Twenty days of training ended the same way every session did.
Arin lay on his back, staring at the sky, chest heaving. Byukoten stood over him without a scratch, arms folded, laughing softly.
"You keep losing," Byukoten said. "So tell me—why do you want to get strong?"
Arin clenched his fist against the dirt. "I want to put a stop to all of this."
Byukoten's smile faded, just slightly. "You saw their strength before, didn't you? Vampire nobles aren't even their main fighters, and they still surpass almost every human."
"I lost the people I loved because of them," Arin said, forcing himself upright. "I've come too far to turn back now."
Byukoten studied him for a long moment, then
smiled again—sharper this time.
"Then you'll train properly. Tomorrow, you fight a drake."
Arin laughed, certain it was a joke.
It wasn't.
The next day, Byukoten lured a drake into the clearing—a young dragon, small by draconic standards, but massive to a human. Flames leaked from its jaws as it sniffed the air.
Arin froze.
Without warning, Byukoten grabbed Hanase and Neblaheim and leapt away.
"Defeat it," he called out, "if you want to see your friends again."
Panic surged through Arin's chest. His hands trembled—but he tightened his grip on his sword.
The drake inhaled.
Fire erupted toward him.
"Ice Wall!"
A slab of ice formed just in time, scorching under the flames. Arin kicked off the wall and leapt upward—but the drake's tail smashed into him midair, slamming him into the ground. The creature lunged, jaws wide.
Arin rolled and hurled a fireball into its face. Smoke exploded outward, buying him seconds. He darted behind the drake and formed ice spears in the air—
Too slow.
The drake leapt, spewing fire. Arin launched the spears directly into the flame, shattering it apart, then rode the momentum upward. Bursting through the smoke, he drove his blade into the drake's eye and landed on its back.
The drake roared and twisted violently, throwing him off. It charged, skull lowered.
Arin formed ice walls beneath his feet, leaping from one to the next to escape—but the drake adjusted mid-charge and snapped down hard.
Pain exploded through Arin's arm.
His sword slipped from his fingers.
He staggered back, blood dripping, breath ragged. No sword. No time.
He raised his remaining hand. "Inferno."
Flames erupted into the drake's eyes. It shrieked, blinded. Arin slid beneath its body and summoned ice spears again, driving them upward—
The drake sensed him.
At the last instant, Arin's shireyukoka flared. The world slowed. He twisted aside, the strike missing by a breath.
He drove his fist upward into the drake's jaw and vaulted away
The drake lunged blindly.
This time, Arin didn't retreat.
He stepped sideways, seized his fallen sword with his good hand, and swung.
The head hit the ground before the body did.
Silence fell.
Byukoten reappeared beside the corpse, expression unreadable. Then he smiled.
"Tonight," he said, "we eat dragon meat."
"Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten the emotion he should have clung to."