The following morning, the manor lay unusually silent. A strange tension drifted through the corridors, carried by whispers too soft to echo. Servants moved with careful steps, their conversations hushed, their eyes often flicking toward the training grounds as if afraid that even the air might repeat Ryouma's name too loudly.
What had begun as a private spar between a lady and a child had already turned into legend. The tale spread from merchants on the roadside to knights in their barracks, to nobles gathered in their polished halls.
"Seven years old, they say…...and he forced Lady Sayaka to draw her Ki."
"A monster in the body of a boy."
"Or perhaps...… a savior, destined for something greater."
The words wove through Tenshogai like wildfire_some spoken with awe, others with envy, and a few with quiet dread.
Within Lady Reina's manor, the rhythmic sound of wood striking wood broke the morning calm.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Each blow landed sharper than the last.
Renjiro stood in the center of the courtyard, sweat dripping down his chin as his wooden sword bit into the post again and again. His breathing was ragged, yet his eyes held a steady, simmering determination.
"Seven years old….." he muttered under his breath, the words tasting bitter. "And he made Lady Sayaka use Ki? If they call him a prodigy_then I'll surpass him. I swear it."
High above, from the balcony draped with silken curtains, Lady Reina observed her son in silence. The faintest smile curved her lips_not of warmth, but of satisfaction.
"So...… the seeds of rivalry have begun to grow."
Her tone was calm, yet her gaze gleamed with ambition.
"Good. My son will not be left behind."
Far away, in the royal palace, the faint glow of torches painted a dim light across the war room's stone walls.
Lord Hanzou stood before a vast table, its surface covered with maps of the kingdom_cities marked with sigils, forests dotted with reports of monster sightings.
Before him knelt two knights, clad in steel, their helmets tucked beneath their arms.
"Ryouma...…" Lord Hanzou said the name slowly, each syllable heavy with thought.
"A child who can force Lady Sayaka to draw Ki cannot remain in obscurity. Keep an eye on him. If his strength continues to grow, we must know whether it serves the crown..… or not."
"Yes, my lord," the knights answered in unison, bowing deeply before retreating into the torchlight's fade.
For a long moment, Lord Hanzou remained still, his gaze fixed on the map. His lips curled into a faint, knowing smile.
"Let's see what kind of beast this child becomes."
Back in Lady Akane's manor, unaware of the waves rippling across the land, Ryouma had already returned to his usual discipline.
At dawn, he sat cross-legged beneath the pale sky, the quiet hum of mana flowing through his veins like a tranquil current. His breathing was even, his expression calm_focused only on the next step, the next form, the next strike.
When the morning light filtered into the courtyard, he rose and began his drills.
Each swing of his wooden sword cut through the air with controlled precision. Sweat rolled down his arms, but his movements never faltered.
He knew nothing of the nobles whispering his name, nor of the knights dispatched to watch him.
For him, there was only the rhythm of breath and blade.
Yet far beyond the manor walls, destiny was already moving its unseen pieces_
and Ryouma, unknowingly, had just become one of them.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months.
The manor slowly found its rhythm again, though a quiet tension lingered beneath the calm. What had once been mere gossip_the duel between Lady Sayaka and young Ryouma_had grown into a whispered legend among soldiers and nobles alike.
Each retelling made the boy sound more mythical, but for Ryouma himself, those stories meant nothing. His world was smaller, simpler_defined only by the sound of his own breathing and the weight of his sword.
The morning sun bled gold across the training grounds. The rhythmic clash of wooden blades echoed in steady intervals, each strike followed by the sharp exhale of a young boy.
Ryouma stood at the center, posture straight, movements precise. The childish roundness of his face had begun to fade, replaced by quiet focus and an unyielding gaze. Every swing he made carried purpose, not pride.
Ever since his duel with Lady Sayaka, he had come to a single, burning realization_he was still far from strong enough. Every mistake, every flaw she'd exposed, had been carved into his memory like a scar he refused to forget.
Now, he trained to erase them all.
From the shade of a nearby tree, Toshi observed silently. The old soldier's eyes narrowed with quiet satisfaction.
"You've changed, young master," he said at last. "Before, your strikes were all instinct. Now...… every swing has meaning."
