The morning after Red's magic display was unlike any before.
There was no laughter at breakfast.
No teasing.
No sleepy yawns.
Only a quiet intensity that hung in the air like mist over a battlefield.
They had seen what was possible, what mastery looked like. Now, the question wasn't whether they could reach it.
It was whether they dared to try.
Selena stood in the training yard just as the sun broke the horizon, already mid-swing. Her sword moved in tight arcs, the tip barely flickering as she drilled block after block. Her silver hair clung to her neck, and sweat soaked her shirt, but she didn't stop.
Across from her, Lio gritted his teeth as he lunged forward again, practice blade cutting through the air. He wasn't holding back.
Clang!
Selena blocked.
Again.
Clang!
The two moved in a rhythm. One attacked. One defended. Switch.
Neither spoke.
Neither needed to.
They were no longer sparring.
They were sharpening.
Every strike a promise.
Every block a vow.
From the porch, Yuzu sat watching, hugging her staff to her chest.
She could feel it, the change in the air.
Everyone was burning.
And she was still… behind.
Her heart thudded painfully.
Farther back in the yard, Rika sprinted up and down the line of wooden posts, bow in hand. She skidded, notched, fired, again and again, arrows thudding into targets with ever-increasing accuracy.
The wind tugged at her ponytail.
The muscles in her arms trembled from fatigue.
But her golden eyes never wavered.
Each shot sang with purpose.
I won't fall behind. Not to a swordsman. Not to a monster. And not to fate.
She sprinted again, drew, and fired.
Thud.
Bullseye.
She allowed herself a tiny smirk.
Yuzu stood now.
Took a breath.
And stepped toward the open field.
She moved away from the others, just far enough to be alone.
Her hands trembled slightly as she raised her staff.
"[Fire Ball]," she whispered.
A small flicker of flame formed and danced forward, controlled, soft, and accurate. It struck a wooden dummy with a satisfying puff of smoke.
Then again.
"[Fire Ball]."
And again.
Again.
Again.
The spell grew hotter, the flow faster.
But with each cast, her vision blurred a little more. Her hands ached. Her temples pounded. Mana surged and then sagged.
"[Fire—]" She choked on the word, stumbling.
Her knees buckled.
And she threw up.
Hard.
She collapsed to all fours, gasping, eyes burning with tears of pain and humiliation.
Lio saw it from the corner of the yard. He dropped his training sword without thinking and rushed toward her.
Lio: "Yuzu!"
She looked up, trying to hide it.
Yuzu: "D-don't..."
But he was already there, kneeling beside her.
"You pushed too far," he said, reaching into the pouch on his belt and uncorking a small water flask.
"I'm… I'm fine," she muttered, turning away.
"Your lips are pale. Your hands are ice." He offered the water. "Here."
She hesitated, then took it and drank slowly. Her hands shook.
Yuzu: "I thought… if I worked harder… I could catch up."
Lio sat back, watching her for a moment. Then, softly:
Lio: "You don't need to catch up. You just need to keep going."
Yuzu sniffled, blinking away tears. "I almost hit you with another fireball yesterday."
Lio: "You did hit me."
She winced.
"And I still have the scars," he added with a dramatic sigh.
She blinked. "You… you're joking?"
He smiled. "A little. But hey—"
He leaned forward and brushed a bit of soot from her cheek with a thumb.
Lio: "I still like you better warm than freezing cold."
Yuzu's heart skipped.
Lio realized what he'd said and flushed bright red.
Lio: "I...I meant, your fire's good! I mean, hot! No! Not hot like that!"
She giggled. Weakly, but genuinely.
He scratched the back of his head and stood, offering his hand.
She took it.
And for a second, neither let go.
Then she whispered, "Thanks."
He smiled. "Anytime."
They walked back together, silent, but side by side.
Elsewhere, unnoticed by the others, Hina walked with Red.
They moved slowly toward the far edge of the property, where the trees grew thicker and the morning light faded under leaf cover.
"Why here?" Hina asked softly.
"You need stillness," Red replied.
She nodded.
They stopped at a mossy clearing. Red drew a line in the dirt.
Red: "This is your space. No noise. No interruptions. I'll watch. You'll focus."
Hina stepped into the circle.
She took a deep breath, then knelt.
Hands over her heart, eyes closed.
Red remained silent, only observing.
For Hina, the world narrowed.
No swords.
No yelling.
No flashy fireballs or flying arrows.
Only breath. Rhythm. Light.
She reached inward.
And slowly… her palms began to glow.
Faint. Gentle.
Soft like moonlight on water.
It flickered, then stabilized.
Red spoke from the edge.
Red: "You're a priestess in the making. Not a warrior. But your strength is just as dangerous, or valuable, as theirs."
She nodded, eyes still shut.
Red: "Don't let silence make you doubt yourself."
Hina's voice came soft, but steady. "I won't."
That evening, the team reunited around the table.
Their hands were blistered.
Their bodies bruised.
But their eyes…
Their eyes held fire.
Selena had a wrapped arm from blocking Lio's full swing.
Rika's hair was full of leaves and dirt.
Yuzu's hands still trembled faintly, but she wore a proud smile.
Lio's shirt had a fresh burn mark on the hem, from yet another fireball attempt.
Hina carried the faint glow of mana fatigue, her posture serene.
They ate slowly, no longer rushing or talking over each other.
Just chewing, breathing, thinking.
Training.
Growing.
Red watched them from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed.
He said nothing.
But his gaze lingered on each of them, one by one.
He saw the bruises.
The pride.
The spark.
They were still far from ready.
Still raw.
Still vulnerable.
But now, they were burning.
And some of them…
Were beginning to bloom.