Eyrx stood in front of Nick.
Cold wind swept across the grassy field surrounding the castle. Dark clouds drifted across the sky, hiding the sun behind layers of gray. The mountains in the distance stood silent, watching over the land.
Nick folded his arms.
"Attack me."
Eyrx didn't hesitate.
He rushed forward and threw a punch toward Nick's face.
Nick tilted his head slightly.
The punch missed.
Eyrx immediately followed with another punch, then a kick aimed at Nick's side.
Nick stepped aside effortlessly.
Again.
And again.
Every punch.
Every kick.
Every attack.
Nick dodged them all as if he already knew where Eyrx would strike.
Frustration slowly appeared on Eyrx's face.
He stepped back, clenched his fist, and gathered all his strength.
Then he lunged forward and threw his strongest punch.
Nick raised one hand.
The fist stopped only inches from his face.
A gust of wind swept through the grass.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Nick pushed Eyrx's arm away.
"Nice try."
Eyrx breathed heavily.
"But you're weak."
Nick's voice remained calm.
"I can see your basics. They're terrible."
Eyrx lowered his head slightly.
Nick continued.
"You want power."
"Before power, learn how to use your body."
"Before learning special abilities, learn how to throw a proper punch."
Eyrx nodded.
"I'm ready."
He glanced toward Darven.
"Why aren't you training with us?"
Darven stretched lazily.
"I feel weak today."
"I'll start tomorrow."
Eyrx shrugged.
"Okay."
Nick clapped his hands once.
"Then let's begin."
The real training started.
Nick corrected every movement.
"No."
"Keep your guard up."
"Straighten your wrist."
"Balance your feet."
"Again."
Hours passed.
Eyrx repeated the same punch hundreds of times.
His shoulders burned.
His knuckles became red.
Sweat rolled down his face despite the cold weather.
Whenever he slowed down, Nick made him start over.
Then came footwork.
Step.
Turn.
Punch.
Step back.
Repeat.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The wind grew colder as the day continued.
By noon, Eyrx could barely feel his arms.
By afternoon, his legs felt like stone.
But Nick showed no mercy.
After punches came warm-up drills.
Running.
Push-ups.
Squats.
Planks.
Then back to punches.
By the time the sun began to set behind the mountains, Eyrx collapsed onto the grass.
Nick lay down beside him.
Both stared at the evening sky.
Orange sunlight painted the clouds while cold wind moved through the field.
Eyrx let out a tired laugh.
"We started in the morning."
"And now it's evening."
Nick nodded.
"We do this every day."
Eyrx closed his eyes.
"That's torture."
Nick smirked.
"When I was four years old, my father trained me."
"After he died, I trained myself."
For a moment, neither spoke.
The wind carried the scent of pine trees from the mountains.
Inside the castle kitchen, Darven searched through a cabinet.
"I know it was here..."
After a few moments, he finally spotted the knife beside the stove.
He walked toward it.
Then suddenly—
His vision blurred.
The room spun.
Darven grabbed the edge of a table before falling.
A dark figure stood in the corner of the kitchen.
Watching him.
Silent.
Darven stared.
His heart raced.
Then, just as suddenly, the figure disappeared.
The room returned to normal.
Darven blinked.
Nothing was there.
"...What was that?"
He rubbed his eyes.
Then picked up three glasses of juice and left the kitchen.
As he walked through the castle corridor, he felt as if someone was following him.
Footsteps.
A presence.
A shadow behind him.
When he turned around, nobody was there.
He continued walking.
Outside, Nick and Eyrx still rested on the grass.
Darven approached and handed them their drinks.
Nick accepted his glass.
"Why are you doing this?"
"You said you felt weak."
Darven forced a smile.
Before he could answer, Nick continued.
"He takes care of us like a mother."
Eyrx laughed.
Darven didn't.
His eyes seemed distant.
As if he were thinking about something else entirely.
Nick frowned.
"Darven."
No response.
"Darven."
Still nothing.
Nick suddenly grabbed his shoulder.
"Darven!"
Darven jumped.
"What?!"
Nick exchanged a glance with Eyrx.
"Where are you lost?"
Darven looked away.
"Nowhere."
"I just have a fever."
Nick didn't look convinced.
But he said nothing.
Eyrx took a sip of juice.
"Stop overthinking."
"If you die, nothing happens."
Darven forced another smile.
But his hands trembled slightly.
Because behind Nick and Eyrx...
He could see shadows moving.
Watching.
Waiting.
Neither of them seemed able to see them.
One shadow stepped closer.
Darven froze.
His glass slipped from his fingers.
"Eyrx!"
Darven quickly caught it before it hit the ground.
Nick narrowed his eyes.
Something was definitely wrong.
Meanwhile, on the other side of Kryzehon...
Grace walked through the city with her face hidden beneath a dark cloak.
The city looked ancient.
Massive stone buildings lined the streets.
Tall towers rose above the rooftops.
Carved statues decorated old walls weathered by centuries of rain and wind.
The streets were paved with smooth gray stone.
Vintage lanterns hung from iron posts.
Small shops crowded both sides of the road, their wooden signs swinging gently in the breeze.
The entire city felt as though it had been preserved from another age.
Like a forgotten kingdom frozen in time.
Grace stared around with curiosity.
"This place is beautiful."
Kael pointed toward a bench near a large casino.
"Sit there."
"I'm going to the washroom."
Grace nodded.
"Okay."
"Don't move."
Kael walked inside.
Thirty minutes passed.
Then an hour.
Grace stared at the casino.
"...That's a very long washroom visit."
Eventually she stood up.
"I'll just look around."
She began wandering through the city alone.
Meanwhile, inside the casino, Kael lost his last coin.
He stared at the empty table.
Then suddenly remembered something.
"...Grace."
His face turned pale.
He checked the time.
"Oh no."
He immediately ran outside.
The bench was empty.
Grace was gone.
Kael searched the market.
The main street.
The shops.
Nothing.
He closed his eyes and focused.
A faint trace of her presence appeared.
Left side district.
Kael opened his eyes.
Then sprinted through the city.
Meanwhile, Grace had unknowingly wandered into a quieter residential area.
Large stone houses stood along the narrow streets.
The area was peaceful.
Until several men stepped into her path.
One of them whistled.
Another smiled.
Grace ignored them and kept walking.
They followed.
Her eyes slowly turned cold.
The men continued approaching.
One reached toward her shoulder.
A second later—
CRACK.
Her fist slammed into his face.
The man crashed to the ground.
Everyone froze.
Then the street exploded into chaos.
The remaining men rushed toward her.
Grace stepped forward.
Ready to fight.
And during the struggle...
One man saw her face.
His eyes widened in shock.
Because he recognized exactly who she looked like.