Music for chapter: Phaeleh - Breathe in Air (feat. Soundmouse)
The sky above Kirin was painted in soft blue and gold. Students moved through the courtyards with purpose, some in full sparring gear, others with books clutched tight to their chests. The storm had passed, but the memory lingered.
On the edge of the training field, Aullie leaned against a railing, the bronze lockpick turning between his fingers.
"Hey," Haru called as he jogged over, followed by Aki and Sora.
Aullie straightened. "Been thinking."
Aki raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous."
He smirked. "We've been through a lot lately. I thought that after this next stretch of training, we could maybe take a short trip, a few days back home. Catch our breath."
Sora's expression softened instantly. "You want us to go together?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Visit our families and clear our heads, remind ourselves what we're fighting for."
Aki grinned. "Mom's cooking and my old dog? I'm in."
Haru folded his arms. "As long as I don't have to explain why I haven't written back to my grandfather. Again."
"Deal," Aullie said.
They clasped hands briefly, and it was decided. One more month of hellish training first.
Koizumi limped to the center of the room and tapped a runic glyph on the wall, etched into stone like it had been burned there.
"You've all fought beasts by now," he began, voice gravelly. "Some of you even survived your first demon. Good. That means you're not completely useless."
The room was silent. No one laughed.
"Let's get something straight, demons aren't like the other monsters out there. They're not wild. They're not stupid. And they're definitely not born often; when they are born, they stay, forever. Unless someone puts their head on the ground or yanks out the core that keeps them standing."
He raised a finger, ticking off points.
"They don't age. They don't weaken. They regenerate like it's a bad habit."
He gestured to the diagram of a demon core, a sphere the size of a golf ball, glinting crimson in the center of a translucent humanoid body.
"This is the only way to kill one, if decapitation fails. The demon core. But don't think it's easy since they can move it around inside their bodies. Can't do it mid-fight, it takes prep. But if you think it'll always be near the chest, you're already dead."
He turned, activating a new projection behind him. Five silhouettes appeared, each labeled with glowing kanji.
"Grunts. Seventy percent of all demonkind. Human-sized. They can't use affinities. Just raw Aether pumped into their muscles. Fast. Strong. One minute and they'll regrow a severed limb. They will tear you in half if you get cocky."
The next image shifted, broader shoulders, glowing veins.
"Elites. Big as boulders. Tougher skin than reinforced earth armor, cutting through is like trying to punch through diamond. They've got Fire, Earth, Wind, or Water affinities. Short-range, but they can coat their limbs in it and break you in half. Limb regeneration? Forty seconds. They don't stop."
Next silhouette, sleek, athletic, but terrifying in scale and posture.
"Generals. Think Olympic wrestlers. Can use nearly any affinity except Void, Space, and Time. They prefer to tear you apart up close, but don't be surprised if they throw lightning while they do it. Claws. Horns. Smart. Regrow limbs in twenty seconds. Faster and stronger than anything you're ready for."
The image twisted again, into something lean, poised, and deadly.
"Commanders. Four percent. Built for killing. They can use any affinity we've seen, including the rare ones. They fight like six-bead dual jewelmasters, only stronger, faster, and more vicious. They recover lost limbs in under ten seconds. These are the ones that wipe out squads before anyone knows they're there."
And finally, the room dimmed as the last silhouette rose, taller than the rest. Almost regal. Skin like stone or shadow.
"Leaders," Koizumi said quietly. "Less than one percent. We call them calamities, they don't have horns, they don't need claws, just power, raw and terrifying. Time and Space affinities are possible. The leader of the first invasion used Time. One of his abilities? Rewind. He could reset himself and everything around him five seconds back, Every wound healed, every mistake erased. We only killed him because Forrest Diechman used Void. An attack so potent it turned the bastard into particles. But the cost?"
He didn't say. He didn't have to.
Koizumi stepped back into the center of the room. His eyes scanned the class like he was weighing each of their chances.
"Demons don't fight fair. They don't retreat. And they never come without reason."
Then, softer.
"If they're already scouting again… it means they're preparing."
The training yard was a mess of clashing steel and shouted instructions. Three different sparring matches were happening at once, and the afternoon sun was turning everyone's practice gear into personal saunas.
Aullie adjusted his grip on the practice sword, wiping sweat from his forehead with his free hand. Across from him, Sora was stretching her shoulders, looking annoyingly cool despite the heat.
