After walking for a while, the pair arrived at Artun's bakery. Following a brief chat, they bought their usual bread and continued on their way.
Finally, they stood before their front door. Ishtar and Andor were terrified to knock because they were very late. Nera must have been extremely worried, and a severe beating likely awaited them.
"Hey, I'm scared. You knock," Andor whispered.
"No, you knock," Ishtar protested.
"Let's play Rock, Paper, Scissors; whoever loses knocks," Andor suggested.
"Fine, let's do it," Ishtar agreed.
Suddenly, footsteps approached from behind the door. It had to be Nera; she must have heard their whispering—her hearing was impeccable.
Creak.
The door flew open, and Nera appeared. She wore a demonic smile. The beast within the angel had awakened... She was clearly furious. Ishtar and Andor instantly broke into a sweat.
Nera grabbed both of them by the ear.
"My, my... Look who finally decided to come home."
Ishtar immediately pointed a finger at Andor. "M-Mom, I can explain! It was his idea to forge the sword, that's why we're late!"
"Heyy! You little traitor, you sold me out already?" Andor shouted.
With her monstrous strength, Nera dragged them both inside by their ears, and that night... screams echoed from the Trangd household. The neighbors didn't know what was happening, but they certainly didn't want to get involved.
After a thorough beating, Ishtar and Andor explained everything to Nera, and then Ishtar showed her the sword they had made.
"It's quite beautiful," Nera said, her eyebrows still knitted together. "But next time, if you're going to be late, let me know, okay?"
Ishtar and Andor bowed down in prostration. "As you wish, my Empress!" they said in unison.
Once Nera's anger subsided, she returned to normal and flashed her angelic smile. Seeing their angel return, Ishtar and Andor silently thanked the gods.
"Come on, dinner is ready. Let's eat before it gets cold," Nera said.
After dinner, the Trangd family retired to their rooms. Ishtar stepped out onto the balcony of his room, which overlooked the sea. He was quite tired, so he planned to sleep early, but he decided to read a bit first. He sat in his chair and opened "Lord of the Black Moon" by his favorite author, Vertas. He had borrowed this book from the library on Postal Street.
After reading for a while, he put the book on the table, gazed at the ocean horizon, and took a deep breath. Suddenly, he thought of Neosa. That beautiful smile... He hadn't seen her since that day. He wondered what she was doing now.
He got up from the table and turned to go to bed. Just then, a voice came from behind him.
"Hey, young man!" a woman's voice called out.
Ishtar spun around quickly. Yes, it was one of the cloaked figures he had seen that day! She was wearing the same cloak and brooch.
Ishtar immediately jumped back and took a combat stance. "Who are you, and why do you wear the same brooch as those men?"
"Hey, hey, relax, buddy. I didn't come here to hurt you," the girl said.
She pulled off her hood, and her long black hair cascaded in the sea breeze. She had pale white skin and blood-red eyes. Ishtar blushed; standing before him was a lady as beautiful as Neosa.
A smile appeared on the woman's face. "What is it? Cat got your tongue because of my beauty?"
"W-who said that? Besides, my heart belongs to another woman," Ishtar stammered.
The girl laughed. "Ah! You really are funny."
Ishtar pointed a finger at her. "Why are you laughing? Is there something funny?"
The girl tossed her hair back with her hands. Her black hair, combined with the moonlight, created a mesmerizing image.
"The Princess of the Rose Duchy, isn't she?"
Ishtar flinched upon hearing this. "How do you know it's her?"
"Actually," the girl said, "I've been following you for a few days."
Ishtar's pupils dilated. Why was she following him? What was their goal?
"What business do you have with me? What do you want?"
The girl tossed a coin with a black Isotra star on it to Ishtar.
"If you want to know why I'm following you, go to the Star Bar on 21st Street. Give this coin to the barista. He will ask for a password; the password is 'Twilight'. I will be waiting for you there."
The girl suddenly vanished into thin air.
Ishtar looked at the coin in his hand. "Whatever, I'm too tired. That's a job for another day," he muttered, placed the coin in the drawer next to his bed, and fell into a deep sleep.
Ishtar found himself in that dark place again, but unlike the last time, he was no longer afraid; he knew this was his subconscious.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to him: If this was the depth of his own mind, he could change it however he wanted!
First, he closed his eyes and imagined a table appearing in front of him. When he opened his eyes; yes, it worked! A simple table stood before him. Then, he imagined this place turning into a vast meadow, and he succeeded again. That dark place was now a sunny meadow with butterflies fluttering about.
Then, a voice was heard: "It seems you've learned how to use your subconscious."
It was the voice of the boy from his previous dream. Ishtar looked behind him, up, left, and right, but couldn't see anyone.
"Hey brat, where are you?"
The boy suddenly appeared right in front of Ishtar. "Hey, how many times have I told you not to call me a brat? I am thousands of years older than you!"
Ishtar placed his hand on the boy's head and started to ruffle his hair. The boy frowned and, with a sudden movement, blasted Ishtar away with wind magic.
THUD!
Ishtar slammed into the trunk of a tree in the meadow. "Ouch, that hurt! I only patted your head."
The boy crossed his arms and struck an arrogant pose. "Even gods dare not touch me, so how does a mere mortal like you have the audacity?"
