Sham gave me one last grin before turning away, his sword resting casually against his shoulder. "Skra-meet you again," he called over his shoulder, his tone light and confident as ever. Without waiting for a reply, he rejoined the others near the main clearing.
I was about to walk toward Charlie when Vaela approached me. She stopped a few steps away, her arms folded loosely across her chest, her expression calm but assessing.
"Arthur," she said, tilting her head slightly, "skra-nice fight."
"Thank you, Sister Vaela," I replied, inclining my head respectfully.
She studied me for a moment, her sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe as if reassessing something.
Then the corner of her mouth twitched.
"Skra-think," she said slowly, tilting her head, "you not need my help now."
I blinked. "What?"
She folded her arms, clearly enjoying herself.
"Skra-strong now. Beat Sham again. Maybe skra-not need sister."
A grin spread across my face. "I think so too—"
The rest of my sentence never came out.
Her fist drove straight into my stomach. All the air left my lungs in an instant. I doubled over with a groan, clutching my abdomen as pain exploded through me.
"Ugh—!"
She clicked her tongue lightly, completely unfazed. "Skra-later," she said casually, already turning away.
Charlie and I left the training ground not long after. Behind us, the sounds of clashing practice weapons and shouted instructions gradually faded into the distance as we made our way home.
For a while, we walked in comfortable silence.
Then Charlie spoke.
"You fought well, young master," he said, his tone measured but sincere, his hands folded neatly behind his back as always. "Seeing how Sham cornered you so many times, I thought you might lose."
I turned my head toward him, raising an eyebrow with a faint grin. "Charlie, do you not have faith in me?"
He nearly stumbled over his own steps. "No, no, young master. I have complete faith in you. I simply thought… thought…" He struggled to find the right words, clearly concerned about offending me.
I could not hold back my laughter. "It is fine, Charlie. I was teasing you."
He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, though the faint flush on his face gave him away. "Even so, young master, you handled yourself well. You used your ability pretty wisely. You observed and waited for your chance."
A small smile lingered on his face as we continued walking.
We reached home not long after. The wooden structure stood as it always had, wrapped around the massive trunk of the great tree that rose through its center. The familiar sight grounded me immediately. The air inside was cooler, touched by the faint scent of bark and still water from the pond just outside.
Without wasting time, I stepped inside and moved toward the base of the tree. Its rough bark pressed solid and unmoving behind me as I lowered myself to the wooden floor, crossing my legs in a steady posture.
The memory of the duel still lingered in my thoughts. The ringing clash of steel, the roar of the crowd, and the sharp, decisive moment when the blade stopped at his throat.
I closed my eyes.
Excitement was temporary. Pride was fleeting. If I allowed myself to dwell on it too long, it would dull my edge rather than sharpen it.
Slowly, I steadied my breathing and began drawing in nature energy. It flowed toward me in gentle currents, slipping into my body and circulating through familiar pathways. The presence at my forehead remained calm, the black dot stable and quiet as I settled into cultivation once more.
After some time, I slowly opened my eyes and released a deep breath, allowing the energy I had gathered to settle evenly within me.
I turned my head slightly.
The serpent egg lay beside the trunk of the great tree, exactly where I had placed it months ago. Slender beams of sunlight slipped through the gaps in the roof where the tree pierced upward into the sky. The light fell in thin streaks across the egg's scaled surface, painting it in shifting gold.
Under that glow, the patterns along the shell seemed to move faintly, as if something within responded to the warmth. The subtle ridges and markings caught the light in a way that made the egg appear almost alive, breathing quietly beneath its hardened surface.
I leaned forward slightly and reached out, placing my palm gently against the surface of the egg.
Warm.
Seven months had passed since I had carried it back from the forest. Seven months of cultivation, training, and hunts. Through all of it, the egg had remained here beneath the great tree, silent and patient.
Every day, I touched it, and every day that steady warmth answered me. It had never cooled, never weakened, never felt hollow or lifeless beneath my palm. This egg is undeniably alive. I let my hand linger there for a few moments, listening to the quiet stillness of the house around me, the faint rustle of leaves above where the great tree pierced the roof. Yet despite that reassuring warmth, one question returned to my mind again and again.
When would it finally hatch?
Before I could sink deeper into that thought, soft footsteps approached from behind me. Charlie stepped into view carrying a wooden bowl, thin streams of steam rising from its surface. The warm aroma drifted through the air, grounding me and pulling my attention away from the egg.
"You should eat," he said gently.
I withdrew my hand and accepted the bowl. The heat from it contrasted with the steady warmth of the egg I had just touched. I began eating slowly, savoring the familiar taste, though my gaze occasionally drifted back toward the shell resting beside the tree.
My thoughts wandered between the morning's duel, the steady progress in my cultivation, and the quiet presence of the life sealed within that egg.
A firm knock against the wooden door cut through my thoughts and broke the quiet rhythm of the house.
Charlie paused mid-bite, set his bowl aside without complaint, and rose to answer it. I remained seated for a moment, watching as he crossed the room and pulled the door open.
Vaela stood outside. She did not wait to be invited in.
"Skra-Arthur where?" she asked as she stepped inside.
"I am here," I replied. "Elder Sister Vaela, what is the matter?"
Her eyes settled on me, steady and direct. "Elder Dravik. Skra-want you."
My brows knit together. "Elder Dravik? Why? We are following the monthly hunt schedule he set. Did something happen?"
She gave a small shake of her head. "Skra-not know. But skra-think about duel."
"The duel?" I echoed, caught off guard. "Why would he care about my duel?"
Elder Dravik was not the type to concern himself with minor disputes between youths. At least, that was what I believed.
Still, there was no use standing here and guessing.
I quickly finished the remaining food in my bowl and set it aside. "Fine," I said, brushing my hands off. "Let us go."
Charlie fell in step behind us as Vaela led the way through the village. The late afternoon light stretched across the narrow paths, casting long shadows between the wooden houses. A few villagers glanced at us as we passed, but none spoke. There was a quiet weight in the air, as if word of the duel had traveled faster than I expected.
We soon arrived at Elder Dravik's house.
As always, he sat in the open yard before it, large hands working patiently with thick threads of fiber. The woven material rested across his broad knees as he guided each strand with surprising precision. Despite the size of his fingers, every movement was controlled and deliberate. He did not rush. He never rushed.
We stopped a respectful distance away and waited.
The only sounds were the faint pull of thread sliding against thread and the distant hum of village life. Neither Vaela nor Charlie spoke. I stood still, unsure whether I should announce our presence, but instinct told me not to interrupt.
After a few moments, he tied off the final knot and examined his work in silence. Only then did he lift his head.
His eyes found me immediately. The look he gave was steady and unreadable.
Why is he looking at me like that?
The question rose instinctively in my mind as his gaze remained fixed on me without wavering.
I glanced briefly at Vaela and Charlie standing beside me. Neither of them seemed troubled. Both maintained their usual composure.
After what felt like an unusually long silence, Elder Dravik finally spoke.
"I heard you won the duel against Sham."
So it truly was about that. "Yes, Elder," I answered, lowering my head slightly in respect. "I was just fortunate."
He continued to watch me, his expression unchanged. Then he gave a small shake of his head.
"In battle," he said slowly, "whether it is luck or skill, a win is a win."
His voice was steady and firm, carrying the weight of experience rather than praise.