Night had fallen on Atokanayah.
In his room, lying on his back, Leo stared at the ceiling... then slowly lowered his gaze to the watch lying beside him.
He grabbed it and clutched it to his chest.
The ticking was still beating, soft but steady.
A beat of life.
A beat of hope.
He whispered, almost to himself:
"Now that Mom knows how to defend herself... I can finally start moving forward."
His eyes hardened slightly.
"I have to find money. Enough to go south. To where it all began. To where Dad disappeared."
He stared at the ceiling, resolute.
"My payday is in two weeks. And until then, I'm going to master my aura. Not just release it in a fit of anger. I have to learn to control it."
He smiled.
— "Because you never know what awaits me there."
---
The next morning, the Croc du Moa was coming back to life, customers were coming in and out, and trays of beer were dancing between the tables.
And amidst all the commotion, a young redheaded waiter was slaloming with a newfound grace.
Léo held a tray in one hand, his arm raised, focused like a tightrope walker.
He walked between the customers, avoiding the overflowing tankards, the dragging feet, the shouts and the laughter...
— "Hop. Sorry. Watch the blade."
— "Here, little redhead, add another bun here!"
— "I knew it, this kid's a machine!"
Kragg, leaning on the counter, grumbled to himself.
— "He's practicing. He thinks I can't see him..."
Eline, standing next to him, was smiling.
— "He wedged a large paving stone under each shoe to work on his footing."
Kragg stared at her.
— "Seriously?"
— "Seriously."
Meanwhile, Leo continued, focused.
Each plateau was an exercise.
Each step a repetition.
Each refusal to stumble, a victory.
He murmured, almost like a mantra:
— "Concentration. Center of gravity. Aura circulating... stabilizes the arms, balances the legs..."
He briefly closed his eyes.
And in a flash, the black aura, thin as mist, began to pulse around his arms.
Nothing aggressive.
Just a subtle reinforcement.
— "Perfect..."
He smiled.
It wasn't spectacular.
Not a fight.
Not a scream.
But it was one step closer to his goal.
And that mattered.
---
Later, while drying glasses in the back room, he remembered something.
He had approached his mother the day before, a little curious.
— "Mom... Ruggero. What was his connection to Dad?"
Aurona, her back turned, smiled.
— "At first, he was his sidekick. Your father teased him a lot. And then one day, he got really strong. Maybe too strong."
She turned to him, her gaze slightly worried.
— "Rowan said, 'He knows about the saints, but this... that's not faith. That's madness.'"
She laughed nervously.
— "My old Eastern friend said, 'He's a yandere of the goddess Attira. I think he has more effigies of her than the temple itself.'"
— "Seriously?" »
— "Your father said he thought he'd entered hell when he saw Ruggero's room. He left without even taking his sword."
She had softened.
— "He may seem eccentric... but he's much stronger than you think. And perhaps even more dangerous. So be careful, Leíto."
And Leo etched that memory into a corner of his mind.
Because even if Ruggero had spared his life...
He was still a familiar shadow.
The sun was slowly setting over Atokanayah.
Leo, his bag over his shoulder and his legs still tired from his day's work, was crossing the main street on his way home. He was whistling softly, pleased with his recent progress.
But at the turn of an alley…
He stopped dead in his tracks.
On a bench, sitting quietly, legs crossed and looking as relaxed as a tourist, stood Ruggero Martinez.
The number two of the Cattleya Guild.
The disguised assassin.
The unpredictable tester.
Leo narrowed his eyes.
"Are you following me?"
Ruggero didn't even look up from his book. A thick, leather-bound volume, with the title in gold letters: "The Adorable Light of Attira, Volume 5: The Grace of Her 173 Celestial Arms."
He slowly closed the book, raising an eyebrow.
— "Hi, DioAngelito. Nice day, huh?"
Leo approached, one eyebrow raised.
— "Can I ask you a question? A real one this time."
— "Only if it's not on my effigy collection."
— "Weren't you supposed to be the second strongest warrior in the guild? A man of mission, of strategy... Why do you want to pick on me?"
He leaned slightly toward him, his gaze piercing.
— "Don't tell me you're just a battle junkie."
A silence.
Then, Ruggero started laughing.
A light, almost childish laugh.
— "Ah, you've improved. Now you're asking the right questions."
He tapped his medallion.
— "I'm not a fighting addict. Well... not quite." »
He straightened up, staring Leo straight in the eyes.
— "I'm a curious man. And I hate unknowns. You're an unknown. You're hiding unstable potential, a raw aura, a dramatic past, a mythical father, and a mother who suddenly wakes up in warrior-monk mode."
He gave a wry smile.
— "And you want me to wait until you become dangerous so someone else can come and eliminate you? I prefer to see for myself."
Leo remained frozen.
Ruggero stood up, adjusted his coat, then added as he walked away:
— "And you know... I loved your father. Rowan was the only guy who could beat me at arm wrestling and endure my speeches about Attira for more than three minutes."
He winked.
— "I want to know if his son can surpass him." And if that's the case... I want to see it with my own eyes."
And he turned the corner of the alley, disappearing into the evening like a leaf carried by the wind.
Leo, motionless, murmured:
"This guy is a nightmare... but I think he respects me. And that... is even scarier."
The courtyard was silent.
The sky was clear.
A breath of air rustled the leaves of the tree in the center of the garden.
Leo, leaning against the trunk, held an old bound book in one hand, and a small aura crystal for meditation in the other.
A day off.
