A year had passed since the day Zay found the recorder in the attic of the mansion—and to this day, he hadn't told a single soul what he discovered.
He now sat on both of his knees in the training hall, the same place he had sparred with Mike twice a day for the past year, with countless other training methods filling the time between.
Mike leaned casually in the doorway of the training grounds. Moments later, Rin and Jade appeared beside him, stepping in from the corridors. They had been training as well over the past year, though not nearly with the same intensity as Zay.
With a smirk, Mike tossed an apple into the room. It sailed through the air, propelled by a subtle infusion of grey aura.
As the apple neared him, Zay activated [Predator's Hunting Grounds]. In a fluid motion, he unsheathed a metal katana and moved instantly—so fast that by the time Rin blinked, Zay was already standing again, his blade sheathed, his breath steady in a soft exhale.
The apple collapsed to the ground in silence, neatly sliced into thirty-seven perfect pieces.
Rin couldn't even see the motion. Jade only caught a faint outline.
Zay looked over at the three of them before walking toward them. His eyes settled on Mike. "So," he said calmly, "can I get Evershade back now?"
Mike gave a nod, then snapped his fingers. The maid—who had taken care of nearly everything over the past year—appeared almost instantly, her presence as silent and graceful as always.
"Please, follow me," she said gently.
Zay gave a nod and stepped behind her. Jade and Rin fell in step, trailing close behind.
Zay wore a tight-fitting black tunic, stitched by the maid for fluid combat movement. His long black trousers matched, crafted from soft fabric and reinforced along the seams. A wide straw hat rested on his head, the brim casting a faint shadow over his amethyst eyes. Over the course of the year, his once-black hair with a blend of white and red had faded slightly, the streaks of white and red growing more evident with time, somewhat suppressing his black hair. His short blackened boots made little sound against the floor as he walked with arms folded across his chest.
Rin's outfit mirrored Zay's in design, but with a silver tunic instead of black. Silver lines traced down the fabric like flowing channels of energy, catching faint glints of light.
Jade wore a midnight-blue coat that flared slightly at the ends, etched with pale silver sigils that pulsed faintly when she moved. The coat reached just above her knees, the interior lined with reinforced silk to resist the elements. Beneath it, she wore a deep navy combat dress, sleeveless and slit at the sides for movement, paired with leggings crafted from obsidian-threaded cloth—lightweight and enchanted for agility. Her sapphire eyes glowed slightly brighter, and small enchanted clasps adorned her wrists and collar, engraved with protective seals.
The three of them followed silently behind the maid, her footsteps echoing softly through the grand hallway. She opened a door near the end of the corridor, revealing a quiet, dimly lit chamber. In the center of the room, bound in thick, flaming chains, rested Evershade.
The midnight-blue sheath shimmered—subtle at first, then brighter—as if awakening from slumber. It was the first time in a year it had reacted. Zay stepped forward, eyes locked on the sheath. He slowly raised his hand.
With a sudden crack and flare of blue aura, the sheath shattered the chains on its own, breaking free and soaring through the air. Zay's fingers shifted, adjusting instinctively as Evershade landed neatly in his grasp. He held it tightly for a moment before strapping it to his waist. A breath escaped him—half tension, half relief—as his hand settled on the hilt.
He turned.
Mike stood behind them now, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed.
"You've come far in just a year," Mike said, nodding slightly. "You've learned to use your Seals when needed instead of relying solely on raw strength. Like I told you before—Seals exist to be used, not to be admired."
Zay nodded, absorbing the words without reply. The four of them made their way to the mansion's entrance.
Standing at the door was the man dressed entirely in black, his presence as still and heavy as ever. A curved outline on his side suggested a blade, though none was visible.
"This is where we part ways," the man said. "Zay, Rin, Jade… I won't lie. I didn't expect to enjoy having you three around. But I did."
He stepped aside, giving them space to pass.
Zay paused, locking eyes with him. "At first, I didn't like you at all. I'll admit that."
A moment passed before Zay continued. "But my opinion's changed. If we meet again… I hope it's as allies. Not enemies."
The man didn't speak, but he gave a slight nod. They turned toward the doors, and as Zay reached out to open them, the man's voice came, low and calm.
"Call me Spring."
Then he vanished down the corridor, his cloak whispering behind him.
Zay allowed himself a small grin before pushing open the doors. Cold air brushed his face as he stepped outside. A black carriage waited, sleek and ready. Mike followed them out, climbing up to the driver's perch. Zay followed and got into the back of the carriage and offered his hand, helping Jade up, then Rin climbed in behind her. The three of them sat inside in silence.
