Wait… did he just say no?
Olric kept his expression serious, but inside, his thoughts were spiraling.
But I said everything perfectly. That was flawless.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Does he want money? Compensation? Is that it? These peasants…
A faint smile almost crept onto his face before he suppressed it.
Across from him, Aleck stood still.
So he got scolded by his parents, Aleck thought calmly. Now he's here to clean up the damage.
He had watched Olric's posture carefully.
Too straight.
Too rehearsed.
Too polished.
He doesn't mean it.
Aleck's eyes sharpened.
Still… I can use this.
Olric cleared his throat.
"So you won't accept my apology?" he asked evenly. "Is there… another way I can make amends?"
He paused, then added—
"If it's money, or clothes, or anything else… I can arrange that."
His tone was composed.
Practical.
He had seen the poorer districts of Embrek.
He knew Aleck lived in a rundown church.
Surely this was negotiable.
Aleck stepped back slightly, creating space between them.
Then—
In a sudden shift of tone—
"Come," he said, his voice rising.
"Let's see if you can beat me now."
Olric blinked.
That was not the response he expected.
He had prepared for negotiation.
Not a challenge.
But this?
This was simpler.
Better.
He raised his arms into a guarded stance, both fists high near his chin.
Aleck's posture was different.
Lower guard.
Loose shoulders.
Then—
In an instant—
Aleck lunged forward.
His body moved faster than before.
His fist drove straight toward Olric's chest.
Olric's eyes widened.
Partial resonance.
He forced his mind to steady.
Activated it.
A thin coating of force spread across his body just as the punch landed.
The impact still jolted him backward.
"That was one hell of a punch…" Olric muttered under his breath.
It hadn't even been a full day since their last encounter.
And now—
Aleck could activate partial resonance.
Impossible…
It took me five days to trigger mine.
His eyes narrowed.
Is he better than me?
And that punch—
The technique was sharper.
More refined.
That nun trained him.
Olric glanced briefly toward Reyla and Amber.
They were watching.
Calm.
Unbothered.
As if this outcome didn't surprise them at all.
Olric straightened again.
Confidence returned to his expression.
"Alright," he said smoothly. "But this feels unfair to you."
He adjusted his stance.
"I'll accept defeat if you manage to land a single clean hit."
He was certain.
Three years of structured training.
Proper forms.
Formal sparring.
He could subdue Aleck within five strikes.
Aleck simply nodded.
No anger.
No reaction to the provocation.
Just focus.
Seeing Aleck still standing, Olric's eyes sharpened.
Without warning, he lunged forward.
His fists came fast.
Sharper.
Heavier.
Less restrained than before.
Aleck reacted on instinct.
Partial resonance coated his body again, thin and unstable.
He slipped past the first punch.
Deflected the second.
But Olric's rhythm was unpredictable.
One strike curved differently—
And it landed.
The impact sent Aleck flying.
Thump.
He hit the ground hard.
For a moment, the sky spun above him.
Get up.
He forced himself onto his feet again, regaining his stance.
Across from him, Olric was smiling.
Not mockery.
Not arrogance.
Something else.
Excitement.
For the first time in his life, he felt it.
At the manor, the soldiers were either far weaker than him—
Or overwhelmingly stronger.
There was never balance.
Never tension.
Never growth.
But here—
Here was someone close to his level.
Someone pushing him.
"Good," Olric said, his voice lighter now. "That would've been boring otherwise."
He stepped forward again.
This time, he unleashed a rapid barrage.
Aleck tightened his stance, trying to track the rhythm.
There—
A pattern.
He swung his leg upward in a sudden kick—
But Olric leapt backward, narrowly evading it.
The exchange continued.
Punch.
Step.
Strike.
Retreat.
Five minutes passed.
Neither fully dominating.
But Aleck's breathing grew ragged.
His vision blurred at the edges.
The strain of maintaining resonance was catching up to him.
His limbs felt heavy.
Too much…
Then—
An idea struck him.
