Haru sprinted through the inferno. Smoke choked the air while fire devoured the buildings flanking the road. Screams tore through the chaos, mingling with the metallic clang of steel meeting beastly flesh. His knuckles turned white around his spear shaft. His mind held no other thought but forward motion, the need to help, the drive to protect.

  He veered sharply into a narrow alley between two stone houses and skidded to a halt. At the dead end, a middle-aged woman clutched her young daughter tight against her chest. The child sobbed, burying her face in her mother's bosom, trapped against the unforgiving stone wall. Two monstrosities stood before them, bodies grotesquely twisted, eyes black voids like the abyss itself. They advanced slowly, step by agonizing step.

  "Get away from them!" Haru bellowed, lunging forward.

  The beasts turned, but he was faster. He vaulted between the monsters and the cowering family, landing in a defensive stance. His spear held steady before him. Though his hands trembled slightly from exhaustion, his eyes burned with resolve.

  He spoke to the woman without breaking his gaze from the beasts. "Run. Get out of here. Now."

  His voice was firm. The woman hesitated, eyes darting between Haru and the creatures.

  "Go!" Haru shouted again.

  She grabbed her daughter’s hand and edged along the wall, pressing herself against the stone to bypass the melee. At the alley's mouth, she cast one last look at him. "Thank you..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, before sprinting away into the night.

  The moment they vanished, the beasts struck. The first leaped with a longsword aimed at his head. Haru ducked just in time. The second attacked from the flank, but Haru spun on his heel, slamming the spear shaft into its leg. The creature stumbled to one knee. Haru didn't wait. He turned and bolted for the alley’s exit. He knew he couldn't kill them, but he could hinder them, buy time, and let people escape.

  From that moment, he didn't stop.

  Street after street, alley after alley. He ran for hours through the pandemonium. Here, he distracted a beast to save a group of children. There, he carried a fallen elder to a fleeing group. In a third street, he found a family cornered, charged between them and three monsters, and drove the beasts back with a flurry of strikes until he could scream for the family to run.

  "Thank you, Hero of the Colosseum!" the father cried as he dragged his wife to safety.

  Haru appeared and vanished like a spear-wielding phantom. He killed none, for he didn't know how, but he struck dozens, delayed dozens, and saved everyone he could.

  In a narrow street, he ran out of time to dodge. Claws tore through his shoulder. Pain flared hot and sharp as blood slicked his fingers, but seconds later, a strange warmth washed over him. He looked down to see a soft golden light wrapping the wound. The flesh knit together before his eyes, vanishing completely within ten seconds. Hikari’s healing magic was still active over the city.

  A small smile touched his lips, only to fade. Healing cured wounds, but it wouldn't fix a knife to the heart or a severed head. He couldn't be everywhere. A heavy weight settled in his chest. How many had died while he fought elsewhere?

  He shook his head violently. No. He just had to keep moving. Every life saved was worth the effort. He gripped his spear and ran on.

  People began to recognize him. "It's Haru!" and "The Colosseum Hero!" Voices called out from the shadows. Every time he saved someone, they looked at him with eyes full of gratitude. Some wept as they thanked him.

  As he ran, a sound reached him from the city’s northern edge. The thunder of hooves, dozens of them, pounding against stone. It was getting closer.

  Black warhorses carrying knights in gleaming white and gold armor charged into view. The golden eagle crest spread across their chest plates. The Royal Knights.

  They fanned out with perfect coordination. Swords drawn, lances raised. The first knight to pass Haru decapitated a beast with a single fluid stroke, dissolving it into black smoke. The knight didn't even slow down.

  The tide of battle turned. The monsters were returning after death as Raiden had warned, but the Knights were relentless. Their priority was civilian protection, and wherever a Knight rode, people could escape.

  Haru stood still for a moment. The city wasn't alone anymore. Help had finally arrived. He moved to join the effort, but a pull tugged at him from the East. A strange, dark, powerful energy. Something was happening there. He looked in that direction and made his choice.

  He sprinted East at full speed.

