High in the towering mountains, just before the sun breached the horizon, Mirai stood on a narrow ledge. A few steps in any direction would send her plummeting into the abyss. She gripped her sword, four metallic spheres hovering around her. Taking a calm breath, she said, "Hikari, I'm ready."

  Hikari, standing on safer, lower ground, watched her with a wary expression. "Are you sure about this? It seems… reckless."

  Mirai nodded. "I am. I've never had any training that actually put my life on the line. When I trained with your father, I was taking it easy. It was safe. I knew nothing would go wrong, and I had plenty of space. But now…"

  She paused, glancing at the precarious footing. "Now is different. Training in such a tight space will be more effective. I want to train as if my life depends on it. Don't use your barrier on me. If I make a mistake and fall, there’s a forty-percent chance I’ll die. And I’ll definitely suffer major fractures…" She finished with a confident smile. "I'll be counting on you to heal me."

  Hikari threw up his hands. "Whoa, hold on. This is genuinely dangerous. Maybe we should—" He stopped when he saw the iron resolve in her eyes. Despite his hesitation, her determination made him respect her wish. He sighed. "Alright, then. Just… please don't die."

  Mirai raised the four metallic spheres. Calmly, she tossed one in each cardinal direction: north, south, east, and west.

  A second passed.

  Then they shot back, homing in on her from all sides with incredible, lethal speed. They came without pause, relentless.

  Mirai didn’t flinch. She didn’t flee.

  With her sword, she began to deflect the spheres, parrying their trajectories, redirecting their momentum. Sparks flew, and the air whistled around her. The ledge offered no room for full movements, only a half-step here, a slight pivot there. Everything was calculated. A single blink could cost her everything.

  Twenty seconds passed.

  Then thirty.

  At the thirty-fifth second…

  A sphere came from above, a sudden, unexpected vector. She was busy deflecting another one low, and didn’t see it until the last moment.

  It slammed violently into her right shoulder.

  Mirai cried out, her balance completely shattered. Her body pitched over the edge, and she fell.

  The wind tore at her scream. The jagged rocks blurred past her like savage thorns. She felt her ribs crack as she collided with a lower rock face, then she tumbled until her broken body came to a rest among the stones.

  The pain. It was sharp. Unbearable.

  Broken ribs, a bleeding hand, a knee that wouldn't respond.

  Her ragged breaths began to slow. Her wide eyes started to focus. Something inside her had awakened.

  From the heart of the pain, from amidst the dust, dark wings erupted from her back. They were black, powerful, and pulsed with a dormant energy.

  She pushed her battered body up. Her limbs were still bleeding, but her eyes were filled with resolve.

  She flew upward, struggling, the wind tearing around her as she ascended until she reached Hikari, who was waiting on the lower cliff.

  He rushed to her, gripping her injured shoulder and placing his other hand on her chest.

  "Easy… Let my energy work."

  His hands glowed with a golden light, and warmth flowed through her veins. Bones began to mend, wounds to seal.

  After a moment of silence, she spoke, her voice quiet but firm. "I'm going again."

  Hikari looked at her, his expression worried. "You're insane."

  She smiled, tightening her grip on her sword. "Maybe. But I'll never get better if I don't fail like this."

  She moved past him, repositioning herself on the narrow precipice and setting the spheres around her once more.

  And so Mirai trained for the rest of the day.

  Spheres returned, a sword moved, a body fell. Then she would rise. And try again. Then fall again.

  The injuries mounted, the pain multiplied, but she never stopped.

  She didn't succeed. Not even once. But she continued until darkness fell.

  They left the mountain in silence, walking until they reached the city of Arnel, where they had arrived two days prior. The night had settled over its quiet streets, the dim lights reflecting off the cobblestones.

  Breaking the silence, Hikari spoke in a low voice. "You know, I didn't expect you to train that hard. Your frustration must be overwhelming."

  Mirai nodded slowly. "Yeah. That feeling… I can't shake it. Since I was a kid, I've never gone into a fight without being certain I'd win, or at least survive. I never imagined I could be defeated or killed." She paused, taking a steadying breath. "That's why I have to train harder. At the very least, I need to improve my speed and reflexes."

  Hikari stroked his chin thoughtfully. "If we had fought Gerald seriously, I could have protected you with my barrier and you would have beaten him."

  Mirai shook her head. "If it had been a serious fight, Gerald would have targeted you the moment he realized you were protecting me. You wouldn't have stood a chance, and I wouldn't have been able to protect you."

  Hikari considered this. "I've tried to increase my speed, but it's useless. I need something to protect me from at least a single killing blow. I've been thinking about it since your fight with Iris. You can't fight and protect me at the same time. If we get surrounded, it's over."