Aurona had left for the clinic, now more confident, more serene... and for once, Leo wasn't worried.
But he...
he was searching.
His eyes glided over the pages, line after line.
> "The Seven Classes of the Knightly Aura."
He already knew them. But he read them again. And again.
---
1. Iron Knight
Color: Steel gray — The foundation. Raw will.
2. Silver Knight
Color: Silvery white — The awakening of control.
3. Amber Knight
Color: Orange-gold — The power of memories.
4. Sapphire Knight
Color: Deep blue — Fluidity, calm, grace.
5. Emerald Knight
Color: Luminous green — Perfect balance.
6. Ruby Knight
Color: Incandescent red — Fire, passion, command.
7. Diamond Knight
Color: Colorless or iridescent — The pinnacle. Divine aura.
---
Leo gently closed the book, placed it on his lap.
Then he opened his palm and closed his eyes.
He concentrated.
Breathed.
Circulated his breath.
Awakened the familiar sensation… heavy… burning… chaotic.
And then, like living smoke, the aura manifested.
Not blue.
Not red.
Not gold.
Black.
A dark mist, slowly undulating around him, vibrant, almost... alive.
— "No class talks about that..."
He murmured thoughtfully.
— "No black. No inky smoke. So... what am I?"
He looked at his hand.
— "Dark as night... Yet I was born in a city blessed by Quetzalcoatl, the sun god."
His gaze wandered into the leaves above him.
— "Am I... an anomaly? Or a warning?"
The wind blew harder, as if in response to his doubts.
But he clenched his fist.
— "It doesn't matter. Even if my aura comes from another sky... I will use it to protect those I love."
He stood slowly, placed the book on the edge of the wall, and entered a posture of active meditation.
— "I must learn to control it. To understand it.
Not just explode when I'm angry... but make it vibrate at my will."
His aura activated again, around him.
Still black.
But this time, it wasn't trembling.
She was waiting.
She was listening.
She was obeying.
The courtyard was quiet, as it often was at this hour.
But in the air, something vibrated.
Standing, legs apart, arms relaxed, Leo DioAngelo closed his eyes.
He concentrated his aura.
Not to unleash it.
But to shape it.
— "I'll start with the Darkness attacks."
His voice was low, assured.
He exhaled slowly.
And like a black sea forming in an invisible hollow, the dark aura manifested.
But this time...
Nothing on his torso.
No luminescent marks.
No transformation in his eyes.
His eyes remained blue.
Clear. Alive.
Like his mother's.
He opened his eyelids again, intrigued.
— "...Strange. No pulse." »
But around him, the dark particles danced.
Not everywhere.
Concentrated.
In his right arm.
Along his forearm. Up to his fist.
— "They gather... in one place."
He clenched his fist.
The black mist condensed around his fingers.
Denser. Heavier.
He punched the air.
The sound.
Like a blade cutting through the air.
Then he jumped, spun, concentrated the aura in his left leg.
A slight tingling.
Then a shiver of power.
— "I can choose the spot... and reinforce a single area."
He smiled.
— "So that's my specialty? Not armor. Not a shard.
Just... one hit. But the right one."
He looked up at the sky.
His eyes still shone blue.
No mutation.
No rampage.
But for the first time, he was in control.
He struck again, this time chaining his movements together, concentrating the aura alternately between fists, feet, and elbows.
With each movement, the aura retracted and reappeared elsewhere, like a silent predator waiting for its moment.
— "A tactical aura... not wild. Not visible. Just precise."
He breathed, his heart pounding.
— "It's... my Darkness."
And that day, he didn't transform.
He decided.
Silence reigned in the courtyard.
Leo had just finished his series of movements, the black aura still discreetly concentrated in his left arm.
He could feel sweat beading on the back of his neck... but it wasn't heat.
No.
It was a presence.
For several minutes.
A familiar aura.
Discreet. But not enough.
A smile spread across his face.
He slowly straightened up, planted his feet in the ground, and looked up at the trees bordering the house.
— "You can stop hiding now. I know you're here."
Nothing.
But Leo continued, confidently:
— "I'm starting to feel other people's auras, you know. It's not perfect yet... but yours is special. Cold, but vibrant. Compressed like a rope ready to snap."
A beat.
Then...
A figure slipped through the foliage.
It landed delicately on top of the wall.
Ruggero Martinez, hands in his pockets, looking nonchalant.
— "Huh. Impressive. I actually wanted to test your perception threshold. You've improved."
Leo smiled.
— "If you still want to fight me, I'll make you a deal."
— "Oh? I'm listening."
— "I need a sparring partner. Serious. Stable. A little crazy too, but I'll take what I've got."
Ruggero burst out laughing.
— "You want to make me your official punching bag?"
— "No. I want to test this."
Leo clenched his fist.
His black aura abruptly concentrated in his arm.
Dense. Smoldering. Silent.
— "My Darkness technique." Punch, kick, everything I can channel into a single point. And you... you're the only one strong enough to take it without ending up in the clinic."
Ruggero raised an eyebrow curiously.
— "So you're turning me into a guinea pig."
— "You almost killed me, I think I'm allowed to use you a little."
Ruggero climbed down from the wall, his hands still in his pockets.
— "Deal. But you know what that means, right?"
— "What?"
— "I'm going to test things too."
A chill passed through the air.
Leo smiled, his fist already charged with dark energy.
— "Perfect. That's all I wanted."
And amidst the dust, the most improbable sparring match in the kingdom was about to begin.
To be continued