After a long session of training, which consisted mostly of Ling Wu using Kazuya as a punching bag to vent her sour mood, the two finally called it a day.
Kazuya scrubbed the grime off in a hot bath, changed into clean casual clothes, and met Ling Wu by the door.
"An eating house opened recently nearby," she said, adjusting her bandages. "I've been meaning to check it out. Let's do lunch."
Kazuya didn't object. He was too tired to argue and too hungry to care where the food came from.
As they walked, the streets were thick with the midday rush. However, as soon as people caught sight of Ling Wu's shock of red hair and the white cloth over her eyes, the crowd parted. Disdainful looks followed her like a bad smell.
Ling Wu seemed entirely unaffected, keeping a steady smile on her face, while Kazuya matched her pace with his usual expressionless mask.
"Hey, Ling Wu," Kazuya said.
She didn't turn. She didn't even acknowledge he'd spoken. Kazuya felt his eye twitch, and he nearly rolled his eyes before trying again.
"Master Ling Wu."
"Yes, my dear disciple?" She turned instantly, her grin widening.
"I've been thinking about ritual arts. Can you teach me?"
Ling Wu pouted, tapping a finger against her chin in thought. After a moment, she shook her head. "I hate to break it to you, but people with a Foci can't use ritual arts. I have the basic knowledge, but I can't teach you the practice."
Kazuya's brows knitted. "Why not?"
"Because ritual arts are powers drawn from the outside world. When someone with an internal Foci tries to pull in external power like that, it creates a conflict. It burdens the Foci until it cracks, usually killing the user in the process."
Kazuya absorbed this. He had lost his Foci, which meant the path was now open to him. Whether that was a fair trade-off for his former life, he still wasn't sure.
"Do you know anyone else who can teach me?"
Ling Wu chuckled, gesturing to the people avoiding them. "Do you really think anyone else wants to deal with me? Aside from weirdos like you and Kalthor, I'm not exactly popular. And Kalthor probably wants my head on a platter after the beating I gave him."
Kazuya felt a flicker of disappointment.
"There are places here to learn the basics," Ling Wu added, "but they won't satisfy you. You don't want a single power-up, you want to get truly strong. Unfortunately, in Monvoo Kingdom, ritual arts and Foci studies aren't as popular as they are elsewhere."
"Then where should I go?"
Ling Wu pouted again, looking genuinely hurt. "You didn't even hesitate. You're already looking for the exit, huh?"
"The deal was for you to train me and me to teach you to bake," Kazuya said flatly. "It's been a week, but you've already made progress. You could find someone better than me to guide you through the rest."
Ling Wu sighed deeply. "That's not the point though... but fine. To answer your question, the best place is Nhu Dominion, which was called the Land of the Gods in ancient times. Not that you can go there now, though."
"Why?"
"Nhu has been closed for four years now, entry and exit are both denied. They say it was because of a rebellion attempt, but I don't buy it. No one actually knows the truth, just rumors." She waved a hand dismissively.
"If I can't go there, tell me the second-best option."
Ling Wu laughed. "Straight to the point, huh? Well, your second option is Luliava. It's famous for top-tier academies and training facilities. It's the place for people with ambitions like yours."
Luliava. Kazuya burned the name into his memory.
Ling Wu threw an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close as they walked. "I want you to reach your dreams, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't leave me too soon."
Kazuya didn't answer. He didn't promise to stay, but he didn't say he was leaving tonight, either. For Ling Wu, that silence was enough to keep her grinning.
They reached the eating house shortly after.
It was a newer addition to the street, the wood still pale, not yet grayed by sun and rain. A fresh sign hung above the door, the words "Golden John" painted in crisp white letters. The windows were spotless, and a small wooden board by the step read "Now Open" in neat letters.
Ling Wu stared at the sign with a look of pure disgust. "Eugh, what kind of name is that? Golden John? Whoever owns this place is absolutely horrible at naming things."
Despite her complaints, the scent of roasting meat wafting from the door made her mouth water.
They stepped inside and ordered.
When the food arrived, Kazuya found himself staring at a plate that held thick slices of roasted meat glistening with juice, dark on the edges and tender in the middle. Beside them sat a mound of mashed roots, pale and creamy, with a pat of butter melting into the surface. A small cup of brown gravy steamed on the side.
Ling Wu on the other hand was served a bowl of fish stew, white chunks of flesh floating in a broth that smelled of fennel and salt. Slices of bread were stacked on a small side plate, meant for tearing and dipping. She inhaled the steam and let out a satisfied hum.
They ate in a focused silence, Kazuya out of a desperate need for fuel, and Ling Wu out of a genuine love for a good meal. Once the plates were cleared and the bill was paid, they headed for the exit.
As they stepped out, two men were walking in. One was a tall man in a dark hood with messy blue hair, the other was a blond man with sharp, bored blue eyes.
Ling Wu stopped dead in her tracks, her head snapping back toward the entrance as the men passed.
Kazuya asked. "What is it?"
Ling Wu remained silent for a long moment, her posture tense. Then, she relaxed. "Nothing."
...
