Chapter 938 — The Taste of Freedom
The air in the training courtyard was thick with sweat, magic, and the weight of expectation. Eris stood at its center, eyes closed, feeling the soft wind brush across her pale skin. The scent of dust and steel filled her nose — a scent she had learned to love. Around her, the Hollow's recruits were watching again, murmuring about the Witch of Chaos and her unpredictable power.
But today, she wasn't sparring under Kael's supervision.
Today, Kael had simply said, "Show them what freedom looks like."
She didn't fully understand what he meant — not yet. But she wanted to.
Eris lifted her hand, and the chaos answered. It rippled outward, threads of violet energy twisting through the air like ribbons caught in a breeze. The recruits backed away, but she didn't notice their fear this time. She only felt the pulse, steady and strong — her will shaping the storm.
When she opened her eyes, her pupils glowed faintly, and she smiled.
"Begin."
Three recruits moved in first, testing her defenses. She didn't fight defensively this time. She moved with the attack — ducking under a swing, sliding past a blade, letting her chaos magic carry her like wind in motion. Her body moved on instinct, fluid and fast, a dancer guided by her own rhythm.
She twisted her wrist, and a spear of chaotic light burst into being — not forged from anger or duty, but from joy. It was a perfect moment of creation, untethered and alive.
She knocked the first recruit's blade aside and sent him spinning with a controlled pulse of magic. Another charged, and she sidestepped, laughter — real, human laughter — bubbling out of her chest.
The recruits froze for a moment, startled by the sound.
She didn't notice. She was lost in it — in the feeling.
Each movement felt like flying. Each strike, a heartbeat.
It wasn't about victory anymore. It was about being.
When she finally stopped, chest heaving, the spear of chaos faded from her hand. The courtyard was silent except for her breath. The recruits watched her in awe, but what Eris felt wasn't power or superiority. It was freedom.
Kael stepped forward from the shade, where he'd been watching quietly.
"You enjoyed that," he said softly, a knowing smirk tugging at his mouth.
Eris turned toward him, her white hair falling over her face. "I did."
"Why?"
She hesitated, eyes drifting toward her hands. "Because… in that moment, nothing else existed. No fear. No thought. Just the motion. The choice to move or not. I think…" she paused, almost shyly, "I think that is what freedom feels like. The ability to act — not from logic, but from desire."
Kael's expression softened. "Then you've already learned more than most warriors ever do."
She tilted her head. "Is it wrong that I enjoy it?"
He chuckled quietly. "It's not wrong. But never forget — fighting brings out the truth in people. The good, and the terrible. You'll have to choose what kind of truth you want yours to be."
Eris looked back to the recruits, who were whispering among themselves again. The Witch of Chaos, they called her still, but this time the title carried admiration, not fear.
She smiled — small, uncertain, but genuine. "Then I will fight for joy. For life. Not just destruction."
Kael nodded approvingly. "That's what I hoped you'd say."
As the two walked back toward the heart of the Hollow, Eris's mind buzzed. She replayed the feeling of chaos flowing through her veins — not like a weapon, but a dance partner. It was wild, intoxicating, and dangerously addictive.
Later, in the quiet of her quarters, she sat by the window, staring at her hands again. She flexed her fingers, watching faint traces of chaos curl between them.
"Freedom," she whispered. The word felt heavy and light all at once.
Then, almost against her will, a smile curved her lips again. "I think," she murmured softly, "I like fighting."
A moment passed — and for the first time, Eris didn't correct herself.