The night slowly withdrew from the sky, leaving behind gray streaks cutting across the horizon like ancient scars. The air was unnaturally still, as if waiting for a single word to set the whole city ablaze. A cold breeze swept through the narrow streets, carrying with it the faint scent of ash... remnants of what had happened just hours before.
On the rooftops, crows watched silently, as if witnesses to Milo's secret, one he had confessed to no one. With every step he took along the alleyways, the echo of his earlier words resonated within him... that suppressed anger, and the deep need to prove to himself he was not a pale shadow of his father's name.
The first light of dawn brought no warmth; it revealed everything with a painful clarity: the chaos, the traces of the fight, and the void left by his self-doubt. It was as if the city itself was preparing for a turning point... and Milo stood in the middle, caught between what he feared to admit and the confrontation that awaited him.
Milo's Perspective:
"Everything seems calm, but inside me, everything is screaming. Every step I take on these streets makes my heart pound faster, as if the city itself knows my weakness.
I feel the pressure... the pressure I've always tried to deny. I'm not like my father... I haven't reached his level yet. And everything happening around me reminds me of that.
Every single thing... every threat, every confrontation, every word my sister said... makes me cling to one thing: the need to prove to myself that I am strong. That I am not just a shadow of a name, not just an echo of Arthur's power.
But anger isn't enough... and the strength I have is still limited. Even as I try, I feel like everything around me is testing me, putting me on trial.
I can't run anymore... I have to face it all, and finally find out: am I weak... or am I capable of being more than just a son?
When I was eight years old, my mother died in an old incident, an event that claimed the lives of many innocent people.
A massive monster had attacked Novara, sending scattered assaults across the city. Though the warriors, including my father, fought to repel it, my mother was always there to protect me and my sister... but she couldn't survive.
She took the blow instead of us, bearing the heaviest cost. I remember that day as if it's burning in my mind every moment. The feeling of helplessness, the sense of loss, the guilt... all of it became part of me.
Since then, I've tried to grow stronger, to be capable of protecting those I love, so that such loss never happens again... so that no one has to sacrifice themselves for me or my sister.
My father was too far away at the time, so he couldn't help us. I felt completely helpless, as if the entire world had left us to face something we couldn't withstand.
Many people died in that incident, and even some guild leaders were not spared. It was one of the worst days Novara had ever seen, a bloody day that will never be erased from my memory.
All that pain, all that loss, all that helplessness... it planted an uncontainable desire within me to grow stronger, to be able to protect those I love before this kind of suffering ever happens again."
Milo paused for a moment, drifting back into those dark memories. The sorrow on his face was unmistakable, his eyes carrying the weight of memories that refused to fade.
A cold wind swept through the streets, tossing his brown hair around as if trying to carry away all the pent-up emotions but they remained trapped in his chest, pushing him to reflect once more on that dreadful day.
He stood there, still for a moment, surrounded by the quiet of the city, while the echoes of pain and memory resonated within him... urging him to grow stronger, to face whatever awaits without fear.
"My mother's death left something inside me... a heavy grief that followed me everywhere. And even though I was just a child back then, I couldn't stop blaming myself blaming my weakness, my helplessness, and everything I couldn't do.
But the real pain... didn't come from the memory alone.
It came from people.
From everyone who knew I was Arthur's son. Every look, every comment, every subtle comparison... all of them echoed the same message: "Your father was stronger... your father did more... your father would never fail."
They saw me as an incomplete version of him, a faded shadow of something far greater.
And that... that burned me more deeply than any wound or battle ever could.
My sister was always worried about me, especially when my father went on a mission four years ago. She wanted to keep me under her watch, to protect me alone, even though I was no longer weak as I once was.
But what shook my confidence more... was that earlier fight with the girl. I was on the verge of losing, and if it weren't for the help of that Celestine, I would have been defeated.
I always tried to avoid fights and trouble, but deep down, I secretly wished for them to confirm to myself that I was no longer weak, to prove that I wasn't just a shadow of my father.
