The sun was low, casting a deep red and soft orange hue across the horizon. The training field itself glowed in the fading light of day, and Yukio lay flat on his back, arms sprawled wide, staring at the sky like a man who'd just survived a war.
He had spent the last few hours trying—failing—and trying again to perfect the Wind Sphere.
"Man, training like this is brutal,"
He groaned.
"Whose brilliant idea was this, anyway?"
He felt as if every muscle in his body was melting, his head pounded, and even his thoughts were sluggish. The combination of physical drills and magic practice had wrung him dry.
Suddenly, a familiar silver-haired face appeared upside-down in his line of vision. Michibiki leaned over him, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. She tapped his forehead lightly.
"You dummy,"
She said,
"You're the one who begged to learn magic. So stop whining."
And before he could protest, she raised her right hand.
"Light Magic: Advanced Heal."
A soft green circle shimmered into existence above him, bathing his body in gentle light. Warmth flowed through him, easing every ache and washing away the fatigue until he felt almost new again.
Yukio sat up, blinking.
"Wait—really? You could have healed me before we started magic training?"
Michibiki chuckled, her tone far too pleased.
"I was testing your endurance. I wanted to see how you'd handle a fight against someone several times stronger than you."
He shot her a deadpan look.
"Testing my skill, my ass. You were enjoying yourself. Angel? More like a demon."
Her silver eyes gleamed red for an instant.
"Say that again,"
She said, smiling dangerously.
Yukio opened his mouth—mostly to push his luck—and didn't even see the punch coming.
A moment later he was tumbling backward, sliding across the grass and splashing straight into the river.
He surfaced, spluttering, his hair plastered across his face. Michibiki stood at the edge of the bank, looking altogether too pleased with herself.
"I already stored your armor and weapons,"
She said sweetly.
"Guess you're walking back to the inn in wet clothes."
Yukio groaned, pushing his soaked bangs out of his eyes.
"Yeah, totally not a demon,"
He muttered under his breath.
The forest came alive with the sounds of evening. Crickets chirped in steady rhythm, and the faint glow of fireflies flickered between the trees. By the time Yukio and Michibiki made it back to the dirt road, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving behind streaks of violet and amber across the sky.
Yukio trudged along beside her, soaked clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin. Every squelching step reminded him of his recent "flight" into the river. He cracked his back with a groan.
"You know,"
He said, shooting her a sidelong glance.
"You might have healed me, but you still did a number on my spine when you tossed me into that tree."
Michibiki glanced over at him, the corner of her lip curling into a sly smile.
"Correction,"
She said, clearing her throat in mock seriousness.
"You were an object in motion, and I was an unbalanced force. I simply redirected your trajectory… into that tree."
Yukio halted, mid-step, for half a second. He stared at her like she'd just rewritten the laws of reality.
"That's not how physics works!"
Michibiki clasped her hands behind her back, a smug and unconcerned tone.
"Mmm, it kinda does."
He groaned.
"You're impossible."
"Thank you,"
She said sweetly.
The faint crunch of gravel filled in the silence between their words as the road stretched ahead, winding through dark trees and faint patches of moonlight. For a moment, it was peaceful—just the two of them, trading soft laughter under the canopy of night.
The night had fallen on Primordia like a soft blanket, and lanterns flickered along the dirt road as Yukio and Michibiki finally reached the inn; the air was abuzz with the hum of cicadas and the faint scent of grilled meat wafted from inside.
Yukio tugged on his still-damp sleeve, grumbling under his breath.
"Man, I swear I can feel the river judging me. Who even trains like this?"
Michibiki replied, not turning her head and walking ahead, with the faintest smirk,
"You, apparently. You're the one who insisted on 'learning magic.'"
"Yeah, but I didn't mean nearly drowning and dying,"
Yukio muttered, cracking his back with a groan.
She laughed softly.
"Oh, stop complaining. You should be thanking me—now you've got both combat experience and swimming practice."
Yukio shot her a glare.
"Oh, great. Can't wait to put that on my adventurer resume."
Michibiki shrugged innocently.
"See? I'm building your skill set. Multitasking at its finest."
Yukio let out a sigh and shook his head.