  Mirai listened intently. "I had an idea before," she said, staring ahead. "As long as you have a barrier on me, I could throw myself in front of attacks to shield you. But that won't work if we're attacked from all sides at once. So…"

  She trailed off, her eyes widening as a thought struck her. She looked at Hikari with a burst of excitement. "An Artifact! That's what you need!"

  Hikari stopped, a look of surprise on his face as Mirai stood before him, animated. "An Artifact is the solution! A sword and a piece of armor. If you had both, our fights would be so much easier."

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  He closed his eyes, thinking. "I never considered it. But Artifacts are terrifyingly expensive. Even some nobles can't afford them. And they aren't sold in shops. Our only choice is to find them ourselves."

  Mirai nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! That'll be way more fun. Maybe we'll find something that hasn't been discovered yet."

  "Alright, then," Hikari said. "That's our new mission. We hunt for an Artifact."

  Mirai's excitement grew as she imagined the possibilities. Then another thought occurred to her. "Hikari, remember those people who attacked us? The ones with all the Artifacts. That sword that used fire and ice—it would be perfect for you. It has both offensive and defensive abilities."

  Hikari mulled it over. "That would be a good fit. A sword like that doesn't need magical or spiritual energy; it's self-powered and recharged with mana crystals. But where would we even find them?"

  Mirai answered with a confident smirk. "They'll be back. They want the sword. They won't leave us alone."

  Hikari nodded. "Okay. Then we stay ready for a fight at any time."

  ***

  Mirai continued her training on the mountain for days. She managed to improve slightly, but she never once succeeded in deflecting all the spheres without being hit. Her injuries grew worse. She didn't give up, but every failure brought a wave of internal frustration, not satisfaction. She used the pain to push the feeling away. A sense of hopelessness began to creep in. Failure after failure. For days, she kept at it, with no complete success.

  Hikari watched her the entire time but couldn't bring himself to speak. Mirai's gaze was too intense, too unwilling to surrender.

  One night, as they were walking back, her discouragement was palpable. She moved slowly, her eyes fixed on the ground, her mind racing. How do I get stronger? It was all she could think about.

  Hikari noticed everything—her expression, her posture, the very rhythm of her breathing. He thought of a way to help. As soon as they reached the city, he turned to her. "Mirai…"

  She looked up.

  "What do you say we go to the Guild tomorrow?" he said gently. "We haven't taken a quest since we beat the Wyvern."

  She looked away. "I don't know…" she hesitated, then relented. "Alright, fine. Maybe some time away from training will help me figure out what I'm doing wrong."

  They returned to the inn and went to their separate rooms.

  **The Next Morning – Adventurers' Guild**

  The Guild was as crowded as ever, filled with adventurers planning their next jobs. Hikari and Mirai approached the quest board. Mirai showed no interest, staring blankly at the parchment notices.

  "Just pick something quickly," she said with a yawn.

  Hikari scanned the board. "I don't think hunting or gathering quests are going to interest you…" He paused, his eyes landing on an escort quest. "Look. This one's perfect. Escort a dwarven merchant's caravan. The destination is the Kingdom of the Dwarves."

  Mirai sighed. "Whatever. Just take any—" She stopped. A realization hit her, and her eyes lit up with excitement. "Yes! Let's take it. The Dwarven Kingdom means powerful magic items. Swords, armor. We'll find something for you there!"

  Hikari was surprised by her sudden shift from utter boredom to intense enthusiasm. Relieved, he smiled. "Alright, then. Let's accept the request."

  ***

  On the day of the journey, they met the dwarf, whose name was Thorin. After introductions, they climbed aboard the wagon and set off. The first few hours passed in comfortable silence.

  The road was steady, the wagon rocking gently over the gravel. Distant mountains tiered the horizon, and a cool breeze carried the scent of the forest. Hikari sat up front with Thorin, who held the reins, while Mirai sat in the back, arms crossed, gazing silently at the vast sky.

  After a few minutes, she leaned forward. "Thorin," she asked, her tone casual, "are there dwarves in the kingdom who sell rare weapons? Or powerful armor? I mean… things you can't find in a normal shop."

  Thorin chuckled, his eyes fixed on the road. "Hah, another adventurer chasing shiny dreams?" He tilted his head slightly, giving Mirai a friendly glance. "Aye, of course. Our kingdom is full of master craftsmen, especially in the magic smithing district. You'll find smiths who forge swords that can cleave stone and armor that resists spells. Some are even infused with rare soul stones."