  In the open square among old warehouses at the city's edge, Raiden had arrived. Minutes ago, he had burst from the Colosseum's underground and tracked the vile energy here. His white, sightless eyes sensed every shift in the atmosphere. He had raced through the streets faster than any normal human, decapitating every beast in his path without breaking stride. He was hunting Valdor’s dark signature.

  The area was deserted and quiet, far from the chaos. Four figures stood in the center: Valdor, his black robes billowing in the wind, flanked by the grey-haired man, the old woman, and the pale youth. A fourth figure stood apart, chanting over a glowing green crystal. This was the source of the horde.

  Raiden landed before them, sword in hand. He stood tall, his face a mask of calm.

  "Raiden," Valdor said smoothly. "I knew you'd find me eventually."

  Raiden didn't reply. He lunged.

  The speed was defying logic. In a fraction of a second, he was in front of Valdor, his blade seeking the sorcerer's neck.

  But a massive shadow intercepted him. Metal clashed against metal. Raiden felt a shockwave rattle his arms up to his shoulders. He was thrown back several steps. Standing between him and Valdor was a tall man wielding a spear. His armor was shattered in places, his black hair messy. His eyes were empty voids like the monsters, but the body was human. The stance was perfect.

  Raiden turned his face toward the source. He didn't need eyes to see. He knew that energy signature. The sound of the armor shifting. The rhythm of the breathing and the weight of the steps. Everything about this presence was familiar.

  "Ryuji..." he whispered.

  "Yes. Your former student," Valdor gloated from behind the warrior. "My strongest soldier. Aren't you proud?"

  Raiden ignored the sorcerer. His senses locked onto Ryuji. He could sense the corrupted air currents around him and the dark energy, but deep down, buried far beneath, a faint trace of the original soul remained. The young man he had trained for years. The boy he had considered a son.

  "I'm sorry it came to this, Ryuji," he said, his voice heavy with hidden pain.

  Ryuji didn't reply. He raised his spear.

  "I will free you from this," Raiden said, sinking into his combat stance.

  Valdor and his companions stepped back. The sorcerer wasn't worried. Raiden had used the Void Cutter Strike at the Colosseum hours ago, which meant his energy reserves were critically low. Ryuji would handle him, allowing Valdor to complete the plan. He watched with a cold smile.

  Ryuji moved. A sharp whistle cut the air in a horizontal arc. Raiden intercepted it instantly. The impact sounded like metal hitting bedrock, sending sparks flying. The force rattled Raiden’s bones. Before he could regain his balance, Ryuji attacked again. The spear tip thrust upward, aiming for the ribcage. Raiden leaped back as the cold steel hissed past his face.

  The fight blurred into high speed. But Raiden felt his body growing heavy. His arms ached with every block. His breathing grew ragged. The destructive technique he used earlier had drained him, and he was paying the price now.

  Ryuji pressed the advantage with mechanical precision. His movements were exact, just as Raiden had taught him years ago. The weight distribution, the range between the spear and the Nodachi—none of it confused Raiden’s senses. He knew this rhythm well. He knew how Ryuji shifted his weight before a thrust, knew when he would step back. This opponent executed moves like a memorized lesson. Powerful, but completely transparent. The real Ryuji was tricky, often changing plans mid-fight. This thing simply repeated direct attacks, making defense a matter of mere timing.

  Raiden knew every move. He could hear them before they happened. But knowledge wasn't ability. His exhausted body was betraying him. The displacement of air told him the next strike was coming from the left, but his arms were too slow to block. He heard Ryuji’s foot pivot for a thrust, but his feet were too heavy to dodge in time.

  A powerful blow caught the side of his sword and knocked him back. Raiden stumbled and took a deep breath. A scratch on his side closed quickly thanks to Hikari’s magic, but the fatigue remained. Healing fixed flesh, not exhaustion.

  Ryuji attacked without pause. Without mercy. Without hesitation. Strike after strike. Raiden parried and dodged, but he was slowing down. His reflexes were lagging by a fraction of a second. In a fight of this caliber, a fraction of a second was lethal.

  A heavy blow struck his sword directly, knocking it from his grip. The blade spun through the air and clattered to the ground ten meters away. Raiden stood unarmed. His hand trembled. He reached out with his left hand in a desperate attempt to defend himself.