Mike clicked the reins. The white horses—each marked with black streaks along their bodies and glowing orange eyes—snorted and charged forward. The new iron gates opened of their own accord, and the carriage bolted through, moving faster than it had when they arrived over a year ago.
Zay glanced toward the front. "Where are you dropping us off?" he asked.
Mike looked back over his shoulder. "That depends. Where do you want to be dropped off?"
Zay looked to Jade.
She smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "The Raiden Clan. I'd love to see the look on my ex-fiancé's face when I remind him what a mistake he made by being an arrogant asshole. And maybe punch the shit out of the rest of them."
She turned to Rin.
He gave a soft nod. "They never did take medics seriously. About time someone reminded them."
Mike laughed. "Sounds good to me."
With one hand on the reins, he reached into his cloak with the other, pulling out a cigar. He lit it with a flick of his thumb and took a long drag as the carriage vanished down the road, toward the next chapter of their story.
As the carriage rolled through the snow-blanketed landscape, winter winds whispered past the windows. Zay turned his head slightly to look at Jade and Rin. Just for a second. A faint smile crept onto his lips but just as quickly as it came, it vanished. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
A few hours passed. They rode through winding roads, silence giving way to the occasional murmur of directions. Eventually, Jade and Rin guided the way toward a familiar mountainside—tall, jagged, half-swallowed by swirling mists and snow.
All four stepped out as the carriage came to a stop, boots crunching into the fresh snow.
They walked toward the base of the mountain in silence, the cold wind brushing past their cloaks. Mike reached out, placing his hand against the ancient stone face.
"You're sure this is it?" he asked.
Jade and Rin responded in perfect unison, voices firm:
"We're sure."
Mike nodded, his expression tightening. He closed his eyes.
A massive wave of grey aura burst from his body, swirling violently like a storm. It spread over the mountainside, coating rock and forest in a ghostly hue. Then—
[Blessing of the God, Vaitros]
—Activated.
Spikes erupted from the stone, slamming into the mountainside with explosive force. The cliff face crumbled under the pressure, pulverized into dust. Snow scattered, trees trembled, and light broke through.
From the shattered remains, the Raiden Clan emerged.
Men and women flooded to the exposed cliff, their sapphire eyes sharp and hostile. Elders appeared seconds later, weapons drawn, leading the charge. The mountain trembled not from fear—but from the power now gathering atop it.
As the dust cleared, all eyes locked on the four figures standing at the base.
Two were unmistakable—Jade and Rin.
The third—Zay—was recognized by few. A memory faded in the backs of minds.
And the fourth—Mike—was entirely unknown.
The elders stepped forward, blades drawn, their voices thunderous.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Why are Jade and Rin Raiden with outsiders?"
"Who are you, and why do you dare approach this sacred land?"
Zay didn't speak.
Instead, he turned his head slightly, glancing over his shoulder at the others.
One by one, Jade, Rin, and Mike gave a slow nod—wordless, but resolute.
Zay faced forward again. Then, without hesitation, he stepped toward the mountain. The others followed in unison, each step crunching through the snow with quiet finality.
As they walked, Jade lifted her hand. Frost gathered in her palm before solidifying into a gleaming blade of ice, light refracting off its jagged edges.
Mike exhaled slowly, the last of his breath curling in the cold air. He flicked his cigar into the snow, then reached into his cloak. From within, he drew a long, rune-etched spear and handed it silently to Rin.
Rin accepted it with a firm grip and a quiet nod, his expression unreadable.
Mike then let his pace ease, falling back a few steps behind the trio. He folded his arms, watching—not because he doubted them, but because he wanted to see how far they'd come.
The snow continued to fall, but the air around them was anything but calm.
'A lot had happened over the course of the year. Zay had improved significantly... but he is also very thoughtful of others, and respectful. Which is something I can respect. He still questions things—but he acts without hesitating, without stopping to weigh the morals behind his actions… at least for now. Rin kept the fire in his chest burning, always training—not because he had enemies, necessarily, but because he wanted to be stronger for himself. Still, he never hesitated to help the two people he called friends: Zay and Jade. That's something I respect. And Jade… she pushed herself through training, fueled by spite for her own clan. She never stopped ranting about that bastard of an ex-fiancé of hers that she wanted to punch.'
Mike chuckled at the thought, almost wishing he had a chair and some food to sit down and enjoy the show.
