Two years had passed since Ritsuka regressed.
By then, Touko no longer woke up every morning with a migraine. That alone counted as progress.
Ritsuka and Gudako had grown—physically a little, magically a lot. Their control over Sun Magecraft had stabilized. No more runaway surges. No more accidental scorch marks in the backyard.
Most importantly, they learned restraint.
And during one quiet afternoon, they learned something else.
Sun Magecraft didn't just enhance.
It could form.
Touko realized it first when she watched Ritsuka during training.
He stood still, eyes half-closed, breathing slow. The sunlight around him bent—not brightly, not violently—but deliberately. It gathered along his right hand.
Not a flare.
Not heat.
A shape.
A thin line of golden light stretched outward, sharpened, condensed—
—and became a blade.
It wasn't flashy. No explosions. No dramatic aura.
Just a sword made of sunlight, humming softly, stable enough to cast a shadow.
Touko stared.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Gudako tried immediately after.
Her result was… different.
Where Ritsuka's weapon was clean and narrow, Gudako's Sun Magecraft burst outward like a forge. Light wrapped around her arms, hardened, and—
—bang.
A pair of oversized gauntlets slammed into place, glowing like heated metal.
She laughed. "THIS is awesome!"
The ground cracked when she punched it.
Touko pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Of course," she muttered. "Sword boy and punch girl."
Ritsuka dismissed his blade with a thought. The light dispersed without resistance.
'So it really is like Projection,' he thought.
'But cleaner. No copying. No strain.'
Sun Magecraft didn't imitate weapons.
It remembered them.
That night, Touko wrote for hours.
Sun-forged constructs.
Sustained by intent.
Stronger at noon.
Stable if the image is simple.
Dangerous if imagination runs wild.
She underlined that last part twice.
A week later, Touko made her decision.
"We're doing this properly," she said, tossing two wrapped items onto the table.
Gudako ripped hers open immediately.
Gloves. Reinforced. Inscribed with channels that glowed faintly under sunlight.
Ritsuka opened his more carefully.
A sheath.
Empty—but wrong. Too light. Too quiet.
Touko leaned back in her chair. "Catalyst stabilizers. Not weapons. You'll make those yourselves."
Ritsuka nodded.
That was fine.
He already knew what he wanted.
That night, under the moonlight, he stood alone in the yard.
Sun Magecraft responded slower at night—but it still answered him.
He reached inward.
Not to a memory of a sword.
But to a feeling.
Weight. Balance. Trust.
Light formed.
Slowly.
Carefully.
A blade took shape—longer than before, brighter at the edge, faint runes flowing across its surface like breath.
Ritsuka exhaled.
'Not yet,' he thought.
'But someday.'
The sword vanished.
From somewhere beyond time, something watched.
And smiled.
Now compare their father's creation with Sun Mage craft.
They were not even close.
Massaru's mastery was in a league of its own. Ritsuka and Gudako could form weapons, yes, but they were clunky, slower, and every swing demanded thought. Massaru didn't even seem to think—he just acted. A sword became a spear mid-attack, a shield sprouted wings and shot forward, then reformed as a dagger before it even hit the ground. Every motion was fluid, precise, perfect.
Ritsuka ran a hand along the glowing blade in his palm. 'This is… what mastery actually looks like,' he thought. His weapon's form wavered slightly as he tried to stabilise it.
Gudako shot him a smirk, a spear of light in her hand. "Don't freeze, brother. You're thinking too much."
He gritted his teeth, watching Massaru's movements in his mind. He's not just fast—he's anticipatory. Every strike, every shift, every second was accounted for before it even happened. That was the difference.
Ritsuka tightened his grip. 'Then I'll learn it. Step by step.'
He shifted his Sun Magecraft, reshaping his blade, feeling the energy hum and pulse. Slowly, it stopped wavering.
"Better," Gudako said, tilting her head as her own weapon shimmered. "But still… I'm winning this round."
A faint smile tugged at Ritsuka's lips. Then I'll just have to keep catching up.
Behind them, the faint hum of sunlight lingered, a quiet reminder: weapons weren't just forged—they were mastered through experience, focus, and intent. And he had decades of knowledge from his past life to make up for the gap.
