Rei's eyes widened in shock, muffled against the old man's hand. Gramps raised a finger to his own lips, signaling silence, and only after Rei gave a stiff nod did he let go.
"Don't ever mention that title aloud," Gramps said. His tone was steady, but beneath it lay something Rei had never heard before — fear.
Why? What's so dangerous about it? Solayne—she said it too—"
"She shouldn't have," Gramps cut him off sharply. His voice dropped until it was nothing but a rasp. "That title… is taboo."
"Taboo? Why??"
Gramps's expression hardened, but instead of answering, he leaned closer. "When she told you that tale… was anyone else nearby? Anyone who might have heard?"
Rei thought back, shook his head. "No. Just me."
He released a slow breath. "Good. Keep it that way. Even whispering that title can bring danger on your head."
Rei leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Danger? Gramps… what do you know about him?"
Gramps glanced around the room, as though shadows themselves might be listening. He whispered back, urgent and tight, "We need to stay quiet. But tell me, Rei — have you ever heard of the uprisings?"
He nodded faintly, matching his tone. "The revolt against the Crown… a long time ago."
"That title you spoke… it was their symbol. The rebels rallied behind it, believing he stood for freedom from the system."
A chill crept through Rei's chest. He whispered back, "So it's true then? There really was a king who tried to break it?"
Gramps's eyes darkened. "Legend calls it so. My own research tells me it was no legend. He was real. The first ruler of Yurelda, back when the kingdom was nothing but forest."
"But… if he was the first ruler, doesn't that mean the order already existed before the kingdom? Doesn't that imply it wasn't made by men at all?"
Gramps said nothing for a long time. At last, he answered in a low murmur, "To be honest, nobody truly knows. But the way that title lingers in old songs and stories… it implies there's more buried beneath history than we may ever uncover."
Rei frowned, remembering. "She sang a song, too. About him. I can't recall the words, not exactly, but I know he was in that folksong."
"Then it was likely their rallying cry. Rei—promise me you'll never mention this again. Not to anyone. Do you understand?"
Rei hesitated, then nodded. "I promise."
"And that woman," Gramps pressed, his tone hardening, "you'd better stay away from her."
Rei's jaw tightened. "What? Why? She hasn't done anything—"
"This isn't a game," Gramps snapped, his voice sharper than Rei had ever heard it. "I can't afford losing you too."
The words struck deep. Rei froze, anger ebbing into silence.
Gramps's shoulders sagged, his voice quieter now. "First Kazuo… and now you? No. I won't risk it. Please, Rei. Promise me."
For a moment, neither spoke. Then Rei slowly reached out, wrapping his hand around Gramps's own, feeling how stiff and trembling it had become.
"I promise you," He said softly.
Gramps closed his eyes, as if the vow itself let him breathe again.
The sky was already dimming when she left Rei behind, the last streaks of orange fading between the crooked rooftops. She walked with steady steps, braid swaying against her back, until the street swallowed her in shadow.
By the time night arrived, the lamps of the Lower Crescent flickered to life, throwing broken light across the cobblestones. She glanced once over her shoulder, then slipped into a narrow alley at the edge of the district.
There, half-hidden behind a warped wooden door, a stairway descended beneath a leaning house. She took it without hesitation.
Halfway down, a figure blocked her path, face lost beneath a hood. His hand lifted, palm open in silent demand.
She did not falter. In a steady whisper, she gave the words: "May the forest bloom on the crown."
The figure stepped aside at once, letting her pass.
The air grew colder as she entered, the sound of the city above muffled. At the bottom lay a chamber lit by lanterns, its walls lined with rough-hewn maps and scattered papers. Voices murmured low, sharp with intent.
The rebellion's hideout.
The chamber was dim, its walls heavy with the scent of old stone and oil lamps. Maps and scraps of parchment lay scattered across the tables, while a handful of figures whispered among themselves. At the far end, behind a veil of shadow, a single silhouette stood apart — the leader.
