Raiza paused on the rooftop, looking down at the gray city sprawled beneath her. Her heart was still pounding violently, and her katana, still blazing with crimson energy, seemed to breathe with her, as if it were part of her very body. Every second had been a struggle, every movement of Milo's still etched in her mind.
Raiza thought to herself, "He… he actually helped me escape… What is that boy really thinking?"
She lowered her head slightly, her eyes scanning the streets below. The Novara patrol was still searching, their footsteps echoing faintly through the narrow alleys.
"They're still here…", she muttered under her breath, feeling a mix of irritation and caution. Every movement had to be calculated now; she couldn't afford another encounter not yet.
Raiza slid her katana back into its sheath with a controlled, silent motion. Then she leaped down into a dead-end alley, landing lightly on her feet.
The narrow space was dim and stale, the stone walls old and cold. She pressed her back against the wall, letting herself breathe for a moment.
Here, hidden from the patrol's eyes… but not from the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind about Milo.
Raiza opened her phone to see an incoming call from her master, Tavian. She hadn't been able to answer earlier, caught up in the escape and the fight. A wave of tension hit her as she wondered why her master was calling now and whether he had heard about her battle.
Raiza called again, and this time the phone was answered. Her voice trembled as she spoke, a mixture of longing and ugly fear:
"M-Master Tavian!"
Tavian was seated comfortably in his palace, in the upper-class area, in front of a table covered with papers. A mysterious figure sat silently across from him.
He spoke in a calm and reassuring tone, yet it still carried his natural dominance:
"Raiza… why are you late?"
Raiza sat in the narrow alley, back pressed against the rough wall, her katana sheathed beside her. Her body was exhausted, small scratches and cuts marking her arms and hands, and her wavy black hair with red streaks tangled from the wind and the fight. Her breathing was rapid but controlled, and her sharp facial features reflected fatigue, yet her eyes still held unwavering determination. Her shoulders were tense, muscles tight despite the pain, showing she was a formidable fighter who wouldn't give up easily.
She held her phone in a trembling hand, then began to speak, her voice strained and mixed with awe and longing:
"M-Master Tavian… I… I went alone… I wanted to bring Milo to you…"
In his palace, Tavian calmly lifted his wine glass and took a small sip, as if pondering Raiza's words and weighing them carefully. He glanced at the mysterious figure sitting across from him, then offered a faint smile, laced with mockery and dominance:
"Hmm… and what happened after that?"
His voice was calm, yet charged with power and control, as if every word he spoke directly affected whoever was listening, even from thousands of miles away.
Raiza felt a surge of shame, her voice trembling slightly as she almost whispered into the phone:
"I couldn't bring him… that wretched Celestine helped him again…"
Her shoulders were still tense, muscles tight from the fight, but she felt an extra weight on her heart from confessing this to her master.
Tavian rested his hand on his chin, leaning on it as he considered Raiza's words carefully, then spoke calmly:
"Ah… Celestine… The guilds' agency has always deprived me and resisted me… but that won't last long."
Raiza listened intently to every word over the phone, a surge of caution running through her as thoughts raced with each phrase her master uttered.
She responded softly, her voice a mix of respect and fear:
"M-Master Tavian…"
Tavian smiled faintly, in a calm and reassuring tone, and continued:
"Return to the palace, Raiza. It's already late. I feared something might have happened to you… you worried me."
Raiza blushed, placing her hand over her mouth for a moment before giving a slight smile.
"O-Okay, Master Tavian…"
The call ended, leaving the echo of his voice lingering in her mind, along with a mixture of nervousness, fear, and admiration.
Raiza sprang to her feet in the alley, weaving through the dark streets as she made her way to the palace. A strange sense of joy filled her heart, a broad smile spreading across her face despite the scratches and exhaustion on her body. Every step was filled with energy, as if the call with Tavian had reignited her strength and sparked a surge of excitement within her.
Milo stood in the narrow alley, catching his breath after the intense battle with Raiza. His body was still covered in sweat and dust, his hands tense, and numerous small scratches and cuts marked his arms and shoulders, a painful reminder of the fierce fight. Despite the pain, a new inner strength coursed through him a sense of liberation and readiness to face whatever came next.
Celestine stepped closer to Milo, her features calm but her eyes filled with worry. She pulled a small pale blue bottle of medicine from her bag and opened it, speaking in a low, confident voice:
"Take this… it will heal your wounds completely within minutes."
