The dawn fell slowly over the planet where Daru and Nekotyna were, spreading a golden mantle over the mansion of the man of darkness. The faint light filtered through the tall, elegant windows, bathing the silent halls in a warm glow. The mansion belonged to Daru, and every room, every column, every garden carried the unmistakable scent of dark magic mixed with the perfume of nocturnal flowers.
Nekotyna opened her eyes in the room where she had slept: one of Daru's guest rooms, though she had taken it as her own temporarily. She rose slowly, her ears twitching with unease.
"Jay still hasn't returned… did something happen to him?" she thought, her tail lowering slightly in worry.
She left the room and began descending the black marble stairs. Her steps were so light they barely echoed. The mansion, vast and elegant, seemed emptier than usual without Jay wandering through it.
In the main dining hall, three maids hurried to approach her.
"Lady Nekotyna, what would you like for breakfast?" asked one, bowing respectfully.
"Bread and meat," the girl replied bluntly.
The maids nodded quickly. Nekotyna continued toward the courtyard, longing to feel a bit of fresh air.
The exterior of the mansion was immense, a gigantic garden where the grass still shimmered with morning dew. And in the midst of that landscape, Daru was kneeling, almost pressed to the ground, staring at it with absurd intensity.
"Jay… where the hell are you?" Daru muttered, moving his hand among stones and leaves. "How does a little flame the size of a candle swallow you? How do you get lost with something so small?!"
He seemed to be searching for a tiny insect or a stray grain of sugar. His hand swept the ground as if expecting to find Jay in the form of sand.
Nekotyna coughed softly.
Daru jumped so abruptly he nearly fell flat on his face. He turned slowly, eyes tense, a bead of sweat sliding down his forehead.
"H-hey, Nekotyna… ready for this wonderful second day? Jay came and went, so don't worry about him. Everything is under control! Completely… under control," he said with a forced smile.
Nekotyna narrowed her eyes, as if trying to pierce him with her gaze.
Daru swallowed hard.
"By the way… uh… can you read?" he asked suddenly.
She didn't answer. She only stared.
Trying to salvage the conversation, Daru pulled out a paper with the strange letters of that world and handed it to her.
"This says your name, right?"
Nekotyna took it, looked at it for a moment, and shook her head.
"I know how to write my name. Give me a quill."
"Ah, of course, of course," Daru fumbled in his pocket and handed her a quill with exaggerated haste.
Nekotyna wrote with elegant, confident strokes. She traced her name in the local language… Nekotyna.
With a "y." A small but decisive variation.
Daru's eyes widened.
"So… Jay and I… all this time we said it wrong?"
"Yes," she replied, handing back the paper. "But I never cared."
A nervous, almost trembling chuckle escaped Daru.
"Hehe… well… glad to know… je… then… let's begin today's training… before Jay returns," he said, opening space in the courtyard.
Nekotyna followed him, though her eyes clearly showed she didn't believe a word he said.
The sun finished rising, bathing everything in warm light. The magical birds in the garden began to sing soft melodies, as if the morning wanted to be perfect.
But beneath that apparent tranquility, there was a dissonant note: Jay was missing. Nekotyna was worried. And Daru was trying to hide what he knew.
The training was only just beginning, but the day carried with it a strange omen— as if the very air whispered that something was about to change.
Dawn painted the courtyard of Daru's mansion with a soft, almost pale light, as if the sun still hesitated to fully awaken. The morning breeze carried a faint scent of damp leaves and cold stone. There, in the center of the vast Eicker courtyard, two figures faced each other in silence: Daru and Nekotyna.
He stood tall, relaxed, his katana resting on his shoulder as if the morning were nothing more than a game. She, small and barefoot on the polished ground, her silver fur gleaming under the dawn light. Her ears twitched restlessly, catching every sound, and her silver tail swayed with contained nerves.
Daru's three maids crossed the courtyard in perfect formation, carrying three identical boxes. They stopped, bowed in flawless synchronization, and placed the boxes beside their master. Then they withdrew in silence, vanishing through the side doors like well‑trained shadows.
"Begin, girl," Daru said firmly, without even taking a defensive stance.
Nekotyna frowned. His tone irritated her, but it also pushed her to prove more than her small body seemed capable of. She drew a shallow breath, tightened her grip on the Scorpion's Heart, and then…
Her eyes changed. From their usual silver, a golden glow—warm, almost feline—spread across her irises, lighting them like two spheres of gentle fire.
Magic awakened.
The girl extended a hand, and in a voice soft, almost a whisper, she recited the reversed spell:
"—otneiv ed sachelf—"
The air around her vibrated as if someone had plucked an invisible string. Wind swirled, lifting her silver fringe and bending the grass at her feet. Above her head, translucent arrows of compressed air formed, spinning like small lances born of the breeze.