  Ryuji raised the spear high. The killing blow. Raiden heard the whistle of the weapon slicing the air upward and felt the pressure of death gathering above him. His body couldn't move fast enough. He had no strength left to dodge. The spear began its descent with crushing weight.

  Another spear crashed against Ryuji’s in the final instant, knocking it off course. The strike missed Raiden by centimeters, smashing into the ground and pulverizing the stone.

  Haru stood between them. He was gasping for air, his body shaking with fatigue, but his eyes were fierce. He looked back at Raiden. "Are you okay?"

  Raiden, who had fallen to his knees from exhaustion, nodded slowly. "Yes... thank you."

  Haru turned to face Ryuji. He stared at the face. The familiar features he had seen thousands of times in the Colosseum and during training. Ryuji, the former Champion, the man Haru aspired to be. But the eyes were empty. There was no life.

  Haru closed his eyes for a second, then opened them and whispered, "So this is why... you disappeared."

  Every question he’d held for months was answered. Ryuji hadn't left by choice. He was taken, transformed, enslaved.

  Ryuji raised his spear again. Haru took a deep breath and settled into a fighting stance.

  Ryuji attacked. An upward thrust toward the gut. But Haru moved before the spear arrived. He leaned to the side, letting the weapon pass harmlessly. He knew that strike was coming. He knew it because he had seen it hundreds of times.

  All those hours spent watching Ryuji fight in the Colosseum. All those matches where he memorized every movement. He was fighting his memory of the real Ryuji, and the monster before him was merely a copy repeating the same patterns. No creativity. No surprises. Haru knew everything.

  A strike from the right; he blocked. A thrust from below; he jumped. A spinning slash; he ducked. Not because he was faster or stronger, but because he remembered. He anticipated every blow before it started. And every predicted strike reminded him of the real Ryuji. The Ryuji who smiled after matches. The Ryuji who wiped sweat from his brow and told his opponent, "Good fight." The Ryuji who vanished one day. Now Haru knew why. He blocked the blows, trying not to think about the fact that the body before him once belonged to his hero.

  But survival was not victory. Haru knew when the strikes would land, but he wasn't strong enough to end the fight. Even exhausted from the duel with Raiden, Ryuji hit with immense power. Haru began to press, attacking rather than just defending. A strike to Ryuji’s shoulder landed, but Ryuji didn't flinch. A sweep to the leg made Ryuji stumble, but he recovered instantly.

  Three consecutive blows from Ryuji’s spear hammered against Haru’s. The first stung his hands. The second numbed them. The third shattered the spear in the middle.

  The sound of snapping wood filled the square. Haru was left holding only half a shaft.

  Ryuji raised his spear high again. Haru raised his broken remnant, blocking the blow with everything he had. His arms shook, his feet slid across the stone, but he didn't fall.

  He looked into Ryuji’s empty eyes. "I won't... back down."

  Valdor and his group watched. Valdor’s smile faded. This boy wasn't part of the calculation.

  In the dark alley, Hikari leaned his shoulder against the rough wall, focusing entirely on regulating his breathing and recovering his drained mana. Three meters away, Mirai lay in an uncomfortable heap, perfectly still.

  A faint rustle made him open his eyes. Mirai was standing now. He hadn't seen her rise, but she stood tall, her back to him.

  The shadow she cast on the ground began to warp, stretching with impossible speed. From her back, two black wings unfurled slowly and heavily. These were not the wings of a bird; the skeletal structure was thick and pronounced, the feathers appearing sharp and layered like thin metal plates. The span from tip to tip easily exceeded four meters, suddenly crowding the alley and blotting out what little street light remained.

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  Her fingers elongated visibly, ending in curved black claws several centimeters long. From the sides of her head, two solid black horns curved upward.

  Mirai turned slowly to face him. Her features were rigid. Her jaw seemed tightened by sharp teeth, and her eyes had turned completely black. No whites, no irises, just a matte black surface reflecting no light. She looked toward him, yet her eyes didn't track his movement, as if she were looking through him at something beyond.

  "Mirai?" Hikari whispered her name, taking a cautious step forward, hand raised to calm her.