Ryouma didn't stop. Sweat trickled down his chin as he replied, "She countered me too easily. My control was scattered. My Ki_" he exhaled sharply, striking again "_should have flowed like a single river, not spilled like rain."
Toshi nodded. "Strength means nothing if your energy leaks with every breath. Shape it. Guide it. Own it."
The boy inhaled deeply, eyes closing for just a moment. When he moved again, the air shimmered faintly_thin trails of red light began to coil around his arms and legs, the telltale glow of synchronized Ki. His next step cracked the dirt beneath his feet, the pressure of his presence rippling outward.
Toshi's grin widened. "Better. Your flow's cleaner than before."
"Not enough," Ryouma muttered, his tone calm yet fierce. "I can still feel the leak inside my core. My Mana and Ki_they need to move as one."
These were not empty words.
Every morning before sunrise, Ryouma meditated in silence, circulating energy through his meridians. Every night, when the manor slept, he refined his breathing until his body trembled from exhaustion. Slowly, painfully, his Mana thickened, his Ki grew sharper, and the boundary between the two began to blur.
Even the soldiers who watched him felt the shift.
"Look at that boy," one whispered, tightening his grip on his sword.
"He's younger than my own brother….. and already stronger than our captain."
"If we trained like him_really trained_maybe we could change too."
One by one, they began rising earlier, meditating before drills, pushing beyond comfort. What began as admiration turned into shared resolve. The air around the manor itself seemed to change.
And when Ryouma noticed their effort, he didn't turn away.
He guided them.
"Don't force your strength," he said, moving among them. "Control your breathing first. Feel the current inside you. Ki isn't something you wield_it's something you understand."
Many struggled, some failed_but a few began to feel it. A faint warmth in their palms, a tingling beneath the skin_the first whisper of Ki.
Watching them, Ryouma allowed himself a small smile.
"Everyone can grow stronger," he murmured, "if they learn how their energy truly moves."
Under the guidance of a boy barely seven years old, Lady Akane's manor changed.
It was no longer just a noble's household_it had become a forge.
A place where discipline was worshipped, strength was earned, and the will to grow burned brighter than fear itself.
The morning mist clung low to the earth, veiling the manor grounds in a soft silver haze. Beneath the lone cherry tree, Ryouma sat cross-legged, his back straight, his hands resting calmly on his knees. Dew shimmered on the grass like scattered stars, and the faint breath of wind brushed gently against his face.
His breathing was slow and steady _ the rhythm of a boy who had mastered silence.
Behind him, Toshi stood with his arms folded, eyes sharp as a blade. He watched every subtle twitch, every controlled inhale, every ripple of Ki that danced beneath Ryouma's skin.
"Remember," Toshi said quietly, his voice calm but firm, "don't force your Ki or Mana. Guide them. Let them find balance on their own."
Ryouma gave a small nod and closed his eyes.
Inside him, two tides began to stir _ the fiery warmth of Ki rising from his core, and the cool, tranquil pulse of Mana flowing from his spirit.
At first, they clashed _heat against calm, strength against serenity.
But under the discipline of his breath, the chaos began to ease. Slowly, the two energies twisted together, weaving into a single, spiraling current.
A faint glow emerged from Ryouma's body.
Toshi's brows furrowed.
The aura pulsing around the boy shimmered a deep crimson, burning like blood and flame.
"Red...…?" he muttered under his breath. "That's.....unexpected."
The ground began to quiver faintly as the aura thickened. The Ki and Mana were merging _ but something else, something deeper, began to stir from within.
Then, without warning, a surge of power tore through his body.
The meridians in his flesh _ the dormant Qi pathways he was since birth suddenly ignited.
Toshi's eyes widened. "Wait _! That current..…!" His voice cracked, betraying a rare flash of panic. "Qi!? But that shouldn't even be possible_ !"
Before he could finish, the three energies collided _ Ki, Mana, and Qi _ fusing violently at the center of Ryouma's chest.
The crimson aura flickered wildly, pulsing brighter and brighter until, for a single heartbeat, it turned completely black.
From that darkness bloomed a faint, haunting glow _ a deep violet flame, swirling like a star born in shadow.
