from sliding across the stone.
On the edge of the yard, Setsuna leaned against the fence, arms crossed. He watched in silence, a rice cracker untouched in his hand. Every failed strike drew a fresh splash across the stones, but he could see it — the progress. Kazuo's control was rough, but it was sharpening with every attempt.
Cedric expected him to lose. That much was clear. Setsuna exhaled slowly through his nose, gaze following the collapsing arc of water that never quite reached its mark.
So what should I do? After all that effort — after all I've seen in him — just let him lose?
But was that even a bad thing? If he failed, Cedric would be satisfied. Kazuo wouldn't care either as long he can return to gramps. A Pawn in the hands of the king.
Still, the thought gnawed at him. What would you do, Eleanor? The image of her face rose sharp in his mind, soft and steady where his was wavering.
Setsuna closed his eyes, the sound of Kazuo's training fading into the background. "I know you're here."
When he opened them again, Idris was already at his side, as if the space between had folded away. Smoke curled from the cigar between his fingers, drifting lazily into the air.
Setsuna's mouth twitched faintly. "I could smell that cigarette from a mile off."
Idris exhaled, the ember glowing at the tip. "My cigarette… or my aura?"
"What do you want, Idris? Spying on Kazuo for Aoi?"
He gave the faintest shrug. "Like he needs that. I'm here to warn you."
His next words were heavier. "Aoi doesn't just want to win and beat Kazuo. He aims to kill him."
Setsuna's eyes snapped open, his posture straightening from the fence. "What? He wants to kill Kazuo?"
Idris nodded once. "Specifically Kazuo."
A pause stretched. Setsuna's voice dropped, sharper now. "Did the king order this?"
"No." Idris took a slow drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl between them. "It's his own goal."
The special unit doing the Crown's dirty work was nothing new — but this was different. This was personal.
"I thought you deserved to know, at least that much." Idris's eyes met his for a moment, then slid away as he drew another drag. "Make of it what you will."
He left as quietly as he'd come, and vanished.
Setsuna stayed rooted in place, gaze drifting back to the boy still hacking at the air, oblivious to anything but the water failing to obey him.
his hand curled into a fist at his side. So that's it. I can't let him die. No matter what. Eleanor… I'll put everything I can into this. His eyes hardened with resolve as he stepped closer to the training ground.
Kazuo glanced up from his stance, sweat clinging to his brow, but a smile tugged faintly at his lips. "Captain… did you finally figure out a strategy to overcome his lightning?"
Setsuna's mouth curved into a grin, sharp and certain. "I did. And you will crush Aoi into the ground."
The two of them stood facing each other, both smiling — one with determination, the other with absolute conviction.
A short while later, Kazuo sank cross-legged onto the stone, sweat still rolling down his neck. Setsuna crouched beside him, a twig in hand, and began to sketch lines into the dust.
"Here's the problem," Setsuna said. "Water conducts lightning. That makes most of your magic useless against Aoi. If you throw out Torrent, he can counter with lightning—and it'll travel right back along your spell and fry you. A lot of your techniques start like that, don't they?"
Kazuo nodded slowly, eyes tracing the rough lines.
Setsuna tapped the twig against the dirt. "Think about it. Water Wall? It'll hold for a heartbeat, then collapse the second his current smashes through. Torrent? A straight path into your chest. Even your Arcane—if you unleash it while tethered to yourself, the lightning will hijack it before you can finish. Every connection you make is a road he can use."
He dragged the twig into a curved path instead of a straight line. "So the first rule is never to give him that road back to you. The only way forward is to control where the lightning goes—redirect it. If it hits your water, you bleed it off, guide it aside, force it to take an exit that isn't through your body."
Kazuo frowned. "Redirect? What do you mean?"
Setsuna scratched another quick sketch, this one a jagged line splitting into two paths. "Lightning always takes the shortest road. So you give it one. You don't block it—you build a channel. Make it follow the path you choose."
"So it's like… making a lightning road."
"Exactly."
"But how am I supposed to pull that off? I'd have to change the way I use every single spell."
"That's what we're going to train tomorrow," Setsuna said. He tossed the twig aside. "After your tag run with Sora."
Kazuo let out a slow breath, nodding. "Alright. Tomorrow."
Setsuna tilted his head, watching him. "In the meantime—have you come up with anything new?"