  The reaction was instant and mechanical. Her right arm swung in a wide, fast arc. She wasn't trying to claw him, merely brushing him aside. But the speed of the limb generated a massive pressure wave. Hikari felt an invisible impact slam into his chest, like a violent gust of wind throwing him backward.

  His back hit the opposite wall hard, and he slid to the ground. She didn't follow him with her gaze. She tilted her head toward the open sky between the buildings and let out a sharp, piercing shriek. The vibration rattled the glass in nearby windows.

  With a single powerful flap of her wings, she kicked up a dust cloud in the alley and launched her body vertically like a projectile. In less than two seconds, she went from standing before him to a distant black dot heading East, before vanishing entirely.

  Hikari remained sitting on the ground, staring at the empty sky. "What... was that?"

  High above the burning roofs, a black streak tore through the night sky. The distance between the alley and the square was erased in a single heartbeat.

  It wasn't a landing. It was an impact.

  A black mass fell from the sky with insane velocity. The moment it touched the ground, a muffled explosion boomed. The stones in the center of the square didn't just crack; they were pulverized into dust that shot out in a circular wave.

  When the dust settled, she was standing there. The massive black wings were semi-folded behind her, blocking half the sky. Glossy black horns protruded from her head. Long claws at the ends of her fingers dripped a dark fluid that wasn't her blood. And most terrifying of all: the empty black eyes that reflected nothing.

  The four villains froze. Shock silenced them.

  "What... is that thing?" the pale youth’s voice came out strangled.

  Valdor stepped back, his magical eyes frantically trying to analyze the entity. No magical energy. No aura of life. Just a massive, compressed mass of raw physical power. "A demon... transformation?" he whispered, trying to find a logical explanation. "Impossible... that size..."

  Mirai didn't wait to hear his analysis.

  It happened in a fraction of a second. No one saw her move. There was no initial step, no crouching to spring. Just a sudden whoosh of vacuum, as if the air had been sucked out of the space she occupied.

  In the next instant, she was standing directly in front of the grey-haired man. He was still opening his mouth to speak. He didn't even realize she was there. Her hand moved. It wasn't a punch, just a casual horizontal swipe of the claws. A wet, tearing sound. The man’s chest opened completely. Four deep, savage lines appeared from shoulder to waist. The body hit the ground before the blood could even flow.

  She didn't stop. The next movement was faster. She vanished again. A violent slipstream hit the old woman standing next to him. Mirai appeared on her right. She didn't use claws this time. She grabbed the woman’s head with her massive palm. A slight squeeze. A loud crack. Then, with a simple flick of her wrist, she tossed the body aside like a torn rag doll. It slammed into a distant warehouse wall and fell motionless.

  The pale youth, watching his comrades annihilated in under two seconds, turned and ran. He screamed in terror, legs pumping furiously. He ran ten meters. He thought he was getting away. But he was running toward his death.

  Mirai appeared directly in his path as if she had been waiting there. The youth skidded to a halt, eyes wide with horror. She raised her hand, claws pointing at him. There was no anger in the movement, only cold efficiency. She thrust her hand forward. The claws punched through his chest with ease, exiting his back slick with blood. She withdrew her hand just as quickly. The youth fell on his face.

  Three seconds. Three dead. Only Valdor remained.

  The master sorcerer was trembling. His mind couldn't comprehend the speed at which his elite fighters had been erased. But his survival instinct was faster than his thoughts. He didn't try to run. He knew that was impossible. He raised both hands high and screamed the strongest defensive spell he knew. Ancient words poured from his mouth, every syllable charged with immense power.

  The air around him vibrated. Layer after layer of transparent blue energy began to stack. Solid magical walls, so dense the ground beneath his feet cracked from the weight of the gathering mana. A massive multi-layered dome formed around him, a barrier that had once withstood entire armies.

  "This barrier is invincible!" Valdor screamed, his voice shaking despite the words, veins bulging in his neck from the effort. "You won't touch me!"

  Mirai turned to him slowly. The empty black eyes stared at the shimmering blue dome with zero interest. She began to walk toward him. Step by step. Each footfall was heavy, leaving deep impressions in the stone. The click-click of her claws was the only sound.

