Nearly a month had passed since the day Chibaki first managed to cover his hand with a bluish aura. Since then, his days had followed the same routine: waking at dawn, meditating to find his core, then spending long hours trying to maintain his energy.
At first, he could only hold it for a few seconds before exhausting himself. But as the days went by, those seconds turned into minutes… and soon, he was able to keep his Myuki active for over an hour without interruption.
His hands still trembled at times, his breathing would falter—but his progress was undeniable.
Genshiro, always seated at a distance, observed without a word, offering only the occasional nod or sharp correction. Each evening, Chibaki collapsed from exhaustion… yet every morning, he returned to the mat, determined to go further.
That morning, Genshiro finally broke the silence.
— "Good. You've held on for a month without faltering. Your foundations are now solid enough."
Chibaki lifted his head, his eyes shining with excitement.
— "Does that mean… we're moving on to the next step?"
A faint smile crossed the master's lips.
— "Exactly. You've learned how to concentrate your Myuki in a single part of your body. Now… you will expand it."
— "Expand it…?" Chibaki repeated, intrigued.
Genshiro crossed his arms, his deep voice echoing like a lesson carved in stone.
— "Myuki is not just a light you observe. It is a force that can strengthen your entire body. Your muscles, your bones, your skin… your breath. This is the foundation of all combat: physical reinforcement. Without it, no matter what techniques you learn, you will fall before you even strike."
Chibaki clenched his fists, his heart pounding. For the first time, he felt like he was crossing a threshold.
Genshiro's dark gaze locked onto his.
— "Good. Now, I want you to spread your Myuki throughout your entire body. Not just your hand or your arm… but everywhere at once. If you succeed, you will have taken the first step toward reinforcement."
Chibaki took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and visualized his Myuki core, glowing near his heart.
Slowly, he guided the light through his pathways, letting it spread in all directions at once.
His legs tingled. His chest warmed. His arms trembled…
And finally, his entire body was covered in a faint bluish glow.
He opened his eyes, short of breath.
— "I… I did it!"
A subtle smile appeared on Genshiro's face.
— "Not bad. Your efforts over this past month have paid off. You can now circulate your Myuki throughout your entire body."
Then his expression hardened.
— "But that's only half the journey. In combat, it's not enough to let it flow—you must transform it. Visualize your Myuki as a second skin… an invisible cloak, harder than steel, wrapping around your body."
Chibaki nodded and tried immediately.
But the moment he attempted to solidify the energy, it scattered like sand between his fingers. The more he forced it… the more control he lost.
Days passed.
Every morning, he tried again and again. Six times. Ten times. Twenty times a day.
Always the same failure.
His arms burned. His legs trembled. Frustration tightened in his chest.
It was only on the seventh day that, for the first time, he succeeded in condensing that energy around his right hand.
His fingers, now surrounded by a denser, darker aura, clenched into a firm fist.
He let out a nervous laugh.
— "I… I did it! Finally!"
— "Good," Genshiro replied, expressionless. "But this is only the beginning. You've reinforced one hand. Now you must learn to reinforce your arm. Then the other. Then both at once. After that—your torso, your legs… until your entire body becomes that invisible armor."
The following days, his progress was slow… but steady.
First his right hand, then his entire arm. Then his left hand, then both arms together.
After relentless effort, he managed to extend the reinforcement to his torso… and eventually combine it all.
His legs were the last to yield to his will.
Each step cost him sweat and exhaustion… but each victory brought a radiant smile to his face.
Two weeks had passed since the start of his reinforcement training.
During that time, Chibaki had sweated, fallen, and started over countless times.
But through sheer perseverance, he had finally managed to cover his entire body with Myuki.
His skin shimmered with a bluish glow, as if an invisible armor protected him.
That day, Genshiro judged his progress sufficient.
To mark the occasion, he had an unusual idea.
— "Tonight, we're going out. Not to train… but to celebrate your progress."
Chibaki's eyes widened.
— "Celebrate…? Are you serious, Master?"
A faint smile appeared on the warrior's lips.
— "I never joke. Your mother and father will join us."
That evening, they gathered in front of a lively inn in the village. Warm light spilled from the windows, and the smell of bread and stew drifted into the street.
Excited, Chibaki tugged at his master's sleeve, urging him inside.
At the table, dishes kept coming, and the atmosphere was cheerful. Chibaki's father laughed heartily, while his mother kept serving him generous portions despite his protests.
Genshiro, true to himself, remained mostly silent—but his gaze was not as stern as usual.
When the drinks were served, Genshiro raised his glass.
— "To Chibaki. For his efforts, his perseverance… and his first victory over himself."
His parents raised their glasses as well, smiling proudly.
— "To you, my son," his father added.
— "You make us proud every day," his mother said softly, her eyes shining.
Blushing, Chibaki lowered his head.
— "Thank you… thank you all. But I wouldn't have done anything without you, Master. Without your teachings, I'd still be unable to control even the smallest trace of Myuki."
Then, innocently, he added:
— "And… thanks to him, I also learned about the Lacroma War."
Silence fell instantly.
His father slowly set his glass down, his eyes darkening. His mother frowned, and both of them turned toward Genshiro at the same time.
— "The war…?" his father said, his voice cold.
— "You told him about it?" his mother added, her tone sharp.
Caught off guard, Genshiro blinked.
— "…Yes. He needed to understand the world he lives in."
But his parents stood up almost immediately, their gazes hard.
— "It's not your place to tell him that!" his father snapped. "You have no idea what we went through!"
— "That war took everything from us," his mother added, her voice trembling with anger. "Friends… family… We've suffered enough. We don't want Chibaki to carry that burden!"
The boy froze in his seat, not daring to move. He didn't understand why his parents looked so hurt.
— "That past should stay where it belongs," his father concluded. "We choose to forget. And you—stranger or not—had no right to reopen that wound."
The air around the table grew heavy.
Finally, his parents stood up, deciding to leave early. Before walking out, his mother placed a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder.
— "Go home with your master. We'll talk later."
They disappeared into the night, leaving Chibaki and Genshiro alone at the table.
The silence stretched.
Genshiro stared at his glass, visibly troubled. Then he finally turned to his student.
— "…I'm sorry, Chibaki. I didn't realize… their pain was still that deep."
He kept apologizing, until they eventually decided to head home, their hearts heavier than expected.
The rest of the meal had lost all its flavor.
Back home, Chibaki went up to his room, still shaken by everything he had seen and heard.
Lying on his bed, he closed his eyes… but his parents' voices echoed through the floor.
They had started arguing again with Genshiro—still about the war.
The boy remained still, his chest tight, listening to the raised voices he couldn't fully understand.
Slowly, exhaustion took over.
He fell asleep… to the sound of their muffled cries.
And a new day began.