Solayne stepped forward, her braid brushing against her shoulder as she bowed her head slightly. "I've drawn him closer," she admitted softly. "But… there is something unsettling. He asked me about the Forest King. What if he is able to expose us somehow?"
A ripple of murmurs stirred in the shadows, but the leader's voice cut through, steady and firm. "That's nothing to fear. Let him dig through old symbols all he wants — it changes nothing."
Solayne hesitated. "But do we truly need another symbol?"
The leader leaned forward, eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Do you remember when the last uprising was? Hundreds of years ago. You should know better. The Forest King's banner is long dead." Her voice hardened. "Now, we have something new. Kazuo. The king believes he can chain him, wield him, suppress any spark of rebellion. But he underestimates us. Two can play this game. Kazuo will become the new symbol. His very eyes prove the truth — that the system is man-made, and therefore breakable. Through him, we will tear down the Crown."
A beat of silence. Solayne glanced aside. "…And what of the Lotus? I've heard whispers in the Hollow Veins, more than once."
The leader's tone sharpened. "I don't care about some Lotus. If they serve the Crown, we will crush them. If not, they're irrelevant."
The leader's eyes narrowed, sharp in the lantern glow. "I don't like that look in your eyes. Don't tell me your feelings are clouding your judgment?"
Her words struck like steel, each syllable measured. "I told you why we need that red-haired boy and the old man. This is bigger than either of them — bigger than us. This is for freedom."
Solayne lowered her gaze, braid brushing against her shoulder, the weight of the vow pressing between them.
"When the tournament ends," the woman continued, her tone steady, unyielding, "our game begins. And the era of nobles will come to an end."
The next day, Kazuo was chasing Sora again, their tag spar stretching across the training ground. Dust kicked up around them as he lunged, but she stayed a step ahead, nimble as ever.
"You've gotten better," she called back, laughter in her voice. "Flexibility, mobility — sharper than before."
Kazuo pressed harder, muscles burning. They both launched into the air — Sora dodging midair with feline grace, slipping from his grasp just as she always did.
But this time, something changed.
As she dodged midair, a small platform of water formed beneath Kazuo's boot — no wider than a step, quivering and unstable, but real. He pushed off it, vaulting higher and cutting across her path.
Her eyes widened a fraction before his hand closed around her wrist. Both of them crashed to the dirt in a tumble, rolling until they lay breathless.
Sora shoved herself up on an elbow, staring at him. "What was that?"
From the fence, Setsuna leaned lazily against a post, a rice cracker half-raised. Tetsu was already scribbling notes, glasses slipping down his nose.
Kazuo grinned through heavy breaths. "It worked. It finally worked."
Sora's ears twitched. "Worked? What do you mean?"
Kazuo sat up, brushing dust from his sleeve. "Back against Kaya, I fired Torrent from my feet. Today I tried that same activation — but instead of Torrent, I used the conjuring style of Water Shuriken. Drew water from the air, shaped it into a platform. It lasts only a second, just enough for one step. But it's enough to dodge or jump midair."
Sora blinked, half impressed, half annoyed. "A makeshift foothold… you actually did it."
Kazuo smirked. "Aqua Step."
Setsuna bit into his cracker, a slow grin spreading. "Well, I'll be damned. You actually invented a new spell. It's unstable, wobbly as hell — but it's yours. With that, you might even be able to catch Aoi. Just don't forget… he's faster than Sora, so you'll need to polish it until it's sharp."
ora flicked her tail, ears twitching as she pointed at Kazuo. "Hey, that's not fair! He's using magic!"
"Even if you can catch him," Tetsu cut in, scribbling numbers with a frown, "you still have to handle his lightning, don't you?"
Kazuo sat back in the dirt, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his jaw.
Setsuna finished his cracker and dusted off his hands. "Alright, take a breather. Then get back up and try catching Sora again. You need confidence in that step before anything else. When the sun hits noon, we move on to redirecting drills. Got it? You don't have much time left."
Kazuo exhaled, forcing a nod. For the first time, it felt possible to truly defeat Aoi.