Some distance away from Cyril, among the trees, flew a beautiful red butterfly.
She struck the tree with fervor, while a mysterious woman in a flowing robe stood nearby and patiently observed.
A terrifying cracking sound came from the trunk as a bunch of leaves fell to the ground.
"You are too fierce in your approach, as if trying to show the tree who's better. It will not listen, as it is only a plant."
"Try again, and calm down this time."
The butterfly twitched her antennae with determination and hovered in front of another tree.
Suddenly she struck again, and a familiar cracking sound came through.
Morpho landed near Selene, her wings drooping lower in shame.
"Do not be discouraged. Mistakes are what we do to get better."
The butterfly flew back up in the air, hovering in front of yet another tree.
The flutter of her wings seemed somehow more urgent.
Selene observed her bright red coloring and narrowed her eyes.
"What's the haste? Why are you so eager? Is it the challenge that concerns you?"
Morpho landed back on the ground and hesitantly nodded her insect head.
"Then don't be. I can guarantee that no matter how long you'll take. Cyril will take longer."
The insect twitched her antennae in surprise.
"Indeed. Your talent is truly staggering, to think insect-kind are like this... I was blind before."
"However, your biggest advantage is you lack his prideful nature."
"And please do not try to imitate it. No matter how well you think of your senior brother, his pride is a flaw that should be eradicated."
The mysterious woman rarely frowned, her golden eyes subtly glancing somewhere else in the forest.
"So unburden your spirit, and you'll find your movements easier."
Morpho kept still, contemplating something.
In a moment she flew up, as if picked up by a random gust of wind, and hovered in front of the tree.
Her insect eyes stared at the trunk with focus, yet also seemed to pass into the distance. Strangely, even the flutter of her wings turned quieter.
With a slight smile, Selene nodded, her golden eyes turning a level brighter.
Suddenly her face turned calm, and she perked her head up, as if focused on something.
"Nothing... It's safe to ignore."
She mumbled and resumed observing the enlightened red butterfly.
...
The sky was starting to darken now.
Close to four hours have passed since Cyril first started to practice.
Currently he was standing in front of a tree, his hand outstretched and eyes closed.
After a moment of stillness, he exhaled some air, his palm quickly striking the tree.
No sound was produced on impact. The attack even seemed gentle, like a light pat.
After a delay, the crown of the tree shook, and a few leaves slowly fell down to the ground.
Cyril raised his head, staring at the falling leaves with a blank gaze.
Finally, at least some results...
He took a deep breath, his heart calm, still as water.
"Congratulations! I knew you could do it!" Or maybe it wasn't.
Rhamn raised her hands in the air and celebrated with excitement.
Cyril waited until she was done before asking.
Can you take me to where Morpho and Selene are? I have a few questions regarding the technique.
He could feel that any further improvements at this stage would come with tremendous effort, and it was already getting dark.
"Sure! Just follow my directions."
Good.
Cyril walked towards the curled-up Tigris, picked him up, and put him on his shoulder.
The white tiger cub briefly woke up, meowed without any worries, and drifted off into slumber.
With that, Cyril finally walked away from this spot, passing many trees on the way.
Strangely, what was previously a rather lush forest scene now appeared as if a tornado had gone through.
The trees around were all in a bad state, missing the majority of their leaves. Some even had their trunks visibly damaged.
Passing by the overgrown statue of the Earth Goddess, Cyril got another whim.
"Sorry for this," he whispered, bowing slightly towards it.
The statue's face, obscured by a hood, remained as unresponsive as ever.
Cyril nodded with satisfaction and followed after Rhamn, who walked ahead with a playful gait.
He frowned at the sight, his mind coming up with certain reasons for her joy.
Should I ask-
...Don't tell me about Morpho. I'll find out for myself.
From his angle, he could see one corner of Rhamn's mouth rise. The sight only worsened his bad feeling.
At this moment, walking through the park at night, his sharp hearing picked up rough voices in the distance. They slowly approached his position.
"-trade-"
-should we wait-"
"-money is enough-"
What he managed to hear made him freeze in his steps.
Cyril glanced in that direction, contemplating.
"This seems interesting! Some shady deal happening nearby? You are a future knight! It's only natural for you to stop it, right?"
Seems reasonable.
Cyril stretched his body and carefully felt the amount of mana he had left.
That's enough.
He changed his course and walked towards the noises, his footsteps calm but determined.
...
In a broken-down, overgrown gazebo, two groups of gentlemen were currently standing in a stalemate.
"Damn it. We were supposed to be done an hour ago. What's this hold-up?"
A relatively young man angrily spun a dagger in his hand. He wore a black leather jacket with a red stripe on his back.
Around him stood other similarly dressed thugs, all sharing the same prideful look in their eyes.
"Have some sense, kid! So what if we're a little late? Better this than getting caught by the guards," replied a middle-aged thug in a grey worker's uniform.
At his feet was a black briefcase. At his side stood others wearing the same grey clothes.
"You are being paranoid! Why do you think there is someone here anyways?"
"...I can feel it. There is something wrong in the air."
"You are basing this on intuition!?"
The young man in a black jacket stepped forward, gripping his dagger with force.
The man in grey kept his face calm and raised an arm to motion him to stop. There was an air of confidence to his actions, as if what he did was common knowledge.
"In this city, intuition is something you have to trust. Many others thought similarly to you before. Unfortunately, they learned this lesson too late."
The young man clenched his teeth, silent for a few seconds.
"Fine. But remember this: Power Society is not some small-time gang that needs to rely on silly intuition. If you still play this song after an hour. We'll take matters in our own hands."
The thugs in leather jackets around all tightened their bodies, as if ready to strike.
The man in grey remained calm and nodded.
At least his face was calm. His back was drenched in sweat, something visible only to his companions.
After a tense few minutes, just as the faces of thugs present were turning even worse, another thug in grey ran out from some bushes nearby.
"Clear, boss!"
"Same here!" Said another, arriving from a different direction at the same time.
"Good! Stay on the lookout, everyone."
The man in grey, with a heavy heart, picked up the briefcase at his legs and walked up to the young man.
"Finally!" With an annoyed face, the thug in a jacket approached.
The briefcase was dropped on the ground in front of him and opened.
However, there was nothing inside.
No one's gaze showed any surprise at the sight.
Very slowly the man in grey cast a spell, its magic circle obscured, and with a puff of smoke a paper bag appeared where there was nothing before.
The young man hastily grabbed the bag and deliberately stood up, looking inside of it with a forced smile.
"Looks good." He said with a stiff voice.
The thug in a leather jacket took a few deliberate steps away, others doing the same, and stopped.
"Ridiculous..." The young man exhaled and returned with eager footsteps.
"See! No one is here! Let's be done with this already."
"It seems that way, alright," replied the man in grey with a frown.
With his eyes going around one last time, he stretched his hand back towards the briefcase and cast another spell.
This time, quietly, a smaller bag appeared.
Just as the young man reached for it with his hands.
"Boss! Someone is here!"
With a ruthless expression, the man in grey closed the briefcase, almost hitting the fingers of the young man, and stood up.
"Shit! Be careful!"
The thug in a jacket cursed with lingering fears and looked at intruder they discovered.
From behind a tree walked out a young man in a typical training uniform. He had blond hair and blue eyes that seemed somewhat cold.
He didn't attempt to hide or run, openly walking over.
"What are you doing here?"
Cyril calmly asked as he scanned the thugs. There was no Tigris on his shoulder.
"It was a bit entertaining to observe them. We could've waited for a little longer."
No.