That night, in a damp alleyway, a man leaned against a brick wall for support. His hand was pressed hard against his chest, and blood trailed from his nose to his chin.
It was Kalthor.
Despite his state, he was smiling. A wide grin that looked terrifying in the darkness.
"Hahahaha!" he rasped. "I finally did it. I have to thank that bitch. If she hadn't humiliated me, I wouldn't have pushed myself this far."
He wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, smearing it. "Just wait, Ling Wu. I'll show you what real strength looks like."
He vanished back into the shadows, his laughter echoing off the cold stone.
...
In a different part of the city, in a room lit by a single candle, the blue-haired man sat at a table. He was shuffling a deck of silver playing cards. He flipped the top card over, revealing a surface covered in a shifting and illusionary fog.
The door creaked open. His blond partner walked in looking irritated.
"Euris, you're late," the blue-haired man said.
"Shut up, Nergal. I wanted a drink and couldn't find a decent tavern. It was truly annoying, frustrating, bothersome."
Nergal sighed. "We have supplies to buy tomorrow. Don't oversleep, I won't wake you."
He started to turn away when the card on the table began to tremble, making a sharp crackling sound as the fog began to swirl violently.
"Distant Whisper Deck," Euris said, his annoyance replaced by interest. "I've always found this Curio interesting, being able to receive written messages from across long distances, and they arrive in no time."
Black characters began to form in the fog. As the words settled, the two men leaned in to read:
"Leave Irienard tomorrow morning as soon as the job is done.
The All-Seeing have divined a catastrophe in the upcoming days.
Threat level: Class 4, possibly Class 3."
The message vanished, leaving the card blank once more.
"What kind of rotten luck is this?" Euris kicked a wooden stool in frustration. "We just get here for a mission I hate, and now a Class 4 threat is breathing down our necks? They even said Class 3."
Nergal's fatigued eyes narrowed. He tucked the cards back into his sleeve. "We don't have a choice, we're only Class 5. Against a Class 4 threat, we might barely survive, but Class 3 is far beyond our level. We'd surely die if we faced something like that."
...
Ling Wu was sleeping soundly in her room. In his own room, however, Kazuya remained wide awake.
He sat at a small wooden desk that faced the window. The shutters were thrown wide, allowing a cool and refreshing night breeze to drift inside, ruffling his dark hair gently as it passed. The moonlight spilled across the floor in a silver rectangular patch, but it wasn't enough to read by.
A small lantern sat on the corner of the desk. The single candle inside flickered slightly in the draft, casting dancing shadows against the walls and illuminating the yellowed pages of the book spread out before him.
He had managed to convince Ling Wu to buy him this book. It was a humble volume on the fundamentals of ritual arts. While it certainly wasn't a master's text, it was an invaluable treasure to someone like him who had arrived in this world knowing nothing. It was his foundation.
Kazuya read with a focused intensity. He went over each section, repeating the words under his breath and taking notes on a scrap of parchment over and over again to ensure the knowledge was burned into his memory. He waded through descriptions of various ritual arts until he reached a specific chapter regarding chants and incantations.
As he read the technical requirements for vocal rituals, a sudden realization struck him. He stopped, his quill hovering over the paper.
"The Ascension Ritual," he whispered. "On the islands above... it uses twelve clerics to activate. One of them acts as the head, the Sun Cleric. It relies entirely on specific chants and long incantations."
He leaned back, the wooden chair creaking.
"So the Ascension Ritual is, in essence, just a massive ritual art? It has to be more complicated than the ones in this book, especially since it involves a coordinated group and a process I still can't fully grasp with my current knowledge... but the core is the same."
Kazuya's brow furrowed into a deep frown. A new question surfaced.
"But how do the clerics know about ritual arts? Down here, almost everyone knows about it, but on the islands, it's completely unknown to the public. If the islands are isolated, where did that knowledge come from?"
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, staring out into the dark Irienard sky.
The islands he had called home his entire life now felt more mysterious than ever. In his mind's eye, they were no longer a sanctuary, but a puzzle obscured by thick and dark clouds that he couldn't see through. Their origins felt deep, ancient, and unfathomable.
Finally, he shook his head, physically tossing the idea to the back of his mind. It didn't matter right now. No matter how many mysteries he uncovered, he was still too weak to do anything about them. He wouldn't be able to force a single answer out of the world in his current state.
The stronger he became, the further he could travel, and the easier it would be to peel back those clouds. He had his eyes set on mastering ritual arts, but that would have to wait until he could reach Luliava. For now, his short-term goal was clear: he had to maximize his physical prowess and refine his fighting techniques under Ling Wu.
He stared at his hands in the candlelight. He would not repeat the mistake he made on the islands. Back then, he had focused solely on his Foci, treating his body like nothing more than a vessel to carry his power. He had neglected his physical form, and when his Foci was torn away, he had been left utterly helpless.
Never again.
He understood now that he needed every type of strength he could get his hands on: Ritual arts, physical martial ability, and pure knowledge.
As the candle burned low, Kazuya felt a familiar spark in his chest. It wasn't just a desire for power, it was his innate curiosity.
This world was vast, dangerous, and most importantly, beautiful, and he had a burning desire to see every inch of it.