Lucas stood there frozen for a heartbeat, breath sharp, eyes wide.
A self-healing warrior… he'd never even heard of one.
Vivian flexed her now-uninjured arm once, casually, as if the wound had never existed. The glowing light faded from her palm like dust blown off a page.
Before Lucas could even finish absorbing what he'd seen—
"Think fast."
Her voice cut through the air, flat and sudden.
Lucas blinked. "Huh—?"
Vivian's foot slid half an inch, her grip tightening, and in her mind the words formed with razor-clean precision:
Wind Style — 17th Form: Gust Fall.
The world answered instantly.
A violent burst of compressed wind erupted beneath Lucas's feet like a trap snapping shut. The ground seemed to vanish as the explosion struck him upward and backward at once. His breath was stolen before it could even leave his lungs.
He flew—no, launched—like a leaf torn from a branch.
The sky flipped. The earth spun. The force rattled his bones.
But—
Lucas wasn't the same kid who used to flail helplessly when thrown.
Not after Shawn.
Not after Jennie.
Not after everything.
Mid-air, he grit his teeth and twisted his torso. He carved a sharp arc downward with his sword.
A thin rush of his own wind burst outward, clashing against the invisible force throwing him back. His body steadied. His fall slowed. He managed to level himself, boots scraping the dirt as he slid backward in a trail of dust.
His knees bent from the impact, breath shaky, but he didn't fall.
Vivian watched him with calm eyes. Testing. Measuring.
Lucas wiped the blood from his lip, smirked faintly, and stood straight.
He had survived her strike.
Her eyebrow lifted a millimeter.
Not bad, kid.
Not bad at all.
Vivian dashed forward in a blur—one, two, three times—each step a whisper of wind, each strike a test meant to corner him.But Lucas didn't take the bait.
He refused to get close.
He knew it now, felt it in his bones:Too close to Vivian meant being on the wrong end of a storm.
So he skidded back, always keeping just enough distance, sliding across the dirt in controlled steps. Their boots kicked off the mountain ridge—dust scattering into the clouds—and both leapt from the peak, falling down toward the thick treeline below.
Branches whipped past. Leaves tore under their boots.The world became green blur and rushing wind.
They hit the forest floor almost together, but the moment Lucas rolled into the shadowed underbrush—
he disappeared.
Vivian straightened, sword lifted slightly, eyes narrowing.The forest was quiet. Too quiet.
She stepped between the trees, expecting Lucas to burst from a bush or attack with raw aggression.
But nothing.
"Smart boy…" she murmured, scanning.
He knew forests. He grew up running through Oakridge woods.He would use that here—shadows, branches, blind angles.
Then—fwip!
A knife sliced out of the darkness.
Vivian turned her wrist and flicked it away cleanly, blade ringing against her steel guard.
Another silence.
A voice drifted through the trees, echoing from nowhere and everywhere at once:
"You dealt with one… but how about this?"
Vivian immediately braced—knees bent, wind gathering around her ankles.She expected a barrage of knives, clones, tricks—anything.
But nothing came.
No movement.No blades.Not even Lucas's breath.
Her eyes narrowed.
Concealing magic…?No—Lucas wasn't a mage. But his tricks, his misdirection… he'd learned from real fights, real killers.
Then she felt it—the shift in the air, the growing pressure of Lucas's plan closing around her.
Vivian exhaled sharply and her voice cracked through the forest like thunder:
"WIND STYLE — 8TH FORM: HURRICANE!"
The world exploded.
The entire jungle detonated.
Wind ripped upward like a living beast, trees bending and snapping under the force. Leaves tore free in a violent spiral, dirt blew skyward, and Lucas was launched out of hiding as if the storm itself rejected him.
He shot upward through the canopy, tumbling helplessly through exploding branches and swirling debris.
The world spun—sky, trees, earth—everything twisted.
And then—
Vivian moved.
A streak of silver burst from the shredded treeline, faster than the falling leaves.She kicked off a trunk, then another, rising through the air in a spiraling rush of wind.
She reached Lucas mid-fall.
Her arm hooked around his shoulder with perfect control, her other hand slamming against his chest to steady his momentum. Wind gathered beneath her boots as she twisted her body, turning the deadly fall into a smooth glide.
They drifted downward like a pair of drifting feathers, Vivian absorbing every ounce of the impact.
Lucas blinked, stunned, bleeding, dazed.His breath trembled.
Vivian set him gently on his feet, her palm still on his back to keep him steady.
Her voice was calm.Almost disappointed.
"Lucas… if that trick was your best, then you still have a very long way to go."
Lucas coughed, wiping the blood from his mouth. "Tch… you didn't have to catch me."
Vivian raised an eyebrow.
"Of course I did. I'm your mentor, not your executioner."
The storm behind her died, trees settling into silence.
Vivian stepped back, crossing her arms, her expression unreadable.
"You wanted a real mission?"She pointed at the forest she had practically annihilated.
"First learn to survive me, Lucas."
Lucas staggered upright, still breathing hard. Bruises faded one by one as Vivian pressed her glowing palm to his shoulder. Warmth spread through him—not blazing fire, but a calm, steady heat like rising sunlight. His wounds sealed. His breath steadied.
Vivian finally let go.
But this time… she wasn't smiling.
Her voice softened—not playful, not teasing, but the voice of someone who had seen too many rookies die because of the same mistakes.
"Lucas," she began quietly, "in a real mission, it's not always about strength."
Lucas blinked, surprised by the sudden seriousness.
Vivian continued, tapping the side of her head."It's about who thinks better. Who sees better. Who plans better."
