The sky no longer showed any color. The sunlight was absorbed by a layer of gray clouds that rolled tightly above the Pacific Ocean. There was no direction of the wind in the sky like that—only a gray expanse that seemed to erase the boundary between the sky and the sea.
The stealth-hybrid ship of the Anti-Solaris organization moved slowly, almost silently, as if it didn't want its presence to be known by any world. Its shape was sleek and symmetrical, its surface almost liquid, blending with the moist air and the horizon line. The technology they used was not just the result of innovation, but also adaptation from the ruins of the old world that had been touched by the Princeps.
I stood on the rear deck, leaning against the cold metal railing, gazing out at the endless sea. Beside me, Alexandria, the woman I initially considered a hero, now slowly appeared to me as a human full of wounds and burdens. Her long hair was blown by the wind, and her eyes, usually sharp, now looked dull... yet full of hope.
She looked like someone who was looking back at a time that couldn't be changed—not with regret, but with a kind of resilience that could only be born from loss. It had been three days since we left the city of Helix. We were only accompanied by the bespectacled leader of the Anti-Solaris organization, known as Mr. Owl. His face never changed. Flat. Serious. His calm voice always sounded like a command, even without a high tone.
Even when a plasma wave storm disrupted the ship's field on the second night, he just stood in the navigation room, watching the quantum compass move uncertainly, as if he had gone through it a hundred times before.
"This place... is not an ordinary training ground," he said in the middle of the journey.
"If that's the case, why me?" I asked at that time, holding back frustration. "Why bring me all the way here just to learn to swing a sword?"
I didn't want to be part of them. Honestly, I just wanted to resign myself to this power, hoping that someday there would be a medicine, or anything that could get rid of 'you' from me. But they decided to involve me further. Mr. Owl looked at me for a moment. His gaze was like a sensor reading biological and psychological data at the same time.
Then he said softly, "Because a sword is not just a tool. It's an extension of determination. Determination to change, fight, or defy fate."
Not long after, we finally arrived on land. From a distance, misty mountains were visible, marking an area that was said to be untouched by Scourge energy. There was no modern infrastructure here. No communication towers. No engine vehicles. Just the sound of nature and mountain wind that bit the skin. But that's precisely what made this place feel like a different world. Or a world before everything went wrong.
The village was amazing. Winding stone roads were flanked by traditional wooden buildings with curved roofs characteristic of China, red lanterns hung at every corner, and Zen gardens in the style of Japan that were perfectly maintained. Some houses had Gothic-style stained glass, emitting soft colors when lit by the sun. The architecture of the three cultures blended harmoniously, like traces of civilizations that protected each other, or like fragments of hope left behind by humans before they created monsters from another dimension.
"This is like... a living painting," I muttered.
Alexandria just smiled. But her smile wasn't an ordinary smile. There were memories. There were wounds. There was an expression of wanting to go home that was clearly visible. She looked towards one corner of the village—a pavilion that was almost hidden by plum trees. Her face changed slowly, like someone who heard the voice of their childhood again, and then bowed to hide whatever was felt in her chest.
We passed through a large wooden gate with ancient calligraphy that glowed faintly. At that moment, Alexandria stopped in her tracks. Her breath was caught.
"Still... still like before..." she said almost whispering, as if afraid that this place was just a dream.
In the distance, in the dojo yard, young women were training. Their movements were neat. Wooden swords clashed quickly and precisely. There were no shouts, just the sound of clashing and breathing. I saw strength and calmness in them. Discipline. Focus. But more than that—their calmness didn't come from victory, but from acceptance of pain.
We were brought to the main hall. The high roof with old wooden structure supported a spacious room with tatami floors. In the center of the hall, there was one man—standing upright wearing a gray training robe, his long silver hair tied back, and a thick beard adorned his rugged face.
He was Master Jian Chen. I knew it even before Mr. Owl introduced him. His authority was felt even from a dozen steps away. His eyes were like a sword blade—cold, piercing, and judging. And more than that, there was a kind of inner gravity around him. Not an aura. But a kind of pressure that made you stand more upright, speak more carefully, and be silent for longer.
Alexandria immediately gave a bow, and proudly called him, "Sensei!"
The man just looked at her briefly before saying, "You're back... without your sword."
Alexandria bowed her head. "Forgive me. The last battle—"
"A sword is not just a weapon," Jian Chen interrupted. "It's a witness to your oath. Losing a sword means losing a part of your soul."
Mr. Owl stepped forward and gave a short bow. "Sensei Jian. This is him—the owner of Ichor's power. We've brought him here for... the old method."
Jian Chen looked at me. In a few seconds, I felt my whole body being scanned, as if being thoroughly examined. There was pressure in my throat, not because of fear, but because in his eyes... I couldn't lie.
"Your name?" he asked.
I told him. He nodded slightly. Then said, "Starting tomorrow morning. You will learn not just about swords... but about yourself."