She extended her hand toward him, but Milo shook his head firmly, raising his hand slightly as if to push it away:
"No… I don't need it. I'm fine."
The scratches on his shoulders and arms still bled lightly, some slightly swollen, yet his gaze was sharp and full of determination. He clenched his fists and continued:
"I have to go… and defeat her. I can't stop now."
Celestine froze for a moment, as if his words pierced something inside her. She looked at his wounds, then into his eyes… feeling the weight of his inner drive, his desire to prove something perhaps more to himself than anyone else.
Celestine sighed slowly, her gaze fixed on Milo, speaking in a calm yet serious tone:
"It seems you didn't notice the wound on your stomach."
Milo froze for a moment, and when he looked down at his stomach, he discovered a prominent cut bleeding lightly.
Shock registered across his face, his voice filled with disbelief:
"I'm sure I dodged that attack… I…"
Celestine interrupted him quickly, her tone firm yet reassuring:
"Drink the medicine before your wounds worsen."
Milo felt the shock, but he understood the seriousness of her words. Slowly, his hands moved toward the medicine, with a hint of hesitation, while his eyes remained fixed on the wound on his stomach.
ilo took the bottle and drank it slowly, the cold liquid spreading through his body and transforming into a warm, soothing sensation that reached every tired muscle and inflamed wound. Within minutes, all scratches and cuts vanished, and the pain disappeared, leaving even his torn clothes seemingly untouched by the battle.
He sat on the ground, leaning on his hands, feeling relief for the first time since the fight began. His sweat and fatigue melted away, leaving his features sharp and striking: his wavy brown hair falling around his face, his piercing eyes gleaming with renewed intensity, and his muscular body displaying smooth power after the full recovery.
Milo looked at her with slight annoyance.
"Why are you here again? I never asked you to come to help me."
Celestine looked at him, calm and slightly positive.
"What now? Are you going to deny my help?"
Milo felt a twinge of shame.
"But I didn't ask for your help… this is my fight."
Celestine: "Kid, the Talented aren't just your enemies and besides, fighting inside Novara is forbidden anyway."
Milo stood up, brushing the dust off his body, his expression cold and firm.
"I don't care… just don't help me again. I'm not connected to you in any way."
Celestine's face shifted instantly, her eyes turning sharp as she grew serious.
"You reckless kid… you already know what would've happened to you if I hadn't come and stopped that fight."
Milo looked at her with unwavering conviction, resolute and unshaken:
"I'd rather die than accept pity from someone I don't even know…"
Celestine flared up for a moment at his stubbornness, her brows tightening
but she calmed herself instantly and let out a slow sigh:
"Damn it… you really are like your father, kid.
But this stubbornness won't help you, believe me."
Milo takes a step forward, his shoulders tense but steady. Dust still clings to his clothes, with small cuts scattered across his arm, yet his eyes burn with unwavering determination. His messy hair falls over part of his forehead, but he doesn't bother fixing it—there's only one path he sees ahead.
He walks past Celestine slowly, confidently, without even glancing her way.
Celestine asks, her voice calm but carrying a faint tone of command:
"And where do you think you're going?"
Milo answers without hesitation:
"I need to catch up to her."
Celestine watches him as he walks away… her black hair with a soft sheen resting neatly over her shoulders, giving her an air of authority. Her sharp violet eyes follow his back with a mix of seriousness and concern. Her posture remains perfectly straight, and her long cloak sways with the night breeze as if it were part of the darkness itself.
Then she says in a calm voice, one carrying a quiet but bitter truth:
"The weakness gap… theCelestine watches him as he walks away… her black hair with a soft sheen resting neatly over her shoulders, giving her an air of authority. Her sharp violet eyes follow his back with a mix of seriousness and concern. Her posture remains perfectly straight, and her long cloak sways with the night breeze as if it were part of the darkness itself.
Then she says in a calm voice, one carrying a quiet but bitter truth:
"The weakness gap…
Milo stopped walking and turned to her, his voice sharp:
Milo:
"What do you mean?"
Celestine lifted one hand to lightly cover her mouth, the other resting just beneath it. She leaned forward a little, speaking in a calm tone with a subtle, taunting edge:
Celestine:
"Do you hate my help… just because you're weak?"
Milo looked at her, slightly annoyed, though his gaze remained firm:
Milo:
"I'm not weak..."
Celestine nodded a little, as if agreeing with him, then spoke in a calm tone that carried a truth he didn't want to hear:
Celestine:
"Yes, you're right… but you feel like you're not at the level you should be."
