Cyan pushed himself upright and sat firmly on the ground. The grass bent beneath him, damp and cold. Moonlight washed over his face, catching the edge of his black hair and the sharp gleam of his red eye. His earring shifted with a faint metallic sound.
He sat at the edge of the cliff and reached inside his clothes.A thin neck chain slid into his palm and rested against his chest.
He stared at it.
His fingers slowly curled.
The chain disappeared into his fist.
Cyan stood.
"I already have a mom," he said.
He swung his arm forward, intent clear in the motion.
But the chain never left his hand.
His fingers refused to open.
They trembled instead.
"…So why can't I just throw it away?" he thought.
His face didn't twist with anger or grief.
No smile.
No tears.
Just a quiet frown.
A faint rustle came from the grass behind him.
Cyan turned.
Aris was approaching. Her heavy armor landed with slow, steady thuds—measured, controlled. She stopped beside him and sat down without asking. Her presence alone felt grounding.
She glanced at his clenched fist.
"What was that just now?" she asked.
Cyan looked away.
"Aris… I don't know what to do," he said quietly.
The words barely carried.
She studied him for a moment. Then she placed a hand on his shoulder—firm, warm.
"You don't need to do anything," she said. "Just talk."
Cyan hesitated.
Then he exhaled.
The words spilled out—about the council, his mother, the things he said too sharply and the things he never said at all. He didn't look at her while he spoke.
Aris didn't interrupt.
She listened.
When he finally stopped, the tight pressure in his chest felt lighter.
She pulled him into a brief hug.
"You're not alone," she said. "And you'll get through this. I know you will."
Cyan closed his eyes. The scent of damp earth and night air steadied his breathing.
Aris stood.
Moonlight caught her face as she unsheathed her sword. The blade slid free with a sharp whisper that cut through the silence. She raised it and lightly pressed the flat against Cyan's forehead.
"How about a duel," she said, eyes locked onto his, "to burn off that anger?"
Cyan stiffened.
His gaze flicked to the blade—then back to her.
"…No," he said after a pause. "I'll pass."
He stepped past her, gravel crunching under his boots.
"I should apologize," he added. "Now."
"That's a bad idea."
He stopped. "Why?"
"You broke them," Aris said plainly. "Both of them."
His shoulders sagged.
"She hates me."
Aris shook her head. "She's hurt. That's not hate."
She placed a hand on his back. "Give them space. Just for tonight."
"…Okay."
The wind brushed past them.
Aris smiled faintly. "Then—about that duel."
Cyan hesitated.
Then he bowed his head.
"…please."
Her smile widened.
Moments later, they leapt from the cliff and vanished into the trees. Branches blurred past as they moved swiftly, landing without sound.
They reached a wide clearing—round, empty, silent.
An arena.
They faced each other.
The forest went still.
Aris unsheathed her sword fully.
Cyan froze.
Then he noticed.
White scabbard. White hilt. A blue, single-edged blade—light, sharp, fast.
"…That's not mythril," he thought. "Too bright."
He admired.
Then realized.
"I don't have a weapon," Cyan said.
Aris met his gaze.
"A real fight won't wait for you to be ready," she said. "If your enemy has a blade and you don't—do you die?"
"No."
"Then what?" she asked.
"I fight," Cyan said. "With my hands. My legs. My body."
He prepared his battle stand.
Hand to hand
His eyes hardened.
"And if that's not enough," he added quietly, "I'll use my soul."
As Cyan spoke, he dropped into a fighting stance, fists clenched, muscles coiled.
Aris watched him closely. Her sword angled forward, its tip aimed at his chest.
She nodded once.
"Good," she said. "Now show me your resolve."
The forest fell silent.
Only the faint rustle of her cape stirred the air.
A single drop of water slid from a leaf and struck the ground.
Cyan lunged.
He burst forward in a flash, his fist driving toward Aris's stomach—tight, controlled, packed with intent. The wind spiraled around the strike, shrieking as his punch tore through the air.
"Too slow."
Aris vanished.
In the blink of an eye, she disappeared, leaving only a fading blur. She reappeared behind him in a flash-step so fast it felt unreal.
Her fist slammed into Cyan's spine.
The blow hurled him forward. He crashed into a tree, bark exploding outward as branches snapped and the trunk groaned under the impact. Pain ripped through his body, but he refused to stay down.
Cyan pushed off the tree, yanking a thick fallen branch free. He charged back in, speed surging as he swung the log like a blade.
The wood howled through the air.
branch and Steel met.
Aris blocked with ease, her sword knocking the branch aside. In the same motion, she twisted her wrist and stripped it from his hands.
The hilt of her sword drove into his stomach.
The sound was brutal—solid, heavy—like a hammer smashing into wood.
Cyan doubled over, breath exploding from his lungs. Before he could recover, Aris spun and delivered a sharp roundhouse kick to his face.
The impact sent him flying.
He twisted midair, forcing his body to obey, flipping twice before landing hard but upright. Dirt skidded beneath his boots. His vision swam, but his eyes burned with stubborn fire.
He wiped his nose.
Blood soaked the bandage wrapped around his hand, the metallic scent filling his nostrils.
Strong… she's too strong.
Aris noticed the hesitation flicker across his face. Her expression hardened, eyes blazing.
"Never fear an opponent," she said. "No matter how strong."
She stepped forward.
"For your age, you're already among the strongest of your peers. Your body has matured beyond my expectations." Her gaze sharpened. "In raw strength, you may even surpass me."
She paused.
"But what you lack is battle experience."
Her presence pressed down on him like a weight.
"Surpass that," she continued, "and you may become one of the most formidable foes I've ever seen." Her voice softened slightly. "You'll never know your limits unless you test them. Land a single hit on me, and I'll teach you one of my favorite skill."
"You know... that kind of promise could get you hurt" cyan breathed.
Aris, silent.
She raised her sword again.
"Stand up. Give me everything."
Cyan clenched his fists.
Giving up had never been an option—especially not when death was real. Still, being overwhelmed so completely made him feel like a child taking his first steps.
He straightened.
His eyes ignited.
White light flooded his gaze, edged with a faint blue glow, cold and lunar. The air around him trembled.
"Is that what you want?" Cyan said. His voice was calm—too calm. Sharp and cold, like winter steel.
"Fine. I'll fight my way."
A thin smile formed.
"Try not to die on me."
The forest seemed to recoil.
The air thickened, heavy with pressure. Aris shifted her stance, instincts screaming as the scent of damp earth and ozone filled her lungs. Her movements became fluid and precise, like water flowing over stone. Moonlight spilled through the trees, stretching shadows across the ground.
Then Cyan vanished.
His form dissolved into a blur as he moved through the forest, striking from every angle. Blades collided in rapid bursts, steel screaming as sparks exploded into the night.
Aris blocked them all.
She couldn't see him—but she felt him. Every instinct warned her as attacks came from blind spots, relentless and fast. Her sword moved on pure experience, a flawless defense honed through countless battles.
Cyan was everywhere.
A blur of motion. A ghost with burning eyes.
Iron clashed against iron, the sound ringing sharp and constant. Sweat, leather, and blood filled the air—the scent of a real fight.
"Iron…?" Aris thought as she deflected another strike. "But what is he using?"
Cyan's lungs burned. Adrenaline roared through his veins.
I can win.
He pushed harder, faster, every movement sharpened toward a single goal.
He didn't notice Aris watching closely.
Didn't realize—
Every step, every strike, every flaw—
Was being studied.
ÉND OF CHAPTER 7