The early morning mist still hung over the floating jungle as Kris, Jessica, and Zagan stood in a quiet clearing. Dew sparkled on the grass, and birds called from hidden branches, their haunting songs echoing through the ancient trees.
Kris adjusted the straps on his gauntlets. "So, this is where our training begins?"
Zagan nodded and folded his arms. His mismatched eyes, one crimson and one violet, shone through the haze like lanterns in fog.
"You want strength," he said plainly. "Then you'll have to earn it."
Jessica raised an eyebrow. "Is this how you train all your students?"
Zagan cracked the faintest smile. "You're not students. You're survivors. You either improve yourselves, or you fall."
He drew a glowing circle in the earth with his finger. Ethereal runes illuminated beneath their feet, pulsing gently.
"This is a restraint zone. Aura-based combat only. No weapons, no deadly force. First lesson—sense the threat before it strikes."
Kris rolled his shoulders. "Got it."
Jessica leaned in. "This sounds like something from a warrior manga."
Zagan vanished in an instant and then appeared behind Kris.
"You're dead."
Kris yelped and spun around, glaring. "Okay! That's cheating!"
Zagan ignored him. "Again."
What followed was hours of intense training. Kris struggled to anticipate Zagan's movements, always a step behind. Jessica focused on defensive spells, her healing magic forming delicate barriers.
"You hesitate," Zagan growled. "In battle, hesitation kills."
Jessica huffed. "You try shielding a speed demon while he's mocking you."
Kris grinned. "To be fair, he's not wrong."
Zagan's expression was unreadable. "Enough talk. Again."
By midday, the trio collapsed onto the grass, soaked with sweat and breathing heavily.
Jessica wiped her brow. "I'm filing a complaint with the 'Mentor from Hell' guild."
"You're both getting better," Zagan said after a pause. "Slightly."
Kris smirked. "Aw, look. He cares."
Zagan shot him a deadpan stare. "Don't push it."
They all laughed genuinely for the first time in days. For a moment, war and destiny felt far away.
As the sun began to set, they sat around a campfire. Orange flames flickered against the green canopy above.
Kris gazed into the fire. "Do you think we'll ever be ready to face Cromos?"
Jessica rested her head against her knees. "We'll have to be."
Zagan remained silent at first. Then, softly, he said, "Power won't be enough. We need clarity. Purpose."
Jessica blinked. "That's the most philosophical thing you've said."
Zagan looked away. "…I've seen what happens when you fight without either."
Suddenly, Zagan's gaze snapped upward.
"…We're being watched."
Jessica stood immediately. "Where?"
"I can't see them," Kris muttered.
Zagan's eyes narrowed. "Presence. Subtle. Familiar."
Far above, hidden atop a massive gnarled branch, a cloaked figure watched.
Its eyes glowed violet—dim, yet ancient.
Unknown Entity (whispering):
"They've united. Soon, the Requiem shall bloom again."
Far beyond, in the vast void between dimensions, a lone swordsman stood in silence—shrouded in shadows, his cloak fluttering in an invisible wind.
A mysterious voice echoed in the darkness, tempting and soft:
Mysterious Voice:
"They are growing closer. The Requiem responds. You cannot delay forever."
The swordsman clenched his fists.
Swordsman:
"…They trust me. I won't break that."
Mysterious Voice:
"But what will you do when she returns? Will your blade obey your heart or your guilt?"
Silence followed. Only the hum of ancient power remained.
The blade on his back shimmered faintly—two colors pulsing in conflict within it.
[End of Chapter 4]