With a flick of her arm, the arrows shot toward Daru.
But the man didn't even step back. He moved his katana lightly, as if swatting an insect, and each arrow disintegrated at the blade's touch. The edge cut through the magic with insulting ease.
"Too slow," Daru said, yawning, as if the display were nothing more than a summer breeze brushing his face.
The girl clenched her teeth. Her tail bristled faintly.
She inhaled deeply. Again.
Her golden eyes glowed brighter.
"—otneiv alob—"
A sphere of compressed air formed before her chest, rippling, pulsing. She hurled it forward, and this time the attack left a trail of wind that shook the leaves of nearby trees.
Daru tilted his head, smiled faintly, and traced a simple diagonal slash.
The sphere exploded as if it had struck an invisible wall, dissipating into a sigh of breeze.
Nekotyna panted. Magic drained her body, tugging at her muscles and pressing against her chest. The golden glow in her eyes flickered and faded, returning to silver. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a potion, and drank it without expression.
Daru approached slowly, his calm steps contrasting with the girl's ragged breaths.
"Again," he ordered.
She lifted her gaze, silver eyes reflecting a mix of stubbornness and resignation. But she obeyed.
The golden light returned. The wind stirred. Arrows formed. The attack launched. The clean cut. The total destruction.
Again and again.
Morning turned to noon, and the blue sky seemed to watch the scene with the same patience as Daru. The air smelled of scattered magic and fatigue. Nekotyna had already consumed several potions, and each time she released a spell, her body trembled a little more—though her gaze never lost that proud spark.
Finally, Daru lowered his sword and said:
"You have determination, little one. But you're still far. Very far. Even so… you're not bad."
Nekotyna exhaled softly. She didn't know if it was praise or mockery, but for some reason, those words made her tail twitch with a faint, involuntary beat.
"We'll continue," Daru added, stretching his arms as if waking from a nap. "Until Jay returns… or until you finally make me step back even once."
She lifted her gaze. Met his eyes.
Then said:
"I will."
The wind stirred at that instant. And Daru smiled with a strange pride—almost fraternal.
Time in Daru's mansion courtyard seemed to move differently than in the outside world. The sun, which at the start of training had barely peeked through the clouds, now stood at its highest point, pouring down a white light that made the wet grass and tree leaves shimmer. Yet for Nekotyna, the sky felt unmoving… or perhaps it was her body that no longer distinguished between a minute and an eternity.
The training was always the same.
A cycle without rest. A circle that began anew the moment she managed to catch a breath.
Nekotyna raised her hand. She inhaled deeply, forcing air into lungs that trembled as if made of glass. Her eyes shifted from soft silver to a faint gold, like a hidden light deep within an ancient temple.
And then she recited the reversed spell.
First, the rain of wind arrows. A cluster of transparent darts born from the sound of a whisper, as if the world itself breathed through her. They rose into the sky, formed, and then descended upon Daru with the speed of compressed gale.
Each time, her heart jolted painfully, as if an invisible cord tightened around it.
But the result was always the same.
Daru simply moved his sword. No grand gesture, not even a solemn stance. Sometimes the motion was so small a distracted observer wouldn't notice. The blade cut the air, and the arrows dissolved like sand swept away by water.
Nothing touched him. Nothing reached him. Nothing unsettled him.
Then Nekotyna recited the second spell.
The sphere of wind.
A swirling mass spun before her, lifting her silver hair and making the tips of her ears tremble. The sphere always carried a soft roar, like the lament of a spirit trapped in a vortex. It was powerful… at least for someone of Nekotyna's age and strength.
She hurled it forward with clumsy determination.
The sphere advanced, twisting the grass in its path, raising dust and vibrations. But before it could become a threat…
Daru split it.
A single thrust. He didn't even pause to watch the explosion of dissipated wind, simply ignored it as if it were a passing breeze brushing his shoulder.
Once more, Nekotyna saw her effort vanish. And inevitably, she collapsed to her knees.
Exhaustion struck like a wave dragging everything away. Her chest burned so much each breath felt like fire entering her lungs. Her silver tail lay limp on the ground, too drained to move. Sweat ran down her forehead, mixing with dirt and grass crushed beneath her weight.
She drank an orb‑recovery potion. She didn't know if it was the third, the seventh, or the tenth since morning; she had lost count hours ago. She didn't want to think about it. She only wanted… to finish the cycle. Or rather, to surpass it, even by a single inch.
But whenever she lifted her gaze…
Daru was still there.
Standing. Serene. Unshaken.
His shadow stretched over her like a mountain impossible to climb. A solid, firm presence, so immense it sometimes seemed the entire world rested on his back.
"Up," he said, with the same calm voice as always.