And now... I will not lose to this girl with the katana, no matter what! No matter how hard it gets, no matter the danger... this time, I will prove my strength on my own, and I won't rely on anyone."
Milo clenched his fists tightly, his back taut, nerves visible under his skin from sheer focus. His eyes never left Raiza, who leaned on her katana before slowly lifting the blade toward the sky. A single movement, yet it carried all her power, her intent, every potential threat condensed into that stance.
The air in the narrow alley felt heavy, as if the world itself had paused to witness this moment. Milo felt a surge of energy flow through his body, his heart pounding, every muscle coiled and ready to spring. He knew that even a moment of hesitation could cost him dearly and this time, there would be no one to save him.
Raiza's sword, raised high toward the sky, ignited with a blazing crimson energy, as if blood itself was boiling along the katana's edge. Sparks rained around her, the air trembling under the force of her unleashed power.
A drop of blood slid from the corner of her mouth, yet she didn't wipe it away. She stood tall, defiant despite the pain, her head raised... and the crimson flames surged relentlessly.
She fixed her gaze on Milo and shouted, her voice filled with rage:
"Milo... I will end you for sure!"
Anger consumed her features, as if the crimson energy covering her sword had spread into her veins as well. The ground beneath them trembled from the sheer force of her power.
Raiza trembled, her sword glowing with furious crimson energy, and she shouted with a voice full of power:
"Crimsoooon Slaaaash!"
She slammed her katana onto the ground, sending a powerful crimson wave surging toward Milo at astonishing speed. Sparks and flames mixed with dust as the narrow street trembled from the force of the attack.
Milo stood firm, his body taut, focusing every muscle, every sense, on blocking the oncoming strike. The air around him seemed to shimmer from the energy, his eyes fixed on the rushing crimson wave. He knew that even the slightest hesitation could cost him everything.
Milo realized instantly that the attack would sever his arm if he tried to block it with normal energy. With unbelievable agility, he dodged the rushing crimson slash.
He fell to the ground, breathing heavily, then glanced back. The wave of the slash didn't stop-it surged toward a nearby house... but Novara's energy barrier repelled it, protecting the building from any damage.
Immediately, a red alarm lit up near the house, and the sound of police sirens pierced the air. Novara's officers arrived swiftly, ready to intervene
Milo's eyes burned with anger as he looked at Raiza:
"If it weren't for Novara's barrier... you would have claimed the lives of innocent people!"
Raiza completely ignored his words and gracefully leapt onto the roof of a nearby house.
"I'll change the battleground before the police catch you," she muttered to herself, determination in her gaze.
Milo froze for a moment as he spotted the approaching officers. Their voices rang out sharply:
"Stop right there!"
Without hesitation, Milo leapt toward Raiza and delivered a powerful punch with his left hand, glowing with energy, but Raiza calmly evaded it, her crimson energy spreading around her.
Raiza glanced at the police below, then jumped to put distance between them, and Milo followed, keeping his eyes locked on her every movement.
Raiza led Milo toward the small wall separating the middle-class district from the poorer area, then stopped firmly at its edge.
Milo rushed toward her, each step filled with strength and determination, but he halted immediately upon reaching the wall, his full attention fixed on her.
Raiza stared at Milo with sharp eyes, then brandished her sword toward him.
"This time, I'll be serious!" she declared firmly.
Her crimson energy flared more intensely, charging her sword and filling the air with a formidable aura.
Milo, still burning with anger, released his ordinary translucent energy around him, his body tense and ready for any attack.
Milo rushed toward her, but he was taken aback by Raiza's swift advance.
Her sword struck directly at him, forcing Milo to tilt his head back just in time, causing a few strands of his hair to be cut.
Sweat poured down his face as he breathed heavily, realizing more than ever the true strength of his opponent.
Milo refused to give in, raising his right hand and delivering a powerful punch toward her.
Raiza easily dodged it, but she didn't give him a moment of relief, directing her sword toward his left side.
It was a decisive strike, yet Milo didn't hesitate; he charged his energy and blocked the blow with his hand, the force of his power colliding with her crimson sword in sparks flying around them.