Kazuo's lips pressed thin. "No. I still have no clue how to dodge midair or how to invent a new spell from scratch. But…" He hesitated, "Sora said something interesting."
"Did she now?"
"She told me water exists everywhere in nature—that I should learn to draw it out of the surroundings instead of just conjuring it."
"Sora knows that?" He gave a quiet huff. "Well, she's not wrong. You can pull droplets from the air, or sweat off stone, or the moisture in soil. But unless you're standing next to an ocean, it's barely anything. A trickle at best. Hardly useful in a fight."
Kazuo sighed. "Then how would that help me?"
"Because you've already done it," Setsuna said.
"Huh? I did?", he said confused.
"Yes. Think about it carefully. Against Kaya, you used Torrent from your feet to accelerate. You didn't conjure that water directly from your body—you pulled it into shape beneath you and forced it outward. And your Water Shuriken? You didn't pour water out of your hands. You shaped it from the moisture already in the air. Both times you weren't conjuring—you were drawing from what was already there."
Kazuo blinked. "I… didn't realize."
He lowered his eyes, replaying the clashes in his head. And the tag training with Sora. For a heartbeat, something sparked inside him. An idea was taking shape.
Setsuna's voice hardened. "Let's talk about the biggest problem—Aoi's Esoteric Art. You've never faced one, and this is the one thing I have genuinely no idea how to guard against. But you should expect that he's going to use it."
The words of Yuki echoed in Kazuos head—what kind of guy Aoi really was, and the question he left him with: What will you do if he unleashes his Esoteric Art on you?
"I've been thinking about that," Kazuo said. His tone was firm, but there was a weight behind it. "And I do have an idea."
Setsuna lowered his head, eyes fixed on the ground, lost in thought. "You did?"
"Terrain Enforcement," Kazuo answered.
Setsuna's head snapped up at once, his eyes locking on Kazuo's. "Are you out of your mind? That's suicide. You'd be fried alive before you even finished forming it."
"That's the point."
Setsuna stared at him, momentarily dumbfounded, not understanding what he meant.
Kazuo continued, his voice steady. "From what I've gathered, an Esoteric Art is always bound to the user's element. In Aoi's case, that means lightning. If I flood the field with water, then any attempt to unleash it would strike everything around us. He wouldn't just hit me—he'd hit himself too."
Setsuna's expression hardened. "And how exactly are you going to learn Terrain Enforcement in such a short time?"
"I don't have to,"
"What do you mean, Kazuo?"
He put one finger up, "I only have to simulate it."
For the first time, Setsuna was genuinely caught off guard. He closed his eyes, drew in a long breath, and gathered his thoughts.
"I've told you before to stop gambling in fights like this," he said quietly. "It's reckless and insane."
Kazuo held his gaze.
Setsuna opened his eyes again, sharp and clear. "But… it could work."
A faint smile tugged at Kazuo's mouth at the acknowledgment.
Setsuna exhaled sharply, a sudden grin flashing across his face. "Listen—you're an idiot. Even I wouldn't have come up with something like that. But promise me one thing: you only use this tactic as an absolute last resort."
He gave a single nod. "Deal."
Setsuna stood up, brushing the dust from his hands. "Good. Now then—back to your resonance training."
With that, a solid strategy is forming. But will this be truly enough?
—
Down in the Lower Crescent, Rei carried a small parcel through the narrow streets, weaving past lantern posts and patched stone walls. He stopped at the door of a noble's residence, gave his brightest smile, and handed over the delivery. The noble, snobby as ever, sniffed and muttered, "At least try to be punctual next time. Some of us have standards." Then he shut the door in Rei's face.
Rei puffed his cheeks, straightened his back in a pompous pose, and parroted in a high-pitched, mocking tone, "At least try to be punctual next time, some of us have standards!" He held the pose a moment longer, then broke into a laugh.
"Yeah, yeah… standards," he snorted, shaking his head. "Oh man. I wanted to visit Kazuo again." He scratched at his spiky red hair. "But that'll have to wait."
As he turned to leave, he paused. A faint melody drifted through the street—not a song exactly, just a pattern of notes carried on the air. This time there was no voice, but he was certain. By that melody, it had to be her—the woman with the gray eyes and the long brown braid.