Training began even before the light pierced the morning fog. A bamboo bell rang in the distance, echoing from within the valley shrouded in thin fog. I woke up to that sound, shivering as mountain water touched my skin at the stone shower. Cold like ice, yet refreshing my consciousness.
This dojo with its gravel yard, wooden pavilions, and roofs in a mix of Chinese and Japanese styles seemed to be painted from a living past. Every corner was filled with calmness, but also contained a silent pressure that could only be understood after staying here for a few days. Everything felt quiet, yet behind that silence, something was being tested. And sometimes, I felt that what was being tested wasn't just my body, but my own belief in who I truly was.
I stood among the other students, mostly young women with serious expressions. Alexandria was at the back, watching me from afar. The wooden sword in my hand felt heavier than I imagined.
"Your grip is wrong," Master Jian Chen corrected from behind. His voice was calm, almost whispering, but it directly pierced my consciousness. "Too hard. A sword is not a hammer. It should be like your shadow, always following in harmonious steps."
I corrected my stance. For a moment, I saw a hint of patience on his face, although there was no smile.
"Your left foot forward. Not your right. Repeat."
I repeated. Continuously. Until my fingers turned red, and my arms ached. The cold dojo floor seemed to absorb my spirit. But I didn't stop.
"Stop," Jian Chen said finally.
I was panting. "Is it correct?"
"No. But you look alive," he replied without a tone of mockery. Rather... like an acknowledgment.
The following days were tough and non-stop. My body was full of bruises. My breathing was short. My hands were calloused. But... I started to understand something. Jian Chen wasn't looking for perfect students. He was looking for students who were willing to fall, learn, and get back up. Again and again. Those who wouldn't run away from their own shadows.
Alexandria would occasionally sit on the edge of the training yard, under an old sakura tree whose leaves were falling. Her eyes would always follow me silently. Sometimes she would bring me herbal water from the dojo's kitchen. Or just sit, gazing at the sunset behind the mountains. Her smile was rare, but her presence... was calming.
One day, when I dropped my sword again due to incorrect footwork, Alexandria finally approached me.
"My teacher is indeed like that," she said.
"Thorough to the point of being annoying. But he never lets his students fall apart on their own."
I looked at her, trying to absorb the meaning of her words.
"In the past twenty years," she continued, "he has trained over a hundred students. Mostly women. We Valkyries come from his hands and dedication. Meanwhile, the male students who endure become Knights. The frontline guards outside the colonies, the last defenders of humanity."
She turned to me. "You'll understand, one day."
However, a few days later, I started to waver. My body was too tired. Every night I would wake up with stiff muscles and trembling hands. It felt impossible to last more than a week.
"This is too much," I said, sitting down, after an exhausting morning training.
Alexandria offered me water. "I used to think the same," she said.
"Me? Who can even defeat the Helix army alone?"
She smiled faintly, but her eyes dimmed. "I also wanted to give up... more than once. But my teacher wants his students to not only master techniques, agility, and courage. He wants us... to be honest with our pain. Because that's where determination grows."
Then, Alexandria fell silent. Her gaze drifted. There was something on her face that changed. Like memories suddenly flooding in.
"Back then, I also sat in your place. Equally broken. But I endured because I had nowhere else to go." She stood up without saying anything else, and left me still sitting near the wooden sword.
For some reason, I didn't chase after her. That night, after extra training, I sat on the stairs of the hall. The wooden sword leaned against my knees. Trembling. Frustrated. The wind from the mountains carried the scent of damp earth and wildflowers. Alexandria sat beside me. We were silent for a long time.
"I was also broken," she said finally.
"How did you endure?" I asked softly.
She bowed her head, clasping her fingers together. "I wanted to be acknowledged. By someone who never thought I was enough."
"Who?"
"...My father," she replied softly. There was an unhealed wound in her eyes. "He was a scientist. Used to work for Helix. He left after realizing the vile deeds the Helix Overseer did... But he never truly saw me."
I looked at her. "And now?"
Alexandria took a deep breath. "I'm still not sure. But when I lost my sword, and fell from the sky... I met you instead."
Our gazes met. For a long time. The mountain wind blew her hair towards me. There was something in her eyes, but she chose to hold it back.
She stood up slowly, and said, "I'll go to my room first."
"Alexandria..." I called out to her. She turned around. Those eyes looked tired, but honest.
"If you stay here, you'll not only become a soldier, but you'll discover who you truly are," she said. Then she left.
I sat alone on the dojo stairs. Staring at my wooden sword. While the sound of frogs and bamboo leaves rustling filled the air. Far above, the stars began to light up one by one. And I started to understand... that what I was going through wasn't just physical training. But a journey of self-discovery.
This was where the power of Ichor would start to form—not because of infusions or machines... but because of choices. Because of self-control. Because of the determination to live. And I would survive.