She stepped a little closer, her eyes observing his tense expression:
"Your father, at your age, was gifted and incredibly strong… he surpassed every level with ease."
Milo was visibly affected, his shoulders dropping just slightly even as he tried to hide it.
Celestine continued, her voice more grounded, more direct:
Celestine:
"But you… you're not at his level when he was your age. You haven't surpassed any level yet. And even your special technique… you can't use it properly, and it drains you badly."
Milo clenched his fists tightly, lowering his head toward the ground, his teeth pressing together from the frustration he was trying to contain.
Celestine lowered her hand from her mouth slowly, then pointed a finger at him, her tone calm yet sharp like a blade:
Celestine:
"That's why you throw yourself into all these problems.
Because you want to prove the opposite of what I'm telling you right now… isn't that true?"
Milo didn't answer her.
He stayed silent for a moment, then turned and continued walking, his steps firm despite the frustration tightening in his chest.
But Celestine's voice stopped him again:
Celestine:
"What do you say… to a test?"
Milo halted once more and looked back at her, his eyes slightly widening:
Milo:
"A t-test?"
Celestine smiled calmly, a confident smile that showed she knew exactly what she was doing.
She slowly raised her hand… and lifted three fingers:
Celestine:
"Yes.
Three strikes."
She lowered her hand slightly, her tone becoming more serious:
"If you can land three clean hits on my face…
I won't interfere in your affairs ever again."
Celestine raised her right hand in front of her face, shielding it, while her left hand pointed toward Milo, her sharp gaze fixed on him, and a confident smile playing on her lips:
Celestine:
"So… what do you say, son of A"
Before she could finish, Milo lunged forward suddenly, his leg fully extended in a precise kick aimed directly at her face. His body leaned slightly forward, arms tensed to maintain balance, and his eyes burned with determination, as if he wanted to prove something not just to himself, but to everyone watching.
For a moment, Milo thought he had hit her, but he was quickly surprised when she caught his leg with her hand. Her poise and strength left him stunned:
Milo (to himself):
"Fast… but not fast enough…"
Milo stepped back after she released his leg, then lunged toward her again, delivering a rapid flurry of punches. Yet she dodged each strike with astonishing ease, retreating slowly with light, confident, and completely calm movements. Her steps were smooth, almost like a part of the air itself, and her gentle smile never left her face. Every motion was precise, as if she were toying with Milo's speed without exerting any noticeable effort.
Milo stopped abruptly, stepping back, taking a deep breath as he tried to gather his strength.
Milo (to himself, whispering):
"She's too fast… damn… I need to think of a plan…"
Celestine stood before him, her gaze steady, then lifted her hand to her mouth in a calm, almost silent gesture as if calling out to him without words.
Celestine:
"What… have you given up so quickly?"
Her gentle smile never left her face, but there was a hint of mockery and control in her tone, signaling that now she was waiting for his next move and that he had yet to prove himself.
Milo stepped forward, repeating the same initial kick toward her.
He raised his other leg, preparing a new strike.
Celestine's sharp eyes noticed the change immediately.
"Good… but your feint won't work on me," she said calmly, her voice steady as ever.
Milo had expected her to anticipate his right leg, so he attacked with his left instead.
Yet, despite the switch, she tilted her head back, narrowly avoiding the blow.
Frustrated but determined, Milo stopped, gathering his focus.
He then swung a punch toward her, aiming for her head as she remained bent backward.
Even this strike, however, she dodged effortlessly, moving with controlled steps backward light, confident, and perfectly calm.
Ten minutes passed like this, and Milo still hadn't managed to land a single hit.
He stopped, panting heavily, sweat running down his face.
"Damn… I couldn't even hit her once…" he muttered under his breath.
Celestine looked at him with a slight smile.
"What… are you tired already? We've only just begun," she said, her voice calm and teasing.
Milo gave her a determined smile.
"No other choice, then."
He gathered his remaining energy, a fierce aura beginning to radiate from him.
"I'll bet everything I've got left," he said, focusing every ounce of his strength.
Milo's energy flared a deep red, swirling around his body like molten fire, and his left eye gradually turned red, glowing with intensity.
Celestine's eyes widened slightly as she observed the change.
"Ah… your unique ability," she whispered, her tone a mix of awe and intrigue.
Milo hunched over, his back curved slightly, and let out a frustrated sigh.
He looked up, his gaze sharp despite his exhaustion.
His hair seemed to change subtly, becoming thicker and a bit shorter, while a dark red aura enveloped his body, pulsating with raw energy.
