Selena nodded, swallowing her fear. She looked at the glowing demon cores and then at Kael, realizing the sheer responsibility he bore—not just the physical fights, but the knowledge of how dangerous these items were.
She whispered softly, "I'll learn… I'll be strong too… someday."
Kael's gaze flicked up, meeting hers. "That's the spirit. Just don't rush. Strength isn't just about power—it's about control, patience, and understanding what you hold in your hands."
Selena nodded again, this time more determined. "I understand."
Kael exhaled sharply, finishing the last step in patching his wound.
The narrow corner shop smelled faintly of dust, old wood, and iron from tools long forgotten.
Blood had stopped flowing for now, but the wound was deep, and the pain throbbed steadily.
Selena knelt beside him. "Kael… are you sure you can do this by yourself? You should let me help…"
Kael shook his head, his jaw tight. "No. This… I need to handle myself. You just… stay close."