No trace of fatigue. No hint of annoyance. No mocking gesture.
Just an order. Cold, sharp, undeniable.
And Nekotyna, panting, trembling, her legs stiff as stone, rose again.
And the cycle began anew.
Wind arrows. Perfect cut. Wind sphere. Immediate destruction. Collapse. Potion. Restart.
Eight hours passed like this.
The sun's light softened. The sky took on a warmer tone, as if the afternoon were preparing to unfold. The breeze had changed too; no longer fresh and light, but heavier, carrying the scent of churned earth, sweat, and dust raised by magic repeated countless times.
Nekotyna could barely feel her hands. Her fingers tingled, her breathing was uneven, her legs shook like thin branches in a storm. And yet, her eyes… her silver eyes, though dim, though weary, still held a faint spark deep inside.
A spark. Fragile. Tiny. But real.
Daru watched in silence.
Perhaps he didn't say it, perhaps he would never show it, but at some point in those eight hours, even he had noticed the change. Not in her power. Not in the strength of her spells.
But in the gaze she carried.
A gaze no longer just of a tired child… but of someone beginning to challenge the world with every breath.
"We continue," Daru murmured, without raising his voice.
Nekotyna swallowed. Her hand trembled. But she stepped forward.
And once again… the wind began to awaken around her.
The day was not yet over. And neither was the cycle.
The sun was sinking slowly, painting the sky in shades of orange and violet that blended with the softness of the evening breeze. The courtyard of Daru's mansion, silent after eight hours of training, was scarred with marks on the grass—remnants of Nekotyna's endless wind spells and Daru's clean katana cuts.
Nekotyna, exhausted, held a potion in her small trembling hands. Her silver wolf ears drooped to the sides like withered petals. Each sip brought back a spark of strength, but her eyes revealed just how harsh the day had been.
Daru, arms crossed, watched her with a tired yet relaxed expression. When he saw her finish the potion, he spoke in a tone half‑mocking, half gentler than before.
"Alright, girl. That's enough for today," he said, stretching exaggeratedly until his back cracked. "He should be back soon… I think."
Nekotyna lifted her gaze, her silver eyes glinting faintly.
"You think?" she asked, a small crease forming on her brow.
Daru looked away, scratching his cheek—a nervous gesture he tried to hide.
"Yeah, well… you know how Jay is. He comes and goes. He'll show up out of nowhere, like always," he replied with a soft laugh. But the laugh was forced, as if he were trying to convince her… or himself.
The truth was simple: Daru had no idea where Jay was. He only knew Jay had vanished in a flash far too suspicious. But he couldn't tell Nekotyna. He didn't want to worry her—or admit that his brother might be in unknown danger.
Nekotyna stared at him with that wolfish look that seemed to see through everything.
Silence fell.
"You and Jay… what are you?" she asked firmly, her eyes never leaving his.
Daru blinked, startled, as if the question had struck him directly.
"Jay? Jay is my brother. Two months younger than me," he answered quickly, almost defensively.
Nekotyna tilted her head slightly, her silver tail swaying slowly behind her.
"If you're brothers… why is he Baker and you Eicker?"
A soft wind passed between them, stirring dry leaves across the ground, giving the moment a solemn weight.
"Oh, that," Daru lowered his gaze. "We're half‑brothers. Same father. I'm Daru Eicker of the Andes, and he's Jay Baker of the Andes."
"…Of the Andes?" Nekotyna repeated, her tone strange, as if those words didn't belong to her world.
"Yes, that's right," Daru replied, trying to sound casual, though he knew there was nothing casual about that origin. "Well, girl, go shower and eat something. I'll…" he paused for a moment, "…I'll get ready in case I have to go out and… you know, look for him."
It was a gray lie—one he hoped he wouldn't have to turn into truth. His smile tightened slightly. Nekotyna noticed, but said nothing.
Both began walking toward the mansion's entrance, their footsteps breaking the silence of dusk. Nekotyna moved with weary steps; Daru carried a mind full of doubts, hidden beneath a carefree mask.
But just as they were about to enter…
A strange sound rose behind them.
At first, a faint hum, like compressed air whispering. Then it grew, vibrating through the courtyard until the leaves of the trees trembled.
And then came the crack.
A violent fissure, as if the sky itself were splitting apart.
Nekotyna turned instantly, her silver ears bristling. Daru spun as well, his hand already gripping the hilt of his katana—instinct overriding any trace of earlier nerves.
At the center of the courtyard, reality itself bent. The air distorted with a dark, crimson glow, pulsing like a frantic heart. Cracks in space opened like luminous scars.
Something was emerging.
Something neither of them expected.
Nekotyna's eyes widened. Daru's face lost all the false calm he had worn throughout the day.
And what appeared between the fractures…
…was—