"Ready to get your ass handed to you?" she asked, not quite managing to hide her grin.
"Big words for someone who's about to buy me lunch," he shot back, settling into his stance.
"Oh, we're betting now?" She raised an eyebrow. "Fine. When I win, you're getting me that expensive ramen from the place off campus."
"When you win? I like the confidence." He circled left, testing her reaction. "But when I win, you're buying lunch and doing my combat theory homework."
"Dream on."
She moved first, coming in fast with a overhead strike that he barely caught on his blade. The impact rattled through his arms, she was stronger than she looked.
"Still telegraphing," she said, already flowing into her next attack.
"Still showing off," he replied, sidestepping and trying to catch her off-balance.
But she wasn't there anymore. The space where she'd been standing rippled like heat waves, and suddenly she was behind him, practice sword aimed at his ribs.
"Shit" He spun around just in time to block, the blades meeting with a sharp ring.
"Language, Aullie," she teased, pressing forward. "What would your mother think?"
"She'd think you fight dirty." He pushed back, trying to create some distance, but Sora was already moving again.
Their swords met in a rapid exchange, strike, parry, counter, dodge. Aullie could feel his heart hammering, partly from exertion, partly from the way Sora moved like she was dancing instead of fighting.
"You know," he said between strikes, "most people don't look this good when they're trying to murder me."
She laughed, a genuine sound that made him lose focus for just a second. That was all she needed, her practice sword tapped his ribs, right where his real injury had been.
"Point to me," she said, stepping back with a satisfied smirk. "That's lunch."
"Lucky shot." But he was grinning too.
"Luck had nothing to do with it." She shifted her stance, ready for round two. "I've been watching you fight for months. You always drop your left shoulder when you're about to go for a big swing."
"Do not."
"Do too. You did it three times just now."
He stared at her. "Have you been studying me?"
"Maybe." The tips of her ears went pink. "It's called tactical observation."
"Uh-huh. And does this tactical observation extend to other areas of my life?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." She lunged forward again, but this time he was ready.
He sidestepped, grabbed her sword arm, and spun her around until they were practically dancing, her back against his chest, both their weapons pointing harmlessly at the ground.
"Got you," he murmured near her ear.
She leaned back against him for just a moment, and he could feel her heart racing. "Do you?"
The question hung in the air between them, loaded with meaning that had nothing to do with sparring.
From across the yard, someone shouted, "Hey, lovebirds! Some of us are trying to concentrate over here!"
They sprang apart, suddenly remembering they had an audience. Sora's face was flushed, and Aullie couldn't tell if it was from the fighting or embarrassment.
"We should... probably get back to actual training," she said, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Yeah. Probably." He didn't move to pick up his dropped sword. "But about that lunch..."
"You didn't win."
"I didn't lose either."
She considered this, tilting her head in that way that meant she was thinking. "Fine. We'll call it a draw. Dutch treat."
"I can live with that." He finally bent to retrieve his weapon. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Already looking forward to round two," she said, and the way she said it made him think they weren't just talking about sparring anymore.
Summon Integration was chaos.
They'd transformed the training field into a gauntlet: climbing walls, practice targets, and instructors positioned at every turn, all waiting to knock students flat.
Aullie stepped forward with both Queenie and Shinku flanking him. Queenie shimmered with dark grace, tail high, eyes narrow. Shinku was in panther form, calm but coiled.
"Ready?" barked the instructor.
Aullie nodded. "Let's go."
He exploded into motion, a human projectile. Queenie, a whisper of darkness, melted into the shadows beside him. When a projectile dummy spat a volley of jagged spikes, she reappeared instantly, her darkness meld a living shield that swallowed the assault whole, giving Aullie the precious second he needed to slide into cover.
Then, Shinku struck. A black streak from above, claws ablaze with Void energy, he crushed the dummy's chest in a thunderous impact. The construct burst apart in a shower of smoke and sparks, its demise a symphony of pure, unadulterated destruction.
"Redirect! Right flank!"
Aullie spun, adrenaline surging, a wild gleam in his eyes. Two more dummies surged from the shadows
"Queenie, slow them."
She flicked forward, touching one with her paw. It staggered, slowed instantly.