Jade halted, her boots sinking into the snow that had quickly thickened at the mountainside's base. Her eyes swept over the elders standing shoulder to shoulder, cloaked in silence and snowfall.
She drew in a long breath, then spoke with steady defiance:
"I hereby challenge Malrik Raiden to a fight to the death."
The words cut through the cold like steel.
A few members of the Raiden Clan stiffened, throats bobbing as they swallowed hard. Others froze, unsure whether to feel fear… or anticipation.
Then came the laugh.
Malrik emerged from behind the elders, his smirk already carved into his face as if he'd been waiting for this moment.
"You want to challenge me?" he scoffed, amusement crackling in his voice. "To a death match?"
He inhaled the icy air, then exhaled slowly, his breath turning to mist. Lightning-blue currents snapped across his body before coiling into the shape of a blade in his hand. His grip tightened around the crackling weapon.
Malrik turned, eyes flicking back to the elders. Tradition bound them—no interference once a challenge of death had been declared. Even they couldn't break that law.
The elders exchanged grim nods.
Malrik smirked wider.
He stepped forward.
Jade matched him, her ice blade gleaming as snowflakes kissed its edge.
Jade took one long breath. The cold filtered through her lungs, sharpening her senses.
Her feet slid apart, right foot forward, heel slightly raised to allow for a faster pivot. Her back foot angled for stability, toes buried into the snow for traction. She bent her knees just enough to lower her center of gravity. Her blade—shaped like a curved crescent of glacial blue—was held diagonally across her body, both hands gripping the hilt, one near the guard, the other near the base, thumbs locked in place. The edge pointed downward at an angle, but shimmered with lethal readiness. It was a stance Mike had designed for her: fluid, reactive, deadly.
The ice blade pulsed faintly as the wind picked up, and snowflakes clung to it like frost collecting on a windowpane. As her grip tightened, the snow flared out slightly around her from the aura she began releasing, a low hum building from her core.
Malrik smiled, arrogant and electric. His lightning blade, jagged like a bolt frozen in place, crackled as he took a single step forward. Snow under his boot compressed with a sharp crunch, and arcs of blue lightning danced across the surface of his weapon, melting the snow beneath his feet into steam that hissed upward.
Jade didn't move, but her eyes narrowed, tracking the exact placement of his foot, the slight shift of his hips, the twitch of his shoulder.
Gasps spread through the crowd, especially from the younger members who had never seen a fight of death before. Some elders remained stoic, but others looked between each other with the subtle unease of uncertainty.
Malrik's lips curled into a sneer. "Let's dance then."
He surged forward—his right hand slashing horizontally from left to right. The lightning blade carved through the air, leaving behind a scorched trail of vapor. Jade responded instantly. She stepped back, just a breath, and rotated her upper body, the ice blade dragging against the lightning in a hissing clash, blue sparks and frost shrapnel flying out between them.
Jade pivoted on her back foot, sweeping her blade upward. The motion was smooth, she used the torque from her hips to send a thin wave of ice forward, the wind pulling it apart into spear-like shards that raced for Malrik's chest.
Malrik's left hand flared with lightning, and he swung it forward, palm-first, detonating a short-range burst that shattered the ice in mid-air. He coughed as the frost scraped across his face, reddening the edges of his cheeks, steam rising from his cloak.
Jade pressed forward.
She dipped low—left knee nearly grazing the snow—before snapping upward into a vertical slash meant to catch him along the ribs. Malrik parried with a downward slash, their blades locking. Lightning sizzled against frozen steel, and both were forced apart as a shockwave rolled outward, blowing snow away in a wide ring around them revealing grass in a circle around them.
Both fighters skidded backward—Jade with light, calculated steps that kept her balance, Malrik heavier, dragging his heel to stop himself.
Jade's chest rose and fell in short, sharp breaths. Her eyes stayed on Malrik's torso, reading the rhythm of his breathing, predicting his next motion. She shifted her weight to the balls of her feet.
Malrik growled and charged again. He feinted left, spun, and brought the blade in an overhead arc. Jade stepped inward, the blade narrowly missing her shoulder as she pivoted around his exposed side.
She struck his ribs.
A clean gash bloomed red across the black of his tunic, and blood splattered into the snow. Gasps rippled through the clan.
But he didn't fall.
He grabbed her arm.
Jade's eyes widened a moment too late.
Lightning exploded from his palm, slamming her into the snow. Her body skidded, steam rising from her coat as parts of it burned away, but she gritted her teeth, rolling back to her feet with a defiant glare.