Ishtar's face flushed with anger, but remembering that the person in front of him looked like a child, he decided to act like an adult. He took a deep breath and calmed down.
"Anyway, I won't fight with you, you arrogant thing. I was going to thank you for what you taught me in my last dream. Also, I gained a new title: 'Magic Blacksmith,' I think."
"Magic Blacksmith? That means you've grasped the basics of magic a little. In that case, today let's teach you hand techniques."
Ishtar was surprised. "Hand techniques? I thought I was going to learn the basics of Cesrad."
Hearing this, the boy facepalmed in exasperation. "To learn Cesrad, you first need to have intermediate-level magic knowledge."
Ishtar bit his lip in embarrassment. Indeed, he was at the very beginning of the road and acting impatiently. "Alright, you're right," he said in a defeated tone. "So what do I need to do to reach the intermediate level? These hand techniques... are they like imagining a table?"
"Imagination is the spirit of the work; hand techniques are the body of that spirit," the boy said with a knowledgeable air. "It is not enough to circulate energy within your body; you must shape how you transfer it outward with your hands. Watch."
The boy created a dummy with magic; evidently, he would demonstrate the techniques on it.
The boy closed his eyes. The dummy began to attack, but no matter how fast its strikes were, it couldn't touch the boy. Even with his eyes closed, the boy dodged every attack with mastery. This scene felt familiar to Ishtar; it reminded him of the moment he fought the cloaked men.
The boy delivered a punch first to the dummy's lung, then to its chest. The dummy instantly turned to dust and vanished.
"See? This technique I used is called Qi. You usually won't see this on this continent because it belongs to a country in a distant land."
"Actually, I know this technique," Ishtar said. "My father taught it to me. To use it, you need to utilize all five senses; it's a technique that teaches you to feel attacks not just with your eyes, but with your whole being."
The boy thought for a moment. "It seems your father must have gone to the Eastern Lands and learned this technique there."
Ishtar had never heard of such a country before. "Eastern Lands... What kind of place is it?"
"Actually, it's quite different from the Empire," the boy explained. "Instead of a royal family, a single man rules the country, but not through inheritance. When the King dies, a festival is held in the coliseum, and the strongest person who wins the tournament is elected King."
Ishtar liked this idea. A leader who earned the crown by right, rather than someone who sat on the throne just because their father was king, seemed more noble to him. "I understand... If I ever have time, I would like to travel there."
"Anyway, let's get back to business," the boy said. "I must test you to see how mastered you are in Qi. Get ready, I will test you personally."
Ishtar stepped back and took his Asakirna stance. A sudden smile appeared on the boy's face. "Hmm, a pretty good stance. Your father really knew his stuff."
BAM!
The boy shot forward and began to attack. Ishtar focused on applying the technique he had learned: "Feel with all your senses... Feel everything..."
Suddenly, time slowed down. The boy's movements turned into a slow-motion film. Yes, that was a fist, and it was coming toward his jaw!
[Divine Disciple Talent Activated]
Whosh!
The boy had thrown a powerful punch, but Ishtar dodged it with ease.
"I see, at least you've grasped the basics. In that case, let's move to the next level."
The boy took a strange stance. He formed his right hand into a tiger claw and his other hand into a fist. Ishtar had never seen this stance before.
"Watch me. This is the martial art I created myself: Black Moon Arts."
A purple-black mist covered the boy's hand. He lunged forward to attack again. It looked like he was going to do the exact same attack as before.
"The same attack again? That won't work on me!" Ishtar said, dodging the strike. A scornful smile appeared on his face, but the situation was not at all as he thought.
SMACK!
He had dodged the attack, but he still received a violent blow to his jaw. How did that happen? Ishtar collapsed to the ground from the impact. "Ah... I think my jaw is dislocated. How did you do that?"
"This is the first technique of my martial art: Afterimage. This technique creates an invisible shadow of you. The blow you just took was the attack of the shadow I created."
Ishtar's eyes lit up. "That's so cool! I want to learn this technique!"
"Sorry, but since this martial art is specific to my body, you cannot use it."
Ishtar's face fell. "Then what will I do?"
"You will create a martial art suitable for your own body," the boy repeated.
"But why?" Ishtar asked in astonishment. "Aren't good techniques universal?"
The boy shook his head. "For ordinary techniques, yes. But for high-level arts, no. The energy channels in your body are like a riverbed, Ishtar. My river flows wild and dark; yours might be calmer but deeper. If we pour my water into your bed, it will overflow and drown you."
The boy looked deep into Ishtar's eyes.
"That is why you cannot imitate. You must find the water that suits your own riverbed and decide how it flows yourself. This is called 'The Way'. Everyone draws their own path."
A bolt of lightning struck in Ishtar's mind. "So, my own path, huh... I understand. I learned a lot today, thank you, Master."
The boy was surprised. No one had ever called him "Master" before. "Master? Since when did I become your master?"
With a sincere smile, Ishtar said, "Ever since you taught me the basics of magic..."
Hearing this, the boy smiled genuinely. Seeing this being, whom he normally believed to be emotionless, wear such a sincere expression made Ishtar happy.
"See you next night, Master!"