After Rathen finished speaking, silence lingered between us.
His story still echoed inside me.
The broken sword.
The kick.
The stare that stopped a monster.
I stood up slowly and bowed.
"If I find someone worthy," I said, keeping my head lowered, "I will pass this legacy on. And if I gain the power to improve it… I will."
For a moment, he didn't respond.
I felt his gaze pressing down on me.
Then—
"Good."
He stood.
"Now listen carefully."
"Death Glare is not just killing intent," Rathen said. "It is understanding."
He folded his arms.
"Normally, a person must experience true proximity to death at least once."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You've nearly died enough times. That condition is satisfied."
I didn't know whether to feel proud or insulted.
"The second condition is acceptance."
He stepped closer.
"You must not fear death."
"That does not mean seeking it."
"Not every battle is to the death."
"But when death stands before you… do not tremble."
His voice lowered.
"When that moment comes, do not die with regret. Die with pride. With a smile."
A chill ran down my spine.
"The more you accept death," he continued, "the sharper your mind becomes. The more concentrated your will."
"And that concentration becomes Death Glare."
He picked up two clear glass containers filled with water and placed one in each of my hands.
Then he pointed.
"Stand there."
A beam of sunlight cut through the training yard, striking a single spot on the ground.
"That's it?" I asked.
"You stand where the sunlight falls," he replied calmly.
"If the water ripples… spills… or trembles — you restart."
He flipped an hourglass.
"Empty your mind."
"Focus."
"At full concentration, even a falling leaf will seem slow."
"Lose even a speck of control… and you begin again."
The First Hour
At first, it felt simple.
Just standing.
Just holding water.
Then the shaking began.
Five minutes in, my arms felt heavier.
Ten minutes — my shoulders burned.
Sweat gathered at my brow.
The sunlight felt hotter than it should.
My throat dried.
My fingers twitched.
A small ripple formed across the water's surface.
"Restart."
The hourglass turned again.
I clenched my teeth.
I tried again.
And again.
And again.
My legs trembled.
My back stiffened.
Once, I coughed unexpectedly — and the water shook.
"Restart."
Not once did I reach even half an hour.
By midday, my arms felt detached from my body.
Rathen approached me.
"Did your hands hurt?"
"Yes."
"Did your throat dry?"
"Yes."
"At death, your throat dries. Pain floods your body. Your mind panics."
"This training forces you to experience that state… without dying."
He turned another hourglass.
"We continue after lunch."
Afternoon
The sun lowered.
My muscles screamed.
The light shifted.
Still I stood.
Still I failed.
When I finally dropped to one knee, unable to hold my arms steady any longer, Rathen let out a quiet laugh.
"What did you expect?" he said. "To master my life's work in a day?"
Then he walked away.
I thought that was the end.
I was wrong.
"Where are you going?"
The voice wasn't loud.
But the air changed.
I froze.
Siena stood at the edge of the training yard.
The warmth of the sun suddenly felt colder.
Her eyes scanned me — not with concern.
With evaluation.
"I thought Rathen was handling my training," I said carefully.
"For the technique," she replied.
She stepped forward.
Each step felt deliberate.
"If he is giving you one of his trump cards…"
Her gaze sharpened.
"Do you think I will allow you to remain weak elsewhere?"
My throat tightened.
"I—"
She raised a hand slightly.
I stopped talking immediately.
"From today onward," she continued, "I will train your body."
"Hand-to-hand combat."
"Techniques I designed."
Her tone hardened.
"These are not legendary moves."
"These are survival methods."
"When you lose your weapon."
She tossed something at my feet.
Iron weights.
Heavy.
Cold.
"You will wear them on your wrists and ankles."
"At all times."
My eyes widened slightly.
"At all times?" I repeated before thinking.
She looked at me.
Just looked.
And suddenly the sunlight felt insignificant.
"I have already informed Rathen," she said calmly.
"And Duracal."
"If anyone sees you without them…"
Her lips curved faintly.
"I will personally spar with you."
That was not a promise.
That was a threat.
"I understand, ma'am," I said immediately.
She nodded once.
"Good."
She turned and began walking away.
"Oh," she added without looking back, "training starts now."
I stared at the weights.
My arms were already shaking.
My legs were burning.
And it seemed…
This was only the beginning.