She pointed at the forest they had just torn through.
"You hid in the trees. Smart move."She nodded. "You used misdirection. Good."Then her expression sharpened."But you acted like you were still in the duels. Flashy moves. Constant swings. Trying to look intimidating."
Vivian stepped closer, her voice dropping.
"You're not playing tournaments out there."
Lucas swallowed.
"You fight monsters. Bandits. Assassins. Creatures that don't care about your stance or pride."
She rested her sword against her shoulder.
"So remember this, Lucas: swing your sword when it's necessary… not when you want to look strong."
The words hit deeper than any blast of wind.
Vivian looked him straight in the eyes, no smile, no joke, only honesty:
"Be smart. Be patient. Be precise."A faint breeze passed between them."That's how you survive."
Lucas lowered his gaze, gripping his sword—not with frustration this time, but respect.
"…I understand."
Vivian watched him for a moment… then her smile finally returned, soft and approving.
"Good. Lesson one complete."
Lucas wiped the last bit of blood from his lip, looked at Vivian, and tightened his grip on his sword.
"…Can we spar more?" he asked quietly."No powers. Just a sword fight."
Vivian raised an eyebrow, surprised—but then she gave a slow, approving smirk.
"Only swords? Sure, kid."She stepped back and planted her blade in the ground."Ten yards. Reset."
Lucas paced back until the distance stretched wide between them.Vivian rolled her shoulders, loose and calm, as if this were a morning stretch rather than a duel.
They stood still.Wind swept past.Silence tightened.
Lucas dashed first.
He came in with full force—the strongest he could muster. His footwork sharpened, precise. He circled her just like Master taught him years ago, weaving patterns, shifting angles, trying to break her guard.
Vivian didn't move.Not even an inch.
Lucas exhaled sharply and struck—an attack that could split a tree clean in half.
His blade cut down.
This hit. This one landed. He knew it.
But right as the sword fell—
Vivian wasn't there.
No blur.No dodge.No afterimage.She simply vanished from the space in front of him.
Lucas blinked in shock—Then froze.
A cold touch of metal pressed lightly against the side of his neck.
Vivian's voice came from behind him, playful and wickedly amused.
"That be good for you?" Vivian asked, grin stretching into a loud laugh that echoed through the trees.
Lucas lowered his sword slowly, still dazed. "H-How did you even—"
Vivian sheathed her sword with a casual flick. "Lesson of the day, kid? Fighting isn't just power. It's presence… and disappearance."
The sun had dropped low now, streaking the sky with warm orange. Vivian glanced up at it and stretched her arms behind her head.
"Come on," she said. "It's getting dark. We should head back."
Lucas followed beside her down the forest slope, still catching his breath. The fight replayed in his mind over and over — every dodge, every mistake, every insane thing she did like it was nothing.
Vivian noticed the silence.
"You're quiet," she said.
"I'm thinking…" Lucas muttered.
"Ha! Don't burn your brain," she teased.
He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth pulled up.
As they walked, the trees parted to reveal a flat clearing with a small stream running through. Vivian stopped suddenly.
"Break time," she declared.
Lucas blinked. "Break? We're almost home."
Vivian plopped down on a rock anyway. "Which is exactly why we should eat now. Once we're inside the walls, all you'll have is training, complaining, more training, me yelling at you, and—"
"I don't complain that much." said Lucas
Vivian raised an eyebrow so hard Lucas almost apologized.
"…Fine. Maybe a little."
She tossed him a wrapped rice ball from her bag. "Eat. You fought well today."
Lucas felt something warm spread through his chest — not pride, but something gentler. He sat beside her, feet dangling over the stream.
The food wasn't anything special, but somehow it tasted better than anything he'd eaten all week.
Vivian nudged him with her elbow."So… tell me, why are you so desperate for a 'real mission'? Most kids your age would be begging me for sheep duty."
Lucas stared at the water for a moment, watching it ripple.
"I just… I don't want to be useless. I want to be strong enough to protect people."
Vivian's expression shifted — not pity, not sadness, but understanding.
"You'll get there," she said quietly. "And when you do… you'll realize strength isn't everything. Heart matters too."
Lucas looked up. "You think I have that?"
Vivian grinned. "Kid, if heart was a weapon, you'd be a 5-star hero already."
Lucas felt his ears burn.
They finished eating as the sky darkened into night. Fireflies flickered around them as they finally rose and headed toward the Kingdom of Dragons. The walls glowed under lantern light, guards switching shifts with tired yawns.
Vivian walked Lucas all the way to her home. Lucas stretched, exhausted in a peaceful way for the first time in a long while.
"Good work today," Vivian said, opening the door.
Lucas turned. "Thank you… Master."
Vivian blinked.
"…Master?"
Lucas shrugged. "You beat me unconscious then fed me rice. Feels like a master thing."
Vivian laughed — a full, bright laugh.
"Well then," she smirked, "good night, disciple."
CUT TO: A COMPLETELY DARK ROOM
Pitch black.
Silent.
Only one thing glows in the void —a floating sphere of light, swirling with images.
Inside the orb…
is Lucas.
Training. Sparring. Laughing with Vivian.
A deep voice breaks the silence.Old. Heavy. Commanding.
"Servants."
The darkness doesn't move — but the air shivers.
"I will be sleeping for two days."
The orb flickers once, shifting to show Lucas walking through the gate.
"Observe him closely," the old man continued, slow and deliberate."And make sure to wake me… exactly two days later."
A soft female voice answered from the shadows — unseen.
"Yes, master."
The glowing orb brightened—
Then the room became silent again.
Pure, empty black.