When Jade finally emerged from the Royal Medical Office, the palace grounds were already cloaked in deep, impenetrable darkness. Only the soft glow of lanterns at distant corridors flickered faintly, swallowed by the vast expanse of night.
Above him, the full moon hung low and luminous, casting a pale silver light over the silent roofs and deserted courtyards. For a brief, almost disorienting moment, that radiant glow overlapped in his mind with the memory of Queen Genie's smile—gentle yet resolute, bright like the moon cutting through the dark.
'By now, Her Majesty must have finished the assembly…' Jade thought, his gaze fixed on the unwavering moon. 'She must've been met with another storm of difficulties the moment she returned to the palace.'
He knew well that as soon as she had sent him to the Royal Medical Office, the Queen had summoned the Grand Assembly without hesitation. No doubt it was to finally address the unresolved issue of Lee Jan, which had remained untouched due to the sudden invasion from the As Nation.
Thinking of how the Queen must have pressed forward with that burden for his sake stirred something fierce and tender within him. Guilt tangled with gratitude, rising in his chest like an unstoppable tide.
'And yet I…'
A bitter smile crossed his lips. He couldn't help but recall his own childish resentment, the moments when he had misjudged her, when he had let his own hurt cloud the truth of her intentions. How foolish I was…
'Tomorrow—I will go to her chambers with the military report. And this time… I'll thank her properly.'
The thought alone made his heart ache in a strange, sweet way. Her face lingered before him as vividly as if she stood right there, smiling faintly in that graceful way of hers.
Jade's footsteps echoed softly across the empty courtyard, accompanied only by the rustling of night winds threading through the eaves. Lost in thoughts of her, he almost didn't notice the faint shift in the air until instinct halted him mid-step.
'Someone…?'
At the far edge of the grounds, a lone silhouette moved against the backdrop of night. The figure's sword traced arcs of cold steel through the darkness, cutting clean lines with practiced, deliberate movements.
'At this hour?'
Jade's hand moved instinctively to the sword at his waist as he silently closed the distance between himself and the figure. The night was too still, the sound of steel cutting air too deliberate to be mere coincidence. His steps were light, deliberate, his eyes sharp.
But before he could speak, the figure called out first.
"Minister."
The familiar voice cut through the darkness, steady but respectful.
As the moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the young man's features, Jade let out a slow breath and eased his grip on his sword. It was Wanan. The boy quickly lowered the blade he had been swinging with steady, disciplined arcs.
"What are you doing here at this hour?" Jade asked, stepping closer, his tone somewhere between curious and gently reproachful.
"I was getting used to the new sword issued by Hana," Wanan replied, his gaze dropping fondly to the blade in his hand.
His fingers brushed the hilt with quiet reverence, as though touching a long-awaited prize.
Even in the pale moonlight, Jade could see the gleam of fresh metal—clean, untarnished, a weapon yet to taste true blood. The sword, still bearing the scent of the forge, felt like a symbol of something greater: belonging, recognition, hope.
Jade found himself smiling faintly. There was something about Wanan's earnestness, his sincerity, that stirred a warm, protective fondness in his chest. Barely past twenty, yet carrying the weight of someone who had endured far more than his years should demand.
How much hardship must this young man have endured while living under the oppressive shadow of the Ash Kingdom?
A pang of pity swept over him, but he pushed it aside with a composed expression.
"You must be exhausted from the long journey," Jade said quietly. "You should get some rest now."
But Wanan only tightened his grip around the sword, his jaw set with quiet determination.
"I'd like to practice a bit more before going in."
His gaze lifted to meet Jade's, clear and steady despite the exhaustion shadowing his eyes.
"To be honest… after training with the Hana warriors today, I realized just how far behind I really am."
There was no bitterness in his voice—only raw honesty.
"If I rest when everyone else is asleep, I won't catch up quickly enough." With a determined gaze, Wanan answered resolutely, his young face illuminated faintly by the moonlight.
But Jade's voice, steady and commanding, cut through the night like tempered steel.
"Tomorrow morning, we'll be starting group matches to reorganize the military inside the palace. If you don't rest properly now, it'll only make things harder for you. Go back for tonight."
The order was firm, final.