"Right. What's the next lesson—getting struck by lightning so I can learn thunder magic the hard way?"
Michibiki grinned over her shoulder.
"Depends how mouthy you get tonight."
Before he could argue, the inn's wooden doors burst open with a roar of laughter and clattering mugs. Warm light spilled out, washing them both in a golden glow.
"Quiet dinner,"
Yukio said hopefully.
"With your luck?"
Michibiki smirked.
"Not a chance."
They stepped inside.
The tavern was alive — packed with adventurers, merchants, and locals fresh from the day's work. The smell of roasted meat and ale mingled with music from a bard in the corner. But the noise wasn't from the song.
Nearer to the center, a crowd had gathered around a big wooden table. Cheers erupted as one burly man's arm slammed down against the wood, losing to a shorter, dark-haired girl who grinned triumphantly, her hammer propped against her seat.
"That's what you get for underestimating a blacksmith's daughter!"
She said, brushing soot from her cheek. The crowd whooped, and someone tossed a coin. She caught it midair without missing a beat.
Michibiki sighed, looking at Yukio and pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Oh no. I know that look."
"What look?"
Curious, Yukio asked:
"The look that says trouble's about to find you."
Before Yukio could respond, the girl saw him from across the room. Her crimson eyes danced in sparkles, and her grin broadened.
She pushed her way through the crowd, hammer resting on her shoulder like it weighed nothing.
"You,"
She pointed at Yukio with a calloused finger.
"You've got the face of someone who thinks he could beat me."
Yukio blinked.
"Uh—what? No, no, I was just—uh—admiring your form."
Michibiki coughed, not quite concealing a laugh.
"Smooth as sandpaper."
The girl laughed, a bold, rich sound.
"Flattery and excuses. You are an adventurer. So how about it, pretty boy? A wager. Loser buys the next round."
Yukio's grin gradually returned, with that familiar glint of mischief lighting up his eyes.
"A wager? I never turn those down."
They took their places at the table amidst cheers from the crowd. Michibiki sighed, easing back in her chair and crossing her arms.
"Here we go again,"
She murmured.
Kaede cocked an elbow, smashing down with a grin.
"Name's Kaede Ebonforge. Don't cry when I break your pride."
"Yukio,"
He replied, matching her stance.
"And I don't cry. I gloat."
Their hands clasped, rough skin meeting calloused palms. The tavern held its breath while the barkeep raised his hand and dropped it.
"Go!"
Kaede pushed first, her strength immediate and overwhelming. Yukio's arm trembled, nearly forced down in an instant.
"Aw, come on, is that all you've got?"
Kaede teased, her muscles flexing as she leaned forward.
Yukio forced a grin, gritting his teeth.
"Nah. Just… calculating the odds."
Michibiki watched from the sidelines, shaking her head but unable to hide a small smile.
"Here it comes."
Yukio's eyes flickered with faint light, the tiniest shimmer of gold. His Wheel of Providence wasn't turning, but his luck was whispering.
Kaede blinked as her grip faltered for a split second, which was enough for Yukio to twist his wrist and push back.
The table creaked. Their arms locked halfway, neither giving in. Beads of sweat appeared on both their foreheads.
Then, with one final surge, Yukio's arm dipped lower—then snapped upward with a desperate, reckless burst of strength.
Thud.
Kaede's knuckles struck the table.
Silence, for one heartbeat.
Then the tavern erupted into cheers.
Yukio slumped back, panting and grinning like an idiot.
"Hah! Beginner's luck, maybe."
Kaede stared at him with wide eyes—then broke into a grin.
"Beginner's luck, huh? Sure. Let's go with that."
She swung the hammer up onto her shoulder with a grin.
"You've got guts, Yukio. The dumb kind—but I'll give you points for effort."
Yukio chuckled.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
She laughed and clapped him hard on the back—hard enough that he almost face-planted into the table.
"Not bad, lucky boy. If you ever need a weapon that won't snap mid-fight, come to my forge. I'll even give you a discount—maybe."
As she turned to go, Michibiki leaned toward Yukio, her tone dry.
"Looks like you've made a friend."
Yukio rubbed his sore arm, still grinning.
"Nah. Just another gamble that paid off."