The morning sun glinted off the polished marble floors of the palace training grounds. Each training dummy stood rigid in its place—until a sharp whoosh of compressed water sliced the first one clean in half.
The wooden torso clattered to the floor before the head even realized it was detached.
Liora stood in the center, posture straight, her eyes half-lidded in focus. In her hands, a silver-forged blade shimmered faintly, its edge dripping with thin streams of condensed water. She didn't swing wildly—her strikes were surgical.
Snap! Another dummy's head was severed. She barely moved her feet.
She didn't even look when she flicked her wrist, sending a pressurized water beam slicing through the next dummy's head and punching a fist-sized hole clean through the stone wall behind it. Dust drifted down from the impact.
From the sidelines, Master Teris crossed his arms, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"You're becoming better," he said, voice calm but edged with approval.
Liora didn't even turn to acknowledge him. "Like I didn't notice," she replied, her tone cool, precise, and utterly confident. She adjusted her stance and resumed cutting through targets, not sparing a single glance his way.
Teris's smile didn't fade—he liked her arrogance. It meant she aimed higher than anyone else.
---
Inside the throne room, the king sat slouched on his high-backed seat, fingers drumming the armrest in irritation. A pair of royal guards knelt before him.
"You have a new order," the king said, his voice heavy and sharp. "Find the escapee. Although from the princess incident he remains nameless in public record, you will know who I mean." His gaze narrowed. "He is a risk. Remove him if needed. And… also locate Master Teris."
The guards bowed. "Understood, Your Majesty."
As they left, the king let out a slow sigh, muttering to himself:
"Liora must understand. Humans and elves don't get along. Why should we—the best of all races—be forced to mingle with those hairy, base creatures? We are superior. No need to befriend them."
---
Back in the training grounds, Liora heard the heavy boots approaching before the guards even entered. She slowed her strikes but didn't put down her blade.
One of the guards spoke to Teris: "We've been ordered to find someone. No names will be given here. The king wishes you to accompany us."
Teris raised a brow. "And how exactly are we meant to track this person?"
"We found traces of mana left when he escaped," the guard replied matter-of-factly. "A rookie mistake—he must be new to his constellation. We can use it to locate him."
Teris gave a short nod. "Fair enough."
Liora couldn't hear all of it from where she stood, but she caught enough. Find him. That was all she needed to know. Her jaw tightened. She didn't like the way the guards were speaking—cold, efficient, ready to hunt.
When Teris followed them out, Liora wiped her blade clean, sheathed it, and vanished into the shadows, following at a distance.
---
The trail led beyond the kingdom walls, winding through the dirt roads and scattered farmland. The guards moved quickly, Teris keeping pace without complaint.
By the time they neared their target, Liora had perched herself high in the thick branches of an oak tree, silent and unseen.
---
Meanwhile, outside the modest countryside home, Lif stood in the front yard with Mary and Jenna. The air was warm, the breeze gentle, and yet the tension was thick.
Mary moved cautiously, circling around Lif with a training blade. Jenna lunged from the front, her hands glowing faintly as she practiced mana enchantment.
Lif parried Jenna's strike with the flat of his blade and sidestepped Mary's approach, all while keeping his tone light.
"Don't rely only on speed, Jenna. Anchor your feet. You're fast but unstable."
Mary tried to copy Jenna's mana flow, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"Easier said than done," she muttered. "This stuff is harder than it looks."
From the porch, their parents watched. The father's arms were crossed, his eyes locked on Lif. He still hadn't decided whether he liked this young man being so close to his daughters. The mother leaned slightly forward, a curious half-smile on her face.
The father's knuckles tightened just a little. Too close… way too close.
Jenna managed a clean strike to Lif's side—but he caught her wrist gently, redirecting the blow into the air.
"Better," he said, smiling faintly. "You're learning."
---
That was when the royal guards appeared at the end of the dirt path. Teris was with them, his robes faintly stirring in the wind.
The family froze for half a second.
The father stepped forward instinctively, calling out:
"What brings the king's men all the way out here?"
One of the guards answered coldly, "We're looking for someone."
Lif's stomach tightened.
The father's eyes flicked to him—quick, sharp, suspicious—before returning to the guards.
"No one here matches any… escapee," he said evenly.
Liora, watching from a high branch not far away, narrowed her eyes. Her gaze locked on Lif. He was standing between the two girls again—too close for her liking.
Another guard stepped forward. "Sir… lying to the king's men is treason. You do know we can kill you for that, yes?" His tone was almost amused.
The father's jaw clenched. "I said—no one here fits your description." His voice cracked slightly on the last word.
One of the guards chuckled darkly. In a flash, he drew his sword and swung it straight for the father's head.
Mary and Jenna barely had time to register what was happening.
The mother gasped—too late to scream.
And then—clang!
Lif was there. His arm blocked the blade, the steel cutting deep into his skin. Blood dripped down to the dirt.
Teris's eyes sharpened. "I guess we found him," he said.
Liora's grip on the branch above tightened until the bark cracked beneath her fingers.