Deliberately, Aleck dropped to one knee.
He coughed, saliva slipping from his lips.
From the outside, he looked spent.
Finished.
Olric's expression shifted.
He felt it too.
The collapse was near.
Satisfied, he released his own resonance coating.
There was no need anymore.
He stepped closer.
"You pushed yourself too hard," Olric said calmly, almost lecturing. "This is why control matters—"
Aleck's head was lowered.
His face hidden.
In one quick motion—
His fingers scooped sand and dust from the ground.
And flung it upward.
Olric, no longer coated in resonance, reacted a split second too late.
Dust hit his eyes.
He recoiled instinctively.
Aleck surged forward.
No resonance.
No technique.
Just raw effort.
He drove his fist forward with everything he had left.
Crack.
The punch connected squarely with Olric's forehead.
For a moment—
The entire backyard fell silent.
Aleck's fist landed.
But the punch lacked force.
It felt more like a tap than a strike.
Olric barely moved.
Before Aleck could even register it—
His body gave out.
He collapsed forward onto the dirt.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
Olric slowly sat down as well.
He exhaled deeply.
"Hah…"
A grin spread across his face.
"That was a good fight."
He looked at Aleck, who was sprawled on the ground, barely able to lift his head.
"You win," Olric added with a small laugh. "Let's fight like this again sometime."
Aleck's chest rose and fell rapidly.
"Hah… hah…"
He forced out words between breaths.
"We can still fight… without resonance… punches and kicks only…"
Olric blinked.
For a second—
He forgot why he had come here.
The apology.
The probation.
The pride.
All of it faded.
Only the thrill of the fight remained.
"…Fine."
Both of them pushed themselves up again.
And started trading blows.
No resonance.
No strategy.
Just raw strength.
Punch.
Kick.
Block.
Miss.
They fought until their arms felt like stone.
Until their legs trembled.
Until neither could lift their fists anymore.
From the side, Reyla pinched the bridge of her nose.
"They're fighting again?" she muttered. "These damn kids…"
Amber, standing beside her, copied the gesture perfectly.
Reyla sighed.
"I have chores to finish before afternoon prayer. Ember, make sure they stop in half an hour."
Amber nodded solemnly.
Back in the dirt—
Both boys finally collapsed at the same time.
Flat on their backs.
Faces bruised.
Lips split.
Sweat and dust covering them completely.
Yet—
Both were smiling.
Olric turned his head slightly.
His voice was quiet now.
"…Father was right."
Aleck glanced at him.
"You can't judge someone… without spending time with them."
He stared at the sky.
Even though they had only fought—
He understood something.
Aleck wasn't weak.
He wasn't a monster.
He was stubborn.
Persistent.
And strangely honest.
Aleck rolled his head slightly toward him.
"…I accept your apology."
Olric didn't look at him.
But a small smile formed anyway.
In the market district of Embrek—
Near the old execution square—
A monkey darted through the streets.
It leapt onto a stall, snatched a bottle of expensive wine, and bolted.
"What the hell?!" the shop owner shouted. "That monkey just stole my best bottle!"
The guard outside jolted awake—
Too late.
The creature was already gone.
The monkey moved swiftly through alleyways, clutching the bottle carefully.
Not wildly.
Not like an animal.
Almost… deliberately.
It entered the forest.
Deeper.
Further.
Until it reached a concealed encampment.
Within a makeshift wooden shelter sat a large, obese man dressed in black from head to toe.
A massive weapon lay wrapped beside him.
Two monkeys hovered near him obediently.
The wine bottle was placed before him.
The man grinned.
"Ahhh… you got it."
He uncorked it and drank greedily.
"I could get used to this life."
The monkeys remained close.
Not wild.
Not chaotic.
Controlled.
He wiped his mouth.
"I wonder when Captain will arrive…"
His smile widened.
"And when the real mission begins."
He leaned back lazily.
"I can't wait to claim my trophy."
The forest grew quiet around him.
Too quiet.