Snow began to fall heavier now, blanketing the battlefield in a thicker veil, muting the world around them as the air filled with mist and breath. Every flake that touched Jade's blade made a tiny ping sound, the enchantment within singing softly in response.
Rin clenched his hands near the crowd, watching every motion. Mike, behind the others, folded his arms, eyes narrowed. Zay stood still as a statue, his eyes glowing violet faintly, watching not just the fight—but the flow of aura, of movement, of strategy using his [Predator's Hunting Grounds]
Malrik snarled and lunged—lightning surging down his blade as he lifted it in a powerful diagonal arc, aiming to cleave Jade from shoulder to hip.
Her body tilted, spine arching just enough to evade the edge. She turned on the ball of her left foot and stepped to the side in one elegant, fluid motion. Her coat swirled around her, catching the falling snow and spinning it like a curtain of frost. The blade missed her by inches, slamming into the ground and bursting the snow into vapor and broken earth.
A quiet chime sounded in the air.
[Ice Dancer] — Activated.
Jade's body shifted into another rhythm entirely—movements like drifting snow and cutting wind. Each step now held grace. Each dodge resembled the practiced twirl of a seasoned dancer. Her breaths synced with the falling snow, her eyes narrowed, but calm.
Malrik pivoted, furious at the miss, and swung again—but Jade glided backward, ice lightly forming beneath her boots to enhance the motion. She dipped low, her leg sweeping snow into the air, and then rose in a spin, eyes flashing.
She whispered something under her breath.
[Resonance Echo: Ice Spears]
The battlefield responded.
Snow on the ground lifted like a breath being drawn upward. It spun in circles, compacting into jagged spears of glimmering frost—six, eight, ten, then more. Their edges were rough, formed by the uneven terrain, but still deadly.
Above, the falling flakes shimmered brighter. They spiraled together in tight, elegant swirls—forming sleeker, thinner spears. Sharper. Like needles of frozen death, forged by wind and fury.
Malrik's eyes widened just as the first volley came.
The ground-spears launched first—an uneven barrage aimed at his midsection and legs. He dove backward, slicing one in half with his lightning blade, the frost exploding into mist around him.
The air-spears followed instantly.
One grazed his shoulder, tearing through the leather and biting skin. Another slashed across his thigh. Blood splattered the snow, staining it like crimson ink. His breath came out as a snarl as he flung lightning outward in wide bursts, detonating the air and vaporizing three of the incoming projectiles.
But they kept coming—Jade was already moving again.
She darted left, spun, and with her movement, the spears shifted mid-flight. Her passive still active, she danced into a twirl, eyes locked on him the entire time, using every inch of her momentum to control the flow of the spears as if they were mere extensions of her intent.
Malrik roared—his blade crashing into the last of the spears just before they could pierce his throat. Sparks flew. Ice shattered. Steam erupted in the space between them.
He dropped to one knee, panting, his blade crackling in his grip. Blood slid down his arm in thick rivulets. His face was painted with fury.
Then, faintly, from somewhere near the back of the gathered crowd, a whisper broke the quiet:
"I guess that's why they used to call her… the Princess of Ice."
The words drifted like fog, brushing the ears of nearby onlookers. One turned to another and repeated it under their breath. Then another. A soft murmur rippled through the clan like a tremor, passing from mouth to ear, ear to mouth.
Another voice—a young man this time—spoke louder, unable to hide the disbelief lining his words.
"She's… actually winning. Against Malrik…"
Malrik heard the murmurs ripple through the crowd.
His body trembled as he forced himself to stand, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. His breaths came ragged and uneven, each inhale scraping like iron against his throat.
Across from him, Jade stood calm. She didn't even look winded.
Her blade of ice still shimmered under the falling snow, her posture relaxed, eyes half-lidded as if this entire fight had been... effortless.
Like he was a joke to her.
Malrik's brow twitched.
"...Fine then. Ice Princess."
He inhaled slowly.
And the world responded. Lightning cracked through the air, wild and untamed, spiraling around him in a storm of blue-white fury. The sparks didn't dance—they swarmed, as if desperate to return to him. As he inhaled, they surged inward, disappearing beneath his skin. His veins lit up like rivers of energy.
His eyes snapped open, and his irises were gone—replaced by a glowing thunderbolt, jagged and ever-shifting.
His blade flickered, then transformed, warping into a single pure bolt of electric wrath.
[Thunderbreaker's Requiem]