A small, determined smile spread across Milo's face as he looked at Celestine.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice steady and full of resolve.
Celestine's eyes flickered over him, noting the subtle changes in his appearance.
"You look… different, somehow," she said, her tone calm but curious. "Alright, show me what you've got."
Milo took a step forward, intent on closing the distance. But suddenly, he stumbled and collapsed to the ground, fainting instantly. His red aura vanished, leaving him completely unconscious.
Celestine stood still for a moment, her eyes fixed on Milo, who lay unconscious on the ground. She let out a slow sigh, her voice carrying a hint of sorrow as she whispered to herself:
"So… you failed?… I can't blame you, you were exhausted…"
Carefully, she leaned forward, attempting to touch him gently, to check on him. But suddenly, she froze and snapped back, retreating with astonishing speed.
In the dim light of the alley, a figure stood tall, his presence immediately commanding attention. Green hair fell over his face and shoulders, catching the faint glow from the street lamps. In his hands, he held a large, menacing scythe, the blade gleaming dangerously as he shifted his stance.
Toxivar knelt beside Milo, his gaze fixed on him with a faint, almost mocking smile.
"Hmmm… looks like you lost again, Milo," he said calmly.
Celestine's sharp eyes shifted to Toxivar, her voice firm and cautious:
"Who… who are you?"
Toxivar ignored her completely, his attention remaining solely on Milo.
"You know… someday, you'll become one of the troublemakers too, won't you, Milo?" he added, a subtle hint of amusement in his tone.
Celestine lunged forward toward Toxivar, her movements swift and precise. She grabbed Milo's hand and aimed it toward Toxivar's neck, her intent clear.
Toxivar reacted instantly, stepping back just in time to avoid the strike, his green hair brushing against his face as he moved.
Without hesitation, Celestine pulled Milo close, holding him firmly beside her. Her eyes remained locked on Toxivar, ready for any sudden move, while her body radiated controlled tension and strength.
Toxivar looked at Celestine, a sinister smile playing on his lips.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice calm but carrying a subtle menace.
Celestine's eyes locked on him, sharp and unwavering.
"This question is for you," she said firmly. "What are you doing here?"
The street felt tense and heavy, the only sound being the distant echo of the city, as the two figures faced each other while Milo remained completely unaware at her side.
Toxivar let out a slow sigh, tilting his head slightly before a dark, wicked smile stretched across his face.
"Ah… ah. So I guess I'll just have to kill you," he said softly, almost playfully.
"Then I'll take Milo with me."
His grip tightened slightly on the scythe, the blade lowering just a little enough to show he wasn't joking. His green hair shifted with the faint breeze, and his eyes gleamed with a predatory calmness.
Celestine smiled at him—a confident, almost amused smile.
"Oh, boy… did you hit your head on something?" she asked calmly.
"Kill me?"
Without breaking eye contact, she pulled out her phone and lifted it to her ear.
"Hello," she said sweetly, as if she were making a casual call.
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you."
Her eyes stayed locked on Toxivar's as her smile sharpened.
"I'm just dealing with a small… issue," she continued.
"There's a strange-looking boy here threatening to kill me. Could you please take care of him? I'm very busy."
She paused for a second then smiled wider.
"Thank you for your cooperation."
She lowered the phone and shut it off with a soft click, still wearing that calm, unbothered smile.
Toxivar lunged forward with explosive speed, his scythe gripped tightly, its dark blade cutting the air as he aimed straight for her neck.
His voice echoed as he closed in:
"Bring whoever you want… I'll kill you, kill them, and take what I want."
Celestine didn't even move.
She simply looked at him… then sighed, as if listening to a child's tantrum.
"Not even scared?"
Her tone shifted instantly—
Sharp, confident, commanding.
"Tier four technique: Wind Walk."
A burst of pure green wind erupted beneath her feet, launching her upward with incredible force while she held Milo securely in her arms.
She soared above the street, her white hair flowing behind her like a ribbon.
Then she turned her head back toward Toxivar with a relaxed, teasing smile.
"Catch me if you can."
As the wind settled, she stood on a high ledge overlooking him.
And down below…
Toxivar stared up at her, rage blazing in his eyes, a faint dark aura beginning to seep from his body.
Toxivar gripped his scythe tightly, charging it with a liquid green energy that dripped onto the ground, looking like scorching poison sizzling on the pavement.