  She reached the edge of the barrier. She stopped. She looked at the energy shimmering before her face. Then, very slowly, she raised her right hand. The long black claws glinted in the blue light.

  She didn't use a counter-spell. She didn't look for a weak point. She struck.

  The first blow wasn't fast, but heavy. Claws collided with the first layer. A horrific screeching sound, like nails on a massive metal chalkboard, filled the square. The magical energy resisted for a moment, then—CRACK. The first layer shattered like a giant pane of glass. Shards of blue energy scattered into the air before evaporating.

  Valdor gasped. "Impossible..."

  Mirai didn't stop. She drew her hand back slightly and struck again. Harder. CRACK. The second layer shattered. A third strike. CRACK. A fourth. CRACK.

  She was dismantling the most complex magic with nothing but muscle fibers. Every hit was brutal, direct, and devoid of technique. She was smashing magic the way a hammer smashes a rock.

  Valdor watched his absolute defense crumble layer by layer. True terror washed over his face. He was no longer a powerful sorcerer; he was just a helpless man facing a force of nature. "Stop... don't..." His legs gave out. He fell to his knees inside what remained of his barrier, looking up in horror.

  One final layer remained. Thin, wavering. Mirai looked at Valdor cowering behind it. She raised both hands this time, clasping them together like a sledgehammer. She brought them down. The final layer exploded. The barrier vanished completely.

  Mirai stood directly over Valdor. Her massive shadow covered him entirely. He looked up at her with tear-filled eyes, hands raised in desperate surrender. "Please... I..."

  She didn't listen. She didn't care. Her hand descended in a blur. Claws sheared through his neck. She separated head from body in one clean, savage stroke. The head rolled away. The body of the great sorcerer collapsed.

  Silence returned to the square. Mirai stood among the corpses, black and red blood dripping from her claws, her chest heaving slowly.

  Then, as if alerted by something, she snapped her head up. She turned toward the far corner of the square. The fourth man. The crystal bearer. He had used her distraction with the barrier to make a desperate run for the exit, panting in terror, the green crystal clutched to his chest.

  Mirai didn't move to chase him. Instead, she extended her massive right wing to its limit. The sharp metallic feathers gleamed under the moonlight. With a single violent motion, she swept her wing forward.

  A sharp current of air, like a giant invisible blade, launched from the wing sweep. It sliced through the air with a terrifying whistle across the square. The running man didn't even hear it coming.

  The air blade hit him from behind. It cleaved his body in two at the waist. The upper half continued to fly forward for a moment before falling. The green crystal flew from his hand, smashed against a large rock, and shattered into a thousand glittering shards.

  The moment the crystal broke, the air of the entire city changed. The dark weight pressing on everyone’s chests evaporated. In every street and alley, the fighting monsters suddenly froze, then began to dissolve into black smoke that faded into the sky.

  In the square, Haru was panting audibly, his grip on the broken spear trembling violently. Before his eyes, Ryuji stopped. It wasn't a natural pause, but a total freeze, as if the strings controlling him had been cut all at once. The spear in his hand, moments away from delivering a death blow, dropped its tip to the ground with a heavy metallic clatter, though his hand remained on the shaft.

  The darkness shrouding his body began to roil. It didn't vanish instantly but started to recede like liquid ink evaporating from his skin. The tension in his facial muscles relaxed with painful slowness. The eyelids that had been pulled tight lowered, then opened again.

  The total blackness in his eyes began to fracture. A small point of light appeared in the center, expanding slowly to chase away the dark. The pale brown irises returned. Ryuji blinked several times, as if waking from a long, heavy nightmare. His pupils moved sluggishly, trying to focus on the figure standing before him.

  "H..." The sound scraped from his throat, rough and dry like stones grinding together. He coughed hard, as if air was entering his lungs for the first time in ages.

  "H... Haru?"

  Haru froze. The eyes looking at him now weren't the eyes of a monster. They were the eyes of his old mentor, filled with terrifying confusion and indescribable exhaustion.

