The victory over Valerius Vane had secured the safety of Oakhaven, but it had also drawn the eyes of the world toward the small valley. Under the guidance of Elder Kaito and Konja's father, the village underwent a transformation. The Iron Spire was no longer a place of exclusion; it was reborn as the Academy of the Eternal Hearth. Here, the "Ordinary" and the "Gifted" were no longer separated by birthright, but by their willingness to master the harmony of spirit and skill.
Three years had passed since the night of the Crimson Moon. Konja was no longer the lanky, awkward boy peddling skewers on a wobbly cart. At seventeen, he had filled out, his shoulders broad from years of heavy training and his movements possessing a liquid, dangerous grace. His indigo gi was now standard for the Academy's "Elite Tier," though he still wore Mina's crimson ribbon tied firmly around his right bicep.
Beside him, Zale had grown as well. The small fox was now the size of a mountain wolf, his fur a deep, midnight indigo that pulsed with rhythmic static. He no longer sat on Konja's shoulder; he walked beside him, a silent guardian whose very presence made the air hum.
The Trial of the Five Masters
"Focus, Konja. The mind must be as still as a frozen lake before the strike," a voice commanded.
Konja stood in the center of the Pentagon Courtyard, surrounded by the five new masters of the Academy. To his left was Shor the Savory, who had moved from the salt-flats to oversee the Strength curriculum. To his right was Kalia Frost, who, after her defeat, had found a new purpose in teaching the discipline of the Cold-Style. Joining them were masters of the Wind, the Earth, and the newly integrated Spirit-Arts.
"I'm ready, Master Kalia," Konja said, dropping into a deep stance.
Kalia didn't hold back. With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed a Frost-Barrage. Unlike the jagged pillars of her youth, these were fine, needle-like shards of ice that moved with the speed of sound.
Konja didn't use his hands. He used the Fifth Pillar: Umami Balance. He shifted his weight, creating a localized Prana-vortex that caught the needles and spun them around his body, redirecting them into the stone floor.
"Better," Kalia conceded, a rare, thin smile touching her lips. "But you're still relying too much on your internal reserve. You need to learn to draw from the Hearth itself."
The Arrival of the Invitation
As the training session concluded, a mechanical owl, far more advanced than anything seen in Oakhaven, descended from the clouds. It bore the crest of the Grand Continental Hegemony—the governing body of the world's most powerful martial cities.
The bird landed on Elder Kaito's outstretched arm. He unfurled the parchment, his expression turning grave.
"Konja, Mina, Renzo, Tali. Come here," Kaito called out.
The group gathered. Mina had become the Academy's head of Apothecary, her knowledge of spirit-herbs second to none. Renzo had mastered the "Invisible Blade" technique, and Tali had expanded the Spice-Temple's reach into the village's defense force.
"The Hegemony is hosting the Decennial Summit of Stars," Kaito explained. "It is a gathering of the finest academies in the world. They have heard of the boy who broke a Siphon-Array. They are challenging Oakhaven to send a delegation to the capital city of Pangaea."
"Pangaea..." Renzo whispered. "The city built on the back of a dormant Great-Beast? That's halfway across the continent."
"It is a journey of months," Kaito said. "And it is not just a tournament. It is a school of a different kind. You will be expected to enroll in the Apex Institute for one year before the final matches. You will learn from masters who make us look like children."
Konja looked at his friends. He saw the same hunger in their eyes that he felt in his heart. Oakhaven was safe, but they had reached the ceiling of what they could learn here.
"We'll go," Konja said. "We'll show them the flavor of Oakhaven."
The Parting Gift
The night before their departure, Konja's father, Garam, took him into the deepest cellar of their home. On the table sat a long, rectangular box made of dragon-bone wood.
"The Munka family wasn't always just street-vendors, Konja," Garam said, his voice thick with emotion. "Before the debt, before the fall, we were the Keepers of the First Flame. This has been passed down for ten generations."
He opened the box. Inside lay a spatula—but it was unlike any kitchen tool Konja had ever seen. The handle was wrapped in the leather of a Great Ape, and the blade was forged from Star-Iron, shimmering with a shifting, iridescent light.
"It is the Heavens-Seared Cleaver-Blade," Garam said. "It can cut through physical steel and spiritual barriers alike. It responds only to the one who has opened the Fourth Gate."
Konja reached out and gripped the handle. The tool hummed, a resonance that vibrated through his entire body. It didn't feel like a weapon; it felt like an extension of his own hand.
Departure into the Unknown
The next morning, the village gathered at the Boiling Maw gates to say goodbye. The entire population of the Lower Sluices was there, cheering for their champion.
"Don't forget to send back recipes!" one old baker shouted.
"And don't let those city-folk look down on you!" another cried.
Konja, Mina, Renzo, and Tali stood at the head of a small caravan. They had their supplies, their Crest-Mons, and a map that led into the vast, dangerous territories beyond the valley.
"You ready, Zale?" Konja asked, looking at the massive indigo fox.
Zale let out a roar that echoed off the mountains, a sound of pure, unbridled excitement.
"Then let's move," Konja said.
As they walked away from Oakhaven, the sun rising behind them, Konja felt the weight of the Heavens-Seared Blade at his back. He was no longer a boy protecting a cart. He was a Munka, stepping out into a world of monsters, gods, and legendary masters. The first chapter of their childhood was over; the saga of the Great Masters was just beginning.