Masaru looked at his kid. "You, will one day reach my level of skill, until then, try and focus on your creation".
Ritsuka nodded, his small hands still glowing with Sun Magecraft energy. "Yes, Father," he said, though inside he thought, 'Not yet. But soon.'
Gudako crossed her arms, her spear of light wavering slightly as she smirked. "I don't need to reach your level to beat him," she muttered teasingly at her brother.
Massaru's eyes softened slightly, though the edge of his discipline remained. "Confidence is good," he said. "But control is better. Sun Magecraft obeys your mind. If your mind falters, your creation falters."
Ritsuka gritted his teeth, forcing his energy to steady. He focused, imagining a sword not just in form but in function, weight, balance, even the hum of energy running through it. Slowly, the weapon solidified, shimmering faintly.
"Better," Massaru nodded. "But it still lacks fluidity. Think less, feel more. Let the Sun guide your creation."
Gudako rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by her brother's struggle, and lifted her own weapon, trying to channel her Sun Magecraft in her usual wild, forceful way. But the blade wavered in her hands, showing the same problem Ritsuka faced: power without precision.
Ritsuka stole a glance at her, smirking slightly. Even she isn't perfect. Not unbeatable.
Massaru's voice cut through their thoughts. "Both of you—sunlight can give life, but it can also cut. Master both, and your weapons will become extensions of your will."
Ritsuka inhaled deeply. Extensions of my will…
He shifted the energy, feeling the warmth of the Sun Magecraft flow through him, reshaping the blade again. This time, it didn't tremble. It hummed, steady, alive.
He turned toward Gudako. "Ready for round two?"
She grinned, eyes sparkling. "Always."
And in that moment, the training truly began.
After a while training stopped
Gudako looked at Masaru. "Dad, was Karna like you?"
Masaru looked at her. "You mean my skill, no, no he wasn't". There was pause them. "He was way better, he was a worrier of the Age of Gods, we are his descendants in the age of men, mana is not that much anymore as it once was".
Ritsuka perked up at that, his small fists clenching. 'So that's why Father's teaching us… we're supposed to inherit something from him.'
Gudako tilted her head, curiosity shining through her usual bravado. "Wait… so we're like… tiny pieces of a god?"
Masaru chuckled, the sound low and steady, carrying both pride and caution. "Not tiny, not just pieces. Think of it as inheritance. Strength, skill, will… some of it lives in us. But the world has changed. You can't rely on raw power like Karna did. You must control it, guide it, make it yours."
Ritsuka nodded, eyes narrowing with determination. 'Control it, guide it… make it mine.'
Gudako, however, leaned forward, her tone more mischievous than serious. "So… does that mean I could punch through a mountain if I really tried?"
Masaru gave her a pointed look. "Yes… if you survive the recoil. And no, I won't let you test it on the house."
Ritsuka snorted, trying to hide a smile. 'Typical Gudako.'
Masaru's gaze softened as he looked at both his children. "Remember this—your strength is meaningless if you cannot wield it wisely. Karna's power was legendary, yes, but even he was bound by duty, honor, and timing. You two must learn all three before you can even think about surpassing me… or him."
Gudako rolled her eyes, muttering, "Sounds like a lot of work…"
Ritsuka simply clenched his fists tighter, his mind already racing ahead. I will surpass him. And then… I'll protect everyone I care about.
Masaru smiled faintly, seeing that spark in his son. "Good. That spark… it's what makes a warrior of the Sun."
Touko was sitting on the porch, as she was taking notes again.
Tokiko sat next to her, looking at her notes. "The amount of notes you're taking, I wonder if Ritsuka or Gudako is gonna pick you up in that habit?"
Touko tilted her head, pen pausing mid-stroke. ''It doesn't matter if they pick it up or not. I have to know exactly what they're doing, how they're thinking, how their Magecraft evolves. One mistake and it could undo everything.''
Tokiko smirked, folding her hands in her lap. ''You sound more like a military strategist than a Mage. Do you plan on interrogating them next?''
Touko's lips twitched into something like a smile. ''If I must. Observation is part of training. And besides… if I don't track their progress, who will?''