  His eyes gleamed with pride. "But the prices?" He let out a short laugh. "Oh, the prices will make you reconsider your career choice! Some pieces cost as much as a castle, especially if they're made from rare metals or enchanted by generations of runesmiths."

  A faint, eager smile touched Mirai's lips.

  "But," Thorin continued, pulling the reins to navigate a tight turn, "if you're lucky, you might find a small shop owned by some old smith who hates dealing with nobles. They sell at a reasonable price… sometimes."

  Mirai nodded. "Thanks for the information. Sounds like I have a long tour ahead of me."

  "You'll see for yourself," Thorin said proudly. "Whatever it is you're looking for, a dwarf can make it…"

  Suddenly, an arrow flew.

  It was fast, precise, aimed straight for the neck of the left horse.

  But what happened next was unexpected.

  Before it reached its target, the arrow stopped dead in mid-air as if it had hit an invisible wall. It shattered into wooden splinters that fell harmlessly to the ground.

  Thorin gasped, yanking the reins and staring at the empty space before him. "What in the…?" he whispered. Then he shouted, "Ambush!"

  Mirai, who had been sitting in the back, vaulted from the wagon. Her sword was in her hand before her feet touched the ground. She shot toward the source of the arrow, her steps silent, a blur of motion cutting through the air.

  From behind the trees, three masked men emerged, but they barely had time to move.

  Seconds later, the first fell with a sword buried in his chest. The second was cut down cleanly from behind. The third tried to run, but Mirai appeared before him in a flash and split him in two.

  Silence returned to the forest.

  Hikari remained where he was, watching calmly, his hand resting on his knee. He hadn't said a word.

  Mirai walked back, wiping her blade on a small cloth, her face betraying no emotion.

  Thorin, however, was still staring at the spot where the arrow had disintegrated. He looked at the horse, which should have been dead moments ago but was completely unscathed.

  "It should have been killed," he muttered. "The arrow was a direct hit… but something stopped it. Not armor… and not luck."

  He looked at Hikari, who simply met his gaze without offering an explanation.

  Thorin was quiet for a moment, then he settled back into his seat. "...Well. Seems I picked the right escorts."

  He said nothing more. He didn't ask.

  But his glance—from the horse, to Hikari—was filled with suspicion, admiration… and perhaps a little fear.

  The wagon started moving again, this time with a more confident, yet more cautious, pace.

  As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of deep orange, the wagon slowed. Thorin reached for a small map beside him. "We'll make camp here for the night."

  He stopped the horses in a flat, dry area sheltered by trees. They all disembarked and began setting up. Mirai started a fire while Hikari secured the tent pegs. Thorin pulled out a small pot and some provisions and began making stew.

  The sounds of nature surrounded them—the quiet crackle of the fire and the whisper of the wind through the branches.

  That night was the first of many like it.

  Every evening, they would stop, light a fire, and prepare a meal. Mirai would take watch after dinner, Hikari would sometimes stay awake staring at the sky, and Thorin would turn in early, clutching his provision sack.

  The journey was long but surprisingly safe. Hikari's magic barrier was enough to repel any sudden attack, and Mirai dealt swiftly with any threat, be it bandits or wild beasts, with little effort. Thorin seemed relaxed the whole time. He didn't ask many questions, but he understood the protection he had was anything but ordinary.

  Each night they would rest, eat, and exchange a few words. Then sleep. In the morning, the wagon would set off anew.

  With each passing day, the mountains grew closer, the road to the kingdom narrowing.

  "We're close," Thorin said, pointing with his staff at the distant mountain range. "Just beyond those peaks lie the gates of the Dwarven Kingdom."

  The horses picked up their pace, as if sensing their destination. Everything was quiet… an unsettling quiet.

  A short while later, the features of the kingdom began to emerge from behind the trees—stone towers, high walls, and the famous tunnel entrances carved into the mountainside. But it wasn't as Thorin had described it.

  The first thing they noticed was the smoke.

  Thick. Black. It poured from ventilation shafts in the mountains and rose from between distant buildings.

  Then the picture became clearer.

  The kingdom wasn't standing… it was burning.

  The walls were partially demolished. Guard towers had collapsed. One of the main tunnels was buried under a rockslide. Fires blazed in scattered locations, their smoke choking the sky.

  Thorin stopped breathing for a second. "Impossible…" he whispered, his face a mask of shock.

  The wagon finally stopped at the first clear view of the devastation. The wind carried the smell of ash… and something else.

  The smell of blood.

  Mirai stared at the scene without a word, while Hikari looked on, horrified.

  Then, in a heavy silence, the three of them climbed down from the wagon… and gazed upon the kingdom that was supposed to be the heart of craft and magic.

  Now, it was only ruins.

  (To be continued)