Inside the park again, I dashed backward, trying to evade Bron's attack. He was moving fast—so fast it was as though every motion carried the intent to land a hit.
I'd promised to spar with him after resting for two days, but I'd never seen him so excited. Every move he made was filled with joy, and he wore the same smirk the old man always had.
Each time I looked at that smirk, a sense of disgust twisted in my chest. It was the same smirk that had once made me want to leave this world faster.
But even as I felt that disgust, I noticed something else: Bron was getting faster. His movements were beginning to look unnatural, as though he was moving purely by instinct.
He suddenly leapt upward, aiming a kick toward the left side of my neck.
Before he could land it, I caught his arm. A memory surfaced in my mind, sharp and clear—the words of my master echoing as though he was right there beside me:
"There's a difference between an instinct fighter and a thinker fighter. A thinker tries to predict the opponent's next move and use it to their advantage. An instinct fighter moves like an animal—pure reflex, pure reaction.
Both ways can win. Or lose. You can defeat either, depending on who you are… and on what kind of person you think you're facing.
But if you're facing an instinct fighter… move just a little faster. Interrupt those unpredictable motions. If it's unpredictable, they can't stop it. They're only trying to flow with nature. You must become the wall that stops nature itself.
Fighting a logical thinker? Sure, a straight fight is incredible. But what's even more incredible is having a plan to outwit someone smarter than you. Become a trickster. A surprise attacker. I think you understand both. You've already shown me you can fight in either style."
Those words surged through my mind as Bron's leg came closer to my neck. Before he could connect, I twisted his arm, spun around, and slammed my elbow into his face.
The strike landed. I let go of his arm, sending him crashing to the ground with tremendous force.
A few moments later, he got back up and continued fighting.
Nearby, I noticed Aleyas watching us, her face tense with worry. She barely seemed to understand what was happening. After all, I was moving at a speed even I didn't expect from myself to reach.
The more Bron moved, the more he revealed his true strength. Without realising it, he was using the same tricks his master had taught him.
His body began to glow with the same vivid orange aura that surrounded his master whenever he fought seriously.
Bron launched forward, throwing punches. This time, I didn't try to block any of his attacks. Instead, I dashed away, dodging each strike. I knew every attack carried its own shockwave and force—I couldn't let a single one hit me.
I weaved around his attacks and countered swiftly, leaving him no chance to regain his rhythm.
We fought until the sun began to set, Bron eventually falling to the ground, exhausted.
We'd keep practicing for the rest of the almost two weeks. But after that ended, we wouldn't train anymore. Because we'd rest for one day before going to the castle, and face him.
Those words began to echo in my mind in the last days of our training.
I questioned myself over and over. Was I strong enough? Was there any way I could defeat him?
I tried to create strategies in my head, but none of them felt like they'd work.
For the first time, I was truly scared.
Not scared of the unknown—but of the known.
It wasn't what I didn't know that terrified me. It was what I did.
I thought about asking my master for advice. But when I tried, he only smiled and said, "Don't worry. You can do it."
But his reassurance didn't bring me peace. Because every time he'd spoken to me like that before… I had failed.
I also remembered him mentioning there would be an "audience" watching the fight.
My first thought was: Is this some kind of tournament final or something?
But then I realized… it wasn't what he said that worried me. It was the cheerful way he spoke about it—the bright smile and the lightness in his voice. I hated that about him. It made me even more anxious.
Later that week, I walked to the park with Aleyas, waiting for Bron to finish his training.
Afterward, we headed to a café and spent time talking as the sun set. When it grew dark, we went home, stopped by the store for groceries, and made dinner together.
But we didn't start eating right away.
We were waiting for people.
Eventually, they arrived—my master and the old man, both dressed in black suits.
As they came in, my master glanced at my hair, looking a little disappointed that I'd cut it. But he said nothing.
We all sat down and shared dinner, trying to enjoy ourselves.
I felt a strange emptiness.
It was a dinner surrounded by people I knew. People I respected. Yet somehow, it didn't feel complete for me.
When we finished, I went to bed, thinking about tomorrow.
The next morning, I woke up and immediately changed into my kimono, as my master had instructed. He'd even given me its name—a tradition among warriors.
After changing, I went out with my master to the minka.
He handed me a sword, still sealed in its scabbard, as always.
Normally, he forbade me to draw it. But this time, he said nothing—as if silently telling me that during the fight, it was finally time to unsheathe it.
After some meditation, we went to the castle.
As we approached, I could feel countless eyes on me.
Some people looked puzzled. Others seemed surprised. But no one looked down on me—or up at me.
As I walked forward, I caught sight of someone familiar.
Felix.
He stared at me with cold eyes—not angry, just focused. He knew why I was here.
Finally, I pushed open the castle doors.
A flood of memories surged through me.
I remembered my first time standing here.
The place looked older now, the wood worn and weathered.
As I entered, I immediately sensed his presence.
And the moment he stepped onto the floor, a torrent of rage, disgust, hatred, and pure anger tore through me.
My voice cracked as I tried to speak, my face twisted with raw emotion.
"We meet again," I said.
I must have shocked everyone with the venom in my voice.
But I couldn't stand his existence.
At last, I understood the Ray from my dream.
I couldn't imagine a world where both he and I could exist.
My voice trembled as I continued:
"Let's see… if the hero can kill the monster.