As twilight deepened, Rena reentered the portal and emerged at the Rotschy estate's eastern annex—crafted entirely from obsidian, with intricate runework etched into its pillars, faintly aglow with mana and synthesized oxygen. The air felt cold, purified. The sunset bled out, and the moon's rise pulsed light through midnight-black corridors.
She searched the courtyard, hoping against hope to see Jin's silhouette — but there was no sign of him. A hush of absence draped the surroundings.
Her guide, Siôn, appeared. "He's in the southern combat arena. This section is for mages. Your training begins here."
Rena's pulse stuttered at the reminder: Jin is off-limits. His world was separate—built on physical mastery and brutal rituals. Hers would be crafted from spells and mana-weaving.
They approached an enormous obsidian door embossed with silver crescents. Siôn knocked, measured and respectful. A chill voice responded: **"Enter."**
Inside stood Naoko Rotschy.
Naoko's presence crushed any naïve notion of kindness. She stood tall and composed, silver hair cascading like liquid starlight, moonlit eyes glinting behind long lashes. Her pale, flawless skin and black lace gown made her look like a legend stepped into flesh—a goddess both icy and unstoppable.
"Rena," she stated, quiet and unwavering. "Now that you are part of the Rotschy family, you must be strong. We begin training your body. As a witch, your physical frame is too fragile for close combat."
Her tone was firm, not unkind—but there was no invitation to softness.
Rena felt her heartbeat pound in her ears, legs stiffening.
Naoko produced a floating training outfit—sleek, black, and clearly enchanted. "Remove your clothes so I can assess your physical condition."
Rena's cheeks flamed, eyes lowering. She trembled.
Naoko's voice carried on: "No need for shame. We are all women here. I've applied a mana barrier so none in the eastern wing can see or hear."
Silent, Rena stripped off her uniform and remained in black lace undergarments. She hugged herself defensively, her heart racing.
Siôn hovered nearby, equally still—her brown-red hair and warrior calm fitting her role. Rina sensed Siôn's conflicted attention; part protective, part curious.
Naoko's silver eyes scanned Rina methodically. "Your body fails to meet close-range endurance. You will train here daily."
She handed Rina the fitted training outfit. As Rina slid into it, her skin tingled—the fabric conformed, tight, resisting movement. Naoko explained: "It's magical. It adapts to your physical strength. The heavier it becomes, the stronger you must become—no resistance to mana, no lightweight compromises."
Rena nodded, understanding the gravity of the task: this outfit would not come off—ever, unless Naoko allowed.
Naoko signaled Siôn. "Watch her closely. Keep the energy tonics near."
Siôn inclined her head, already analyzing Rina's shifting stance, her tremor.
Naoko turned toward the heated marble pillars and stepped outside, her heel tapping resonance into the polished floor—leaving behind an air of cold authority.
Inside, Rena and Siôn faced the beginning of a brutal, uncompromising training regime.
---