But Wanan didn't budge. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his new sword as he straightened his back.
"I'll just practice a little longer. Don't worry about me, Commander."
That stubbornness—the fierce desire to prove himself, to close the gap between who he was and who he wanted to be—was written all over the boy's face.
Jade let out a quiet sigh.
"If you insist on swinging that sword a little longer," he said slowly, folding his arms, "then swing it at me."
Wanan froze. His eyes blinked wide, disbelief flashing across his features.
"W-what?"
"I'll spar with you." Jade's tone was calm, as if he were offering something as mundane as tea, not a duel beneath the moonlight. "Isn't it proper training you're after?"
Wanan opened his mouth, then closed it, visibly torn between excitement and terror. "B-but… how could I—? You're—"
"You're wasting time." Jade rolled his shoulders slightly, the faint motion whispering of restrained strength. "Draw."
It took Wanan a heartbeat to understand that the offer was real, that this wasn't some idle test or punishment, but a chance—a gift.
His grip on the sword tightened, knuckles whitening as he lifted the blade to his chest in a formal salute.
"Then… I'll do my best."
Jade watched him with unreadable eyes. The young man's posture was good, but his right hand trembled slightly, betraying his nerves. Understandable. After all, he now stood across from the legendary commander, a man whose name alone had silenced Ash Kingdom battalions.
But that trembling wasn't just fear—it was will. The will to stand before something greater, even if his legs shook beneath him.
Under the indifferent gaze of the full moon, the two figures faced each other—one seasoned and steady, the other raw and burning with youthful determination.
Jade didn't draw his sword yet. He simply lowered his center of gravity, sharp eyes focused on the boy in front of him.
"Good," Jade murmured. "Now, come at me."
Wanan could hardly believe it.
Here he was, standing with a sword in hand, facing him—the man whose name he'd heard whispered like legend, whose feats in battle were spoken of in hushed awe.
Jade.
His right hand trembled around the hilt of his blade. No matter how tightly he gripped it, the faint quiver betrayed his nerves.
Yet Jade simply stood there, calm as still water, his gaze unwavering, as if patiently waiting for Wanan to make his move.
Biting down on his fear, Wanan inhaled sharply and drew his sword back, steadying his form as best he could. Then, with a shout, he lunged straight toward Jade.
For a brief second, the air itself seemed to tense as Wanan's blade arced downward, aiming for the left shoulder of the man before him.
But Jade moved.
With the barest flicker of motion, his sword flashed from its sheath like a streak of lightning, slicing upward with impossible speed.
Clang!
The impact reverberated through the courtyard. Wanan's sword was torn from his grasp, spinning through the air before clattering uselessly to the ground.
It was over in the blink of an eye.
Wanan stood frozen, staring at his weapon lying several paces away, his mind struggling to catch up to what had just happened.
Jade had deflected his all-out strike effortlessly, his precision absolute, his speed beyond anything Wanan had imagined.
Breathless, Wanan lifted his gaze.
Even now, Jade was rolling his shoulder slightly, as though easing the tension of an old wound.
"M-Minister…" Wanan finally managed, his voice small.
"Well done," Jade said simply.
His tone wasn't mocking—it was sincere, calm, steady.
"But your precision and speed still need refinement. If you continue to train with us, you'll become an excellent warrior."
Wanan dropped his head low in shame.
"Y-you're being too kind… I'm still far too lacking."
Jade gave a small shake of his head, a faint smile curving his lips.
"Everyone is lacking," he said softly. "What matters is whether you accept your shortcomings with humility—and strive to fill them. The fact that you recognize your own flaws means you already have the heart of a true warrior."
A quiet, breathless laugh escaped from Wanan's lips, tinged with disbelief and something deeper—relief, perhaps, or wonder.
"It feels strange… to hear that from you, Minister. With your skills, I mean. In Ash Kingdom, we were taught only to grow stronger to conquer… to crush. No one ever said anything like that. Honestly, it makes me question everything I've believed up until now."
He let his head drop once more, as though the weight of his past threatened to crush him.
Jade was silent for a beat, then spoke in a low, steady voice. "Do you know why we wield the sword?"
The question made Wanan glance up, his brow furrowed. It was so simple… yet he sensed it wasn't.