Lyra's first strike missed.
Thud!
The heavy blade slammed against the arena floor.
Iren stood a few steps away, completely untouched.
"Again," he said calmly.
Lyra tightened her grip.
She nodded.
"Haaah!"
She attacked again.
Horizontal slash—
Whoosh!
Vertical strike—
Swish!
Diagonal cut—
Fwoom!
But none of her attacks touched him.
Iren dodged effortlessly.
A slight step.
A small tilt.
A smooth turn.
Like the wind slipping through branches.
Yet Lyra did not stop.
Again—
And again—
And again—
Her arms trembled.
The heavy sword dragged her movements slower each time.
But she refused to quit.
---
From the upper building—
Sylven squinted.
"…Looks like they really came here for training."
Riven nodded slowly.
"Hmm… It seems so."
Kael crossed his arms.
"…Maybe we misunderstood him again."
He inhaled deeply.
"Now maybe we should return to our rooms."
"We are tired too…" Sylven added.
Riven stretched his arms.
"Yeah… spying is exhausting."
Kael gave him a flat look.
"…We were observing."
"Right. Observing."
The three of them quietly left the railing.
Step by step—
They disappeared into the corridor shadows.
---
But in the arena—
Lyra was still attacking.
Clang!
Thud!
Whoosh!
Her breathing became heavy.
"Hah… hah…"
Sweat rolled down her temple.
Her arms burned.
Her legs trembled.
Yet she swung again.
Iren noticed it.
"Maybe we should take a small break."
Lyra shook her head immediately.
"No."
She prepared another swing.
Iren's tone became firmer.
"Don't force your body too much. Overtraining leads to complications."
She hesitated.
Her breathing was unstable now.
After a moment—
"…Fine."
She lowered the sword carefully and sat down on the cold stone floor.
Pant.
Pant.
Sweat dripped from her chin.
The moonlight reflected off the blade beside her.
After catching her breath, she looked at Iren.
"Is this how your master trained you?"
Iren smiled faintly.
"…Maybe it's a bit similar."
Lyra narrowed her eyes.
"Tell me the truth."
Silence.
The wind passed between them.
Fwoooosh…
Iren's expression grew serious.
"…This is just twenty percent of my real training."
Lyra froze.
"…Just twenty percent?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
He looked at his sword in her hands.
"First, I trained with a wooden sword."
"Then a steel one."
"When I mastered that…"
His gaze deepened.
"He gave me this transformable sword."
Lyra glanced down at it.
Then Iren turned away slightly.
"And after that… I had to fight him."
Lyra's eyes widened.
"And of course," he added calmly, "I lost every time."
He looked toward the moon.
"My master was far stronger than we can imagine."
A pause.
"…Maybe he never even used twenty percent of his power against me."
Lyra gasped softly.
"Then he must be—"
Iren's expression stiffened.
After all… he is—
Aetherion's voice echoed faintly in his memory.
Never speak of me.
Iren stopped mid-sentence.
Lyra leaned forward.
"He is… what?"
Silence.
Iren thought quickly.
Then he exhaled slowly.
"I told you. He was far stronger than my imagination."
Lyra stared at him for a second.
Then slowly nodded.
But inside—
Iren felt a chill.
That was close…
He quietly exhaled in relief.
He had protected Aetherion's identity once again.
After a moment, he looked at the sky.
"It's too late."
He turned toward her.
"We should return."
Lyra immediately stood up.
"Then my training?"
"We'll continue tomorrow."
She hesitated.
But she had no strength left to argue.
"…Alright."
Then she looked at the sword in her hands.
"Can I… borrow this for one day?"
Iren froze.
"…What?"
Silence fell.
As if thunder had struck him.
"You want… my sword?"
She nodded.
"For training."
Iren shook his head instinctively.
"Sorry. I can't."
Lyra stepped closer.
"Please."
He looked conflicted.
She asked again.
And again.
Until finally—
Iren sighed.
"…You won't let me go unless I agree, right?"
She gave a small smile.
"…Probably not."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"…Fine. One day."
Lyra's eyes brightened.
"Thank you!"
She stepped toward him quickly.
Iren instantly raised his hands.
"No. Not again."
Lyra stopped abruptly.
Her face turned red.
"N-No! I didn't mean anything like that!"
Iren exhaled.
"That's good."
Then Lyra lowered her head slightly.
"…I'm sorry."
He blinked.
"For what?"
"For yesterday. Because of me… you had to face that embarrassment."
Iren's eyes widened slightly.
"…Wait. That means you heard everything last night?"
Before he could finish—
Lyra suddenly bowed deeply.
"Thank you. For everything."
And without waiting—
She turned and hurried away.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Her figure disappeared into the corridor.
Leaving—
Iren standing alone in the middle of the arena.
The moon shone silently above him.
He stared at the empty space where she stood moments ago.
"…What just happened?"
The cold breeze brushed past him.
Fwoooosh…
And for the first time that night—
Iren felt something he couldn't predict.
---