Tokiko shook her head, still amused. ''You really are obsessive, aren't you?''
''Call it thoroughness,'' Touko said simply, jotting down another line. ''These two aren't just any students. Their Sun Magecraft is unique. They think differently. They feel differently. I need to understand it all.''
Tokiko glanced toward the training field where Ritsuka and Gudako were sparring, Sunlight glinting off their movements. ''Well, at least someone is learning fast. Look at them—focused, controlled. Though… I swear Gudako's grin gets bigger every time she hits something.''
Touko sighed, tapping her pen against the notebook. ''Yes… that one's energy is unpredictable. But controlled unpredictability can be honed into a weapon. That's what I need to measure.''
''And Ritsuka?'' Tokiko asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
''Calculated, precise, patient,'' Touko said, watching her notes reflect the numbers and sketches of his movements. ''He doesn't waste energy. Every action has intent. He's… too careful for his own good sometimes, but that's his strength. I need to see if he can break that habit without breaking himself.''
Tokiko chuckled softly. ''Sounds like both of them are going to give you headaches—just in different ways.''
Touko's gaze never left the field. ''I welcome headaches if it means they'll become weapons I can understand.''
The sunlight shifted, falling across the twins as they moved, casting long shadows on the ground. And somewhere in the quiet, Touko's pen scratched across the paper, capturing every flicker, every pulse of power.
Meanwhile, in a quiet chamber deep within the Vatican, a man sat in contemplation. His hands rested on the arms of a high-backed chair, eyes closed, lips moving silently in prayer or thought—no one could tell.
A soft click echoed through the room, and a figure materialized in front of him.
The man opened one eye, calm yet piercing. ''Yes?''
The figure was clad in black from head to toe, a sleek body suit clinging to their form, a silver cross hanging prominently from their neck. Their face was hidden behind a mask that reflected the candlelight.
''Something… unusual is happening with the God Family,'' the masked figure said, voice low but tense.
The man leaned back, steepling his fingers. ''The God Family…'' he murmured, his tone almost reverent. ''You mean the bloodlines tied to demi-gods, the ones we've monitored for centuries.''
The figure nodded. ''Yes. Their children… their descendants. There's a disturbance. Magic flows differently. Suncraft, specifically, seems… amplified. And someone—one of their own—is acting outside the expected parameters.''
The man's eyes narrowed, glinting with quiet calculation. ''Parameters are guidelines, not laws. Yet if a member of that lineage has begun to exceed them… it would explain why the Church's instruments have detected fluctuations in mana and divine resonance.''
He rose, robes rustling softly, walking to a stained-glass window that painted the room in fractured light. ''Tell me,'' he said, turning sharply, voice now sharper, commanding. ''Is this… a threat, or merely… evolution?''
The masked figure hesitated for a moment, then removed their mask, revealing a young but severe face framed by silver hair. ''At this point… we do not know.''
The man's lips twitched, half a smile, half a frown. ''Interesting…"
A hush fell over the chamber, punctuated only by the flickering of candle flames and the distant echo of bells. Somewhere far away, threads of fate had begun to twist, unseen—and the Church knew, once again, they were about to play catch-up.
He spoke again, quieter this time, almost to himself: ''Prepare the archives. Prepare the watchers. This… will be a long observation.''
The figure bowed. ''Understood.''
And as they departed, the man remained by the window, staring at the horizon where light met shadow, a storm of divine and human calculation already forming in his mind.
The man's gaze lingered on the stained-glass window, the fragmented light dancing across his features. A low chuckle escaped him, almost amused, almost foreboding.
''Looks like things are gonna get very interesting,'' he muttered, voice calm but laced with anticipation.
He folded his hands behind his back, tilting his head as if listening to a symphony only he could hear—the subtle hum of mana, the distant echoes of events yet to unfold, the quiet stirrings of a world about to change.
''Let them come,'' he whispered to the empty chamber. ''Let them test their strength, their wit… and their lineage. I've waited long enough for this.''
The candles flickered once, then steadied, as though agreeing. Outside, the city lay serene, unaware that the threads of fate had begun to tangle in ways no one could yet predict.
To be continued
Hope people like this Ch and give me Power stones and enjoy