Celestine backed away, moving lightly from rooftop to rooftop, a shadow dancing between the buildings.
Then Toxivar leapt into the air with incredible force, his expression glowing with rage and dominance, a sinister smile curling on his lips.
His green energy radiated so brightly, blazing around him like a fire refusing to die out.
Celestine stared at him in astonishment, her eyes widening:
"O-oh…"
Toxivar spun rapidly, raising his scythe high as he chanted:
"Toxic Dragon Strike!"
A brilliant green beam erupted from the blade, morphing into the terrifying shape of a dragon's jaw as it surged toward Celestine.
The sheer force of the attack threw Toxivar backward, slamming him onto the ground. Green, toxic energy crackled and oozed around his body, dripping onto the floor like molten venom, illuminating the area with a deadly glow.
The green dragon-jaw beam soared through the sky, droplets of toxic energy raining down onto the ground and surrounding rooftops. Some of Novara's city guards paused, eyes wide with shock.
"What… what is that?!" one of them exclaimed.
Celestine's eyes narrowed, staring at the beam heading straight for her.
"This insane boy… this attack could kill Milo and me both!" she thought.
Resolute and confident, she activated her technique:
Tier 2 Technique: Barrier
A shimmering, violet shield materialized before her in the shape of a protective armor.
"Haah! Block it!" Celestine shouted with unwavering determination.
The toxic dragon beam slammed into her barrier with tremendous force. The shield shuddered, energy cracking and fracturing as the beam pushed through.
Refusing to give way, Celestine released Milo, raising both hands.
"Haahhhhhh!" she roared, channeling all her strength to fully repel the attack.
A massive explosion erupted, shaking the ears of everyone in the vicinity and sending waves of energy rippling through the streets.
People watched from their homes, eyes wide with awe and fear at the chaotic scene unfolding in the streets.
Toxivar sat on the ground, observing everything, a twisted smile on his face partly angry, partly satisfied.
"She blocked it…" he muttered to himself.
Droplets of toxic green energy fell from the remnants of his dragon-jaw beam, sizzling as they hit the cobblestones. Some came dangerously close to Milo, but Celestine shielded him, taking the brunt herself.
The corrosive drops splashed onto her hand and thigh. She clenched her teeth, suppressing the pain, refusing to let it break her concentration.
Glancing at her hand, she saw minor burns forming, and a small burn on her thigh as well. She exhaled slowly, determination flickering in her eyes despite the sting of the injury.
A group of Novara police officers moved swiftly through the narrow alleys. Some of them looked up and spotted Celestine on the rooftop.
"It's Lady Celestine!" one of them exclaimed.
"Are you alright?!" another shouted, concern in their voices.
Celestine glanced down at them, her expression calm yet urgent.
"Hurry, catch that boy before he escapes! Don't worry about me," she commanded firmly, pointing toward Toxivar's location.
Her eyes flicked to her hand, noticing the minor burns.
"The healing potion I had… I gave it to Milo..." she thought, a small pang of worry crossing her mind as she prepared to continue the fight.
"Damn… I'm so exhausted," Celestine muttered, carrying Milo and stepping back cautiously.
"I'll leave the rest to the Novara police."
Meanwhile, Toxivar sat on the ground, his gaze fixed on his glowing scythe. The faint green light reflected off his sharp edges, giving him a menacing aura.
A small group of Novara police officers surrounded him, their weapons ready. One of them stepped forward and spoke with authority:
"You are under arrest for acts of sabotage, boy."
Toxivar's eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and irritation, his posture relaxed yet tense, as if ready for whatever might come next.
One of the officers raised a scanning device toward Toxivar. The screen flickered then flashed red.
He stared at it in surprise.
"It didn't identify him…"
Another officer muttered,
"He might be an outsider someone from outside Novara."
Weapons were immediately raised as Toxivar slowly stood up.
He brushed the dust off his clothes casually, almost lazily… then lifted his face with a wicked grin stretching across it.
"You're all so annoying…"
He pointed his glowing green scythe toward one of the officers.
"I'll kill every single one of you tonight."
The night air grew heavy. The sky above Novara darkened unnaturally, as if the toxic light around Toxivar was devouring the stars.
Green mist leaked from his scythe, spreading like poison through the alleyway.
The rooftops trembled from the earlier explosion, dust drifting in the air.
Citizens peered from cracked windows, their breaths held in fear.
A chilling wind blew through the narrow streets, carrying the faint smell of burning toxin.
The whole city seemed to hold its breath…
right before violence erupted again.