The air itself seemed to tremble. Grass bent flat, the mist recoiled, and even the birds fell silent.
Toshi instinctively took a step back. The power radiating before him was neither divine nor demonic _ it was something far older, far more primal.
Ryouma, unaware of the chaos around him, remained perfectly still. His eyes stayed closed, his breathing unbroken, his expression calm _ as if meditating in a storm.
The violet aura began to stabilize, pulsing softly, almost peacefully. Yet each beat of that pulse sent invisible waves through the ground, scorching faint black lines into the soil. Within seconds, those marks formed a circle of intricate, ancient symbols _ a sigil no mortal hand could have drawn.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the light faded.
Ryouma opened his eyes _ calm, steady, unaware that for a brief instant his pupils had glowed black edged with violet.
He exhaled slowly. "How was that, Toshi?" he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Toshi hesitated, his throat dry.
"..…Perfectly done," he said finally, forcing his tone steady. "You've gone far beyond synchronization."
Ryouma only nodded, humble as ever. "Understood."
He rose, picked up his wooden sword, and returned to his drills as if nothing extraordinary had occurred.
Toshi remained rooted to the spot, his gaze locked on the faintly scorched sigil in the grass.
"…..That wasn't just Ki or Mana," he murmured under his breath. "His Qi awakened too. The three energies… coexisting in one body?"
His voice dropped lower.
"That's impossible..… unless he carries the same essence as Lady Sayaka…..or young master Renjiro."
He looked toward the mist-shrouded sky, a shadow passing over his face.
"Unless...…" he whispered, "he carries the essence of something not meant to exist in this world."
Years had passed quietly since the spar with Lady Sayaka.
The name Ryouma had transformed from a whispered scandal of an illegitimate child into a legend of awe and unease among the nobility. He was no longer just a boy _ he was something far beyond mortal understanding.
Yet, far from the sunlit lands of the manor, in a place untouched by light or time, something else began to stir.
A dim chamber stretched beneath an ancient mountain, carved of cold stone and veiled in mist. Faint lightning flickered through narrow cracks in the walls, illuminating six shadowed figures seated around a massive table.
No eye could tell if they were human or something else entirely. Glowing orbs peered from beneath their hoods _ crimson, gold, and some like dying embers.
Above the table, a vast projection of planet Varaha rotated slowly. Oceans shimmered, mountains cast shadows, and continents sprawled in eerie detail.
A young, uncertain voice broke the heavy silence.
"So….. what shall we do now?"
Another, older and sharper, spoke without hesitation.
"Begin the sequence. They are still weak _ unprepared. The world has forgotten what lies beyond the veil."
A third figure leaned forward, his tone deliberate and cold.
"Then it is settled. The first awakening begins."
At those words, ancient sigils etched into the stone floor began to glow faintly _ and then brighter, flooding the chamber with a blinding light.
A colossal magic circle erupted beneath their feet _ intricate, forbidden, and thrumming with energy older than mortal memory. This was no ordinary spell; it resonated with the planet itself.
Lightning tore across the heavens, splitting skies and shattering clouds.
Across the world, strange phenomena unfolded.
In the deserts, sand dunes spiraled into impossibly tall towers.
In frozen lands, glaciers cracked and bled veins of glowing blue light.
Across the seas, whirlpools formed perfect circles, emanating faint runic glows.
People stopped in fear, staring at the impossible.
Priests fell to their knees, trembling.
Scholars scribbled frantically, desperate to understand.
Children screamed. Animals fled.
"What….. what is happening!?"
"Divine punishment!?"
"Run! Run from here!"
Yet the world did not understand. This was no punishment.
It was a signal. A call that had lain dormant for ages _ and now, it had been answered.
Far away, in a quiet manor, Ryouma stirred in his sleep. His breathing grew uneven, his mana core pulsing violently, as though responding to a distant echo.
For a fleeting instant, the faint trace of black-purple light flickered around his chest — the same color that had appeared under the cherry tree so long ago.
And above, in the endless void, unseen eyes watched.
"The first piece has awakened," one of the shadowed figures whispered.
"They will come soon. Remember this child.… they once forsook."