Despite blocking the strike, Milo began to bleed slightly, the blood falling to the ground.
"Damn... seems like my energy shield isn't enough... but I won't give up!" he muttered to himself.
Milo trapped her hand between his side and his own, using his right foot to throw off her balance. He raised his hand to deliver a quick punch, but it missed her, striking the ground instead, sending dust scattering around them.
Raiza swiftly pulled her sword from his side, leaving a small cut on Milo, and stepped back to regain her stance.
Milo was panting slightly as Raiza stood balanced, then launched toward him with astonishing speed.
He hadn't even noticed her until blood began trickling from his shoulder. Placing his hand on it, he muttered:
"Hah! She's fast..."
Raiza smiled, mocking him:
"Come on, boy, show me your abilities, or are you already tired?"
She continued moving beside him with lightning speed, scratching parts of his body and sending waves of pain across him.
Milo lost his balance and fell onto his shoulder, writhing in pain.
Raiza stood firm, moving her sword swiftly to wipe away the blood clinging to it.
"This is the end, boy..." she said in a calm yet razor-sharp tone.
She lunged toward Milo with incredible speed, but he stood his ground, defending with all his strength. He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to halt her movement.
Her sword hovered dangerously close to his abdomen, almost grazing him, the tension in the air around them thickening with each passing second. Every moment was charged with suspense, and one wrong move could change the outcome of the battle.
Milo stomped on her sword with his foot, forcing her to drop slightly. Seizing the opportunity, he delivered a powerful punch to her face.
Raiza stumbled backward for a moment, but she quickly recovered and surged forward again, her eyes gleaming with determination.
"You will not defeat me, boy!" she shouted, increasing her speed, aiming directly for his abdomen.
Milo stepped back just in time, and the strike tore through his clothes only, grazing him. The pressure of her relentless attack weighed on him, her resolve undeniable.
Raiza launched a short-range Crimson Slash at him, the explosion throwing Milo off balance for a moment. Before he could regain control, she surged forward, sword aimed to stab. The wind she left behind carried the sharp hiss of her blade, tossing Milo's hair as the tension and pressure mounted with every passing second.
The night was fading, leaving the sky gray and cold, while the wind swept through the narrow streets and rooftops. The distant sounds of the city were muted, but every movement, every small burst of energy, echoed sharply across the empty alleys.
Cold winds swept through the narrow streets, stirring dust and torn leaves, while the gray sky cast a heavy, oppressive feeling over the scene. Everything around them was silent, as if the city itself was watching, waiting for the outcome of the confrontation.
Raiza didn't stab him; instead, she let her sword pass just beside his side. In a calm but sharp voice, she said:
"I don't want to send you to Tavian disfigured, so it's better if you just surrender."
Milo smiled, then fell to his knees. He glanced at the ground for a moment, quietly wondering:
"Is this... what losing feels like?"
Raiza sheathed her sword and adjusted her long black hair, streaked with red highlights, letting it flow lightly in the wind as if dancing despite the tense atmosphere.
"yeah that's us the feel of losing against me"
Milo remained smiling, small wounds scattered across his body. He took a slow breath, then chuckled softly, as if the pain hadn't shaken his resolve:
"Yes... this is what losing feels like... but I haven't lost yet."
Milo stood firm, facing Raiza. She raised her sword, charging it with crimson energy.
"You bastard... I should have knocked you out!" she shouted, swinging a swift strike toward him.
Milo blocked it with his hand using his energy, feeling the impact surge through him for a moment, then he spun around quickly and drove his knee into her stomach with a strong blow.
Raiza stepped back, her eyes glowing with anger.
"No use... stop resisting, you know you're going to lose anyway!" she said angrily, then lunged toward Milo again in a swift slash.
Milo closed his eyes, and the color of his energy began to shift, glowing in a familiar yet intensified way.
Raiza stopped abruptly, taking a step back, silent for a moment...
When Milo opened his eye, the color of his left eye shifted to red,
and his hair danced with his energy as a crimson aura spread around him.