  Ryuji looked down at his hands. Fine cracks were appearing on his skin, like old porcelain on the verge of shattering. From those cracks, no blood flowed, only fine black dust that began to drift away on the wind.

  "My body..." Ryuji whispered, watching his fingertips begin to crumble into grey ash. "It's... over then."

  There was no fear in his voice. Only a quiet, sad acceptance. He raised his head and looked at Haru. Then he looked at the broken spear in Haru’s hand, and at the wounds covering the boy’s body. A very faint smile touched the corner of his cracked mouth.

  "You... held your ground," he said softly, taking a heavy step toward Haru. His right leg left a trail of black ash on the ground with every movement. "I was watching you... from inside. I was screaming to stop... but you didn't stop."

  Haru wanted to run to him, to hold him, but something about Ryuji’s disintegrating form stopped him. He looked so fragile, as if he would collapse at the slightest touch. "Ryuji-san... I..."

  Ryuji interrupted him by raising his hand, or what was left of it. With an effort that looked immense, he lifted his own spear. He didn't raise it to attack, but flipped the grip, extending the handle toward Haru.

  "Take it."

  Haru looked at the spear. The dark wood was polished from use, the metal still gleaming despite the blood. He reached out with a trembling hand and closed his fingers around the shaft.

  The moment Ryuji let go, Haru felt the true weight. It wasn't normal heaviness. The spear almost dragged his arm down. It was twice as heavy as any training spear he had ever held. How had Ryuji wielded this thing with such speed? Haru looked in shock at Ryuji, who nodded slowly.

  "Heavy, isn't it?" Ryuji whispered, his body now eroded up to his chest. "That is the weight of true strength, Haru. Don't carry it if you aren't ready for the price."

  "I'm ready," Haru said, his voice shaking. He tightened his grip on the cold wood until his knuckles turned white. "I'll carry it."

  Ryuji’s smile widened slightly. "Good... very good."

  The wind picked up suddenly in the square. The disintegration accelerated. Ryuji’s legs collapsed into a pile of black ash. His torso began to dissolve into the air. There was no body to bury, no corpse to carry. Ryuji looked directly into Haru’s eyes for the last time.

  "I wish... we could have seen the final match together."

  Those were his last words. His head bowed forward, and with the movement of the air, what remained of him turned into thick black dust, carried away toward the open sky, leaving Haru standing alone.

  No sound. No magical light. Just a small pile of black ash at Haru’s feet, and the incredibly heavy spear in his hands.

  Haru looked at the weapon. The wood still felt warm from Ryuji’s hand. He squeezed it tight, his tears falling silently onto the cold metal.

  **One Week Later**

  A week of mourning and restoration. The Royal Knights remained in the city, aiding in reconstruction and security. Burnt buildings were being repaired, streets cleared of rubble. Shattered stones were removed, and new timber replaced the charred wood. A memorial service was held in the main city square. People stood in long, silent lines before names engraved on a temporary stone tablet. Some cried. Some just stood in silence. The wounds hadn't fully healed, but the city was breathing again. Shops slowly opened their doors. Children returned to the streets. Life was coming back.

  In a small room at the inn, Mirai still lay in bed. She had been in a coma for a full week. Hikari hadn't left the room except when absolutely necessary.

  Then, on the morning of the seventh day, her fingers moved. They twitched. Her eyes began to roam beneath the lids. Then, slowly, they opened.

  She stared at the ceiling. She turned her head. She saw Hikari sitting in the chair beside the bed, head tilted, asleep.

  "Hi... Hikari?" Her voice was rough and weak.

  He opened his eyes instantly. When he saw her eyes open, a wide smile spread across his face. "Mirai! You're awake!"

  "Where am I? What is this place?"

  "An inn room. I brought you here. Are you okay?"

  She tried to sit up. Severe dizziness hit her. Every muscle ached. She sat up slowly, resting her back against the wall. "My head..." she whispered. "How long has it been?"

  "A week," Hikari said. "You've been asleep for a whole week."

  Her eyes went wide. "A week?" She tried to remember. "The last thing I recall... I was underground fighting monsters. Then suddenly I see myself here."

  Hikari looked at her closely. "You don't remember anything?"