Aullie was on the first one in a heartbeat, a blur of motion and steel. Shinku, a void-fueled battering ram, slammed into the second, jaws locked onto the dummy's throat, tearing it apart with savage glee
The instructors blew the whistle.
"Passable," the instructor grunted. "But you're still treating your summons like backup. They're not your sidekicks, they're your other half. Fight like it."
Aullie wiped sweat from his forehead, his chest heaving, a triumphant grin on his face. "We'll get there," he gasped, a promise more than a statement.
Shinku growled low. Queenie preened.
The training yard had become their second home. Aullie would claim the far corner most evenings, working through combat forms while shadows writhed around him like living things. Queenie had started anticipating his moves, flowing into defensive positions before he even signaled for them. Shinku was harder to read, the Void beast seemed to operate on a different wavelength entirely, sometimes attacking when Aullie expected defense, forcing him to adapt on the fly.
Across the yard, Aki was setting obstacle courses on fire. Not intentionally, at first.
"Martin, I need more height!" she'd shout, rocketing through the air with flames trailing behind her. The little gecko would cling to her jacket, occasionally letting out encouraging chirps that sounded suspiciously like swearing.
Haru had claimed the reinforced section of the yard after his second day of training put cracks in the regular stone. He'd roll around in the dirt with Wood, both of them looking like they'd been mining coal by the time they finished. The lava-beaver seemed to enjoy the rough-and-tumble approach, growing larger and more solid each day.
"You're going to need a bigger dorm room," Aullie pointed out one afternoon, watching Wood casually demolish a practice dummy.
"Tell me about it," Haru panted, wiping mud from his face. "He tried to sleep on my bed last night. Nearly set the mattress on fire."
Sora had found her rhythm fastest, which surprised no one. She'd dance through her training like it was choreography, space bending around her in precise, controlled arcs. Saki would dive and weave overhead, the two of them moving like they'd been partners for years instead of weeks.
"Show off," Aki called out one evening, watching Sora slice cleanly through three practice targets without breaking stride.
"Jealous," Sora called back, not even breathing hard.
The meditation sessions before bed were supposed to be calming. In reality, they mostly involved trying not to fall asleep while sitting upright and pretending the instructor's monotone voice wasn't putting everyone into a coma.
"Focus on your breathing," Instructor Yamada would drone. "Feel the Aether flowing through your body like a gentle stream."
What Aullie actually felt was the Void energy crackling under his skin like barely contained lightning, but he'd learned not to mention that after the first week.
By the third week, they'd developed a routine. Training until they could barely stand, grabbing dinner from whatever vendor was still open, then collapsing in someone's dorm room to compare bruises and complain about the homework they were too tired to do.
"I can't feel my arms," Aki announced one evening, flopping face-first onto Aullie's bed while Martin curled up on his pillow.
"I can't feel my everything," Haru added from his position on the floor, where Wood was using him as a pillow.
"You're all babies," Sora said, though she was sitting very carefully in the desk chair like her back was killing her.
"Says the person who's been limping all day," Aullie pointed out.
"I'm not limping. I'm walking with purpose."
"The purpose being avoiding putting weight on your left leg?"
"Shut up."
By the fourth week, something had shifted. The exhaustion was still there, but underneath it was something else, confidence, maybe, or just the knowledge that they could push through when everything hurt and their summons were being uncooperative and the instructors kept adding new exercises that seemed designed by sadists.
They were getting stronger. All of them. Even when it felt like they were barely surviving each day.
One month in, Aullie stood in the courtyard after evening training, watching Queenie and Shinku actually coordinate an attack sequence without him having to direct them. Across the yard, Aki stuck a perfect landing after launching herself through a ring of fire, Martin chirping excitedly on her shoulder. Haru managed to pin Wood in their wrestling match for the first time, both of them grinning despite being covered head to toe in dirt. Sora moved through her forms like liquid mercury, Saki spiraling around her in perfect sync.
They were still exhausted. Still sore. Still had homework they were probably going to fail.
But they were also still here. Still standing. Still fighting.
And that felt like victory enough.
And just like that, one month passed.
They met at the transport station, all dressed down for travel.
Aki wore a hoodie five sizes too large. Haru had headphones around his neck and looked like he'd finally slept. Sora's hair was braided, a soft look for someone so precise.
Aullie looked back at the Academy gates.
Not the same people who'd arrived there.
Not anymore.
He smiled. "Let's go home."