"This is my unique ability!" Milo declared confidently, channeling all his anger and determination.
Raiza spoke in a calm tone, her eyes carefully observing every movement:
"I see now... so you do have a unique ability after all. I'll be cautious, to see what you can do."
Suddenly, Milo stopped, and his energy returned to its normal state.
A hint of sadness flickered across his face.
"You... you came... after all... once again," Milo said softly.
Raiza looked at him, confused and curious:
"W... why did you stop? What do you mean?"
Milo reached out and grasped Raiza's shoulder firmly.
Raiza turned her head, her eyes widening as she realized the person standing behind her...
It was... Celestine.
Celestine stood behind Raiza, her hands firmly on her shoulders. Her long black hair, streaked with subtle violet highlights, cascaded gently over her shoulders, moving slightly with the evening breeze. The coat she wore flowed smoothly over her figure, exuding calm authority and elegance. Her eyes were steady, untroubled, as if she controlled the situation entirely.
She spoke in a low, controlled tone:
"I didn't expect to meet you again so soon, Tavian's subordinate."
The scene framed Celestine as composed and commanding, every movement deliberate, while Milo found himself caught between surprise and anticipation.
Raiza tried to pull away, but Celestine's grip on her wrist was firm, twisting her arm gently behind her back.
"A-a-a... wait, girl! You're not going anywhere," Celestine said calmly, her tone unyielding.
Milo's eyes narrowed, a mix of anger and frustration flashing across his face as he stared at Celestine.
"Why... why did you come?" he demanded, his voice tense, laced with both suspicion and unease.
Celestine tightened her hold on Raiza, preventing her from slipping away, and turned her gaze toward Milo.
"Alright," she said calmly, her voice measured, "I was looking for you. When you didn't return home, by chance I noticed the Novara patrol had reported some troublemakers fighting. I told them to leave it to me... and here I am."
Milo stayed tense, frowning, silent for a moment as he watched the scene unfold.
Raiza struggled against Celestine's grip and swung a powerful back kick into her stomach. Celestine barely moved, reacting calmly.
"I told you... you're not going anywhere," Celestine said quietly, reaching for Raiza's shoulder again.
Suddenly, Milo acted, kicking Celestine's hand upward and forcing her to release her hold. Raiza slipped free and quickly withdrew, vanishing into the shadows.
She muttered under her breath as she ran,
"Did... did he just help me escape?"
Milo stood still, facing Celestine, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm himself. His brown hair, slightly tousled from the day's events, fell over his forehead. His sharp eyes, still glowing with a trace of anger, now held a measure of composure. The tension in his shoulders slowly eased, yet the quiet strength in his stance remained-a subtle readiness that suggested he was alert, even in stillness.
Celestine, calm and collected despite the sharpness of the moment, inspected her hand with a quiet, deliberate motion. Her long black hair, streaked with faint violet highlights, cascaded over her shoulders, catching the light softly. Her dark, tailored coat draped elegantly over her figure, emphasizing both authority and poise. A slight frown crossed her delicate features, a hint of displeasure at Milo's recent actions.
"You just helped your enemy," she said softly, her voice calm but carrying a sharp undertone. "You were about to get rid of her annoyance."
Milo's eyes narrowed, his tone sharp. "She's my enemy."
Celestine's expression softened as she understood his point of view. "Ah... I see," she murmured, her voice steady despite the tension.
She straightened herself, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her coat, her movements graceful and composed. "Well, I should have gone to sleep instead of wasting my time here. But... Mr. Milo, why don't we have a little talk? Perhaps we can understand each other better."
Milo drew a slow, steady breath, regaining his calm. He didn't reply immediately, yet his posture and gaze indicated that he would listen.
Celestine smiled gently, placing her hand on his head with quiet reassurance. "Good... you understand, little Arthur."
Her expression was serene, her eyes soft but filled with an unmistakable intelligence and authority. Even in this tense moment, she radiated confidence, her presence commanding yet comforting, like a guiding force Milo couldn't ignore.