  She shook her head. "No. What happened?" She looked at his face. There was something in his gaze. "You're looking at me like you're trying to decide if I'm really me or someone else."

  He took a deep breath. "You were trapped in a dungeon, wounded, and bled out until you passed out. You were rescued and brought to the surface. But..."

  He paused. Mirai waited.

  "You woke up, but you looked different. Horns, your black wings were massive, claws, teeth. You looked completely different."

  For a moment, Mirai didn't move. She stared at him. Then her eyes went wide with total shock. In a sudden movement, she grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him close until his face was centimeters from hers.

  "Really?!!" she screamed. Her voice was full of shock mixed with something Hikari couldn't identify.

  Her expression was strange. Clear shock, but with it, something else. Excitement.

  She tightened her grip. "Hikari, answer me! Did I look exactly as you described? Very long nails, horns, and bigger wings?"

  "Yes. Exactly that."

  She let go of his collar and sat back, hands over her mouth. A distinct sparkle lit up her eyes.

  "Sorry. I got excited." She looked at her hands, then her legs. "No wonder my body is so exhausted."

  "What is it, Mirai?"

  She turned to him with a wide, genuine smile. "That was my mother’s bloodline ability. Not magic. Pure physical ability. Something hereditary."

  She paused to take a breath. "A transformation that multiplies strength and speed many times over. But I've never been able to transform in my life. This is the first time. I tried so much before, but nothing happened." She looked at her hands again. "I'm not sure why. But the important thing is, it's not impossible."

  She looked at him seriously. "Hikari, this transformation is the ultimate ability of my lineage. A real trump card in any fight."

  She stood up slowly. Her body was heavy and her legs shook, but she managed. She walked to him and put her hands on his shoulders.

  "That ability must be mastered at any cost," she said in a low, firm voice.

  Hikari smiled and placed his hands over hers. "Alright. We'll train and master this ability together."

  She smiled, then moved toward the door. "Let's move. We stayed here way too long because of me. But it was worth it. I won't stay another hour. We have the armor mission in that desert, and we have training to do. So let's go."

  She looked at him with a serious expression mixed with a grin. "And if you refuse, I'll bring out my wings, grab you by force, and fly you there."

  Hikari sighed with a smile. "Okay, okay. Let's go."

  The same day, inside the Colosseum.

  After a week of mourning, the city administration decided to hold the Colosseum matches again. Not a celebration. No one was in the mood to celebrate. But people needed something to hold onto. Something to remind them that life goes on, that the city hadn't died. And when it was announced that Haru, the boy who protected people alone that night, would fight in the first match, people flocked by the thousands. The stands were full for the first time since the attack.

  In one of the rooms beneath the arena, Haru stood before a small mirror. In his hand was Ryuji’s spear. Long, longer than his old one, and heavier. The shaft was dark solid wood, the tip gleaming sharp metal. A perfect spear.

  Behind him, Saki stood near the door, arms crossed. She watched him with concern.

  "So? Are you ready?"

  He turned to her. He looked at the spear, then at her. He smiled.

  "Yes. I don't know what will happen, whether I'm strong or weak." He looked directly into her eyes. "Saki, today will be my first real fight. The first fight where I don't know the result beforehand."

  A wider smile appeared on his face. "And whether I win or lose, I'm buying you cherry cake. Be ready."

  She blushed slightly, but smiled. "You... you idiot."

  He laughed a short laugh, then pushed the door open. Bright light exploded before him. He walked through the stone tunnel. With every step, the noise grew louder. He stepped out into the arena.

  The sun was bright. The sand was warm. The crowd filled the stands. And when they saw him, the cheers erupted.

  "Haru! Haru! Haru!"

  News of what he did that night had spread. How he protected people for hours alone before the Knights arrived. Some people held banners with his name.

  He raised his hand and waved to the crowd. He walked to the center of the arena and raised Ryuji’s spear high. The sun reflected off the gleaming metal.

  He looked at the opposing gate. He didn't know who his opponent would be. He didn't know if they were strong or weak. But he was ready.

  He lowered the spear and settled into his stance. A confident smile was on his face.

  (End of Arc)