Casimir stood at the center of the ring the boys had formed, his eyes steady and his expression almost bored, as if this was just another drill. There wasn't a flicker of panic—if anything, he looked slightly impatient. Suddenly, a fist shot toward him from behind, the sound of air splitting the only warning. Casimir shifted his weight and slipped to the side with a practiced ease, letting the punch sail harmlessly past him. The boy behind, carried by his own momentum, stumbled forward and crashed to the ground, the attack backfiring spectacularly.
No sooner had Casimir dodged than Dawson and the remaining boy lunged at him, fists pulled back and eyes blazing. They struck in near-perfect unison, but Casimir moved on instinct: he dipped low, sweeping his leg out and sending Dawson sprawling to the dirt in a tangle of limbs. Even as Dawson fell, the other boy's punch caught Casimir square in the ribs—a solid hit that stole his breath for a split second. He winced, but his stance didn't falter. The first boy was still groaning on the ground, Dawson was blinking up at the sky in shock, and Casimir, despite the ache in his side, looked ready for whatever came next.
The remaining boy keeps throwing punches which are effortlessly dodged. Looking for a moment to counter, Casimir patiently waits for an opportunity to counter before pivoting and catching the boy off balance—following up with an uppercut that knocks the boy out cold. The girl with the jade sword looks slightly amazed but not impressed.
Dawson finally gets back to his feet, "You little–I'll kill you!" Dawson holds out his arms forward, a ball of lava; the size of a human head forms in front of his hands. Just then, Mari comes back outside to see what's the commotion. "Dodge this. VOLCANIC BEAM!" he shouts, unleashing a giant beam of lava aimed directly at Casimir, who just stands unfazed, no fear or panic; just calmness. Before the devastating fiery beam could make contact, the girl with the jade sword jumps in front, blocking it with her sword, which starts to absorb the beam. Mari grabs Dawson's arms, halting anymore attacks and glares at him before handing him over to a guard. A few more guards arrive and escorts the troublemakers out of the academy.
Mari stepped forward with a steady gaze, her voice calm but full of praise as she approached Casimir and the girl. "Well done, Kanako," she said, a proud smile touching her lips. Her eyes flicked to Kanako's sword, noticing something strange. "But your sword is glowing now." Her voice carried a tone of both praise and cautious warning. She gestured toward the weapon, fingers pointing at the shimmering blade. The green glow was bright and steady, casting a faint light that flickered with each movement. Kanako paused for a moment, eyes lowered in a slight bow, showing respect for Mari's recognition. Then, with a confident stance, she swung her sword through the air. The blade moved fast, slicing the space around her as if cutting through the very air itself. When it reached its full swing, the sword emitted a powerful slash of jade light that blasted upward in a sharp, striking arc. The green energy shimmered like falling leaves caught in a breeze, fierce and unstoppable. It matched the force of the lava beam they had seen earlier—a blazing stream of molten rock so intense it seemed alive, capable of destroying anything in its path. The glow swirling around Kanako's sword slowly dissipated, a sign of her sword's unique ability. Her attack was not just a show of power, but a symbol of her mastery over her weapon and her newfound potential. The scene filled the air with tension, each of them aware that whatever Kanako had unlocked in her sword could be very useful in a fight, especially against a magic user.
Mari stared intently at her sword, running her fingers lightly over its polished surface. Her eyes flicked with a mix of admiration and curiosity. "I've always felt there was something very special about that sword," she said softly. "It's not an ordinary weapon, is it? Was it made just for you?"
Kanako nodded slowly, her eyes drifting to the sword as if recalling a long-forgotten memory. Her voice was gentle, carrying a hint of pride mixed with nostalgia. "My father made it for me when I was just five years old," she said quietly. "He handcrafted it himself, shaping every piece with care and skill." She paused briefly, her fingers brushing the hilt as if to hold onto the memory. "He believed I'd need it someday, that I'd have to learn how to defend myself." Her gaze softened. "That's when he first started teaching me how to fight, how to stand my ground." She looked back at Mari, a faint smile touching her lips. "It's more than just a weapon—it's a family bond, a symbol of everything my father wanted me to be."
As she spoke, the quiet significance of her words filled the space between them. The sword wasn't just a piece of metal; it was a legacy passed down through generations. It carried the weight of her father's hopes and dreams. Every scratch and nick on the blade told a story of battles fought and lessons learned, though there aren't many. For Kanako, the sword was a reminder of her roots and what she was fighting for. Mari listened closely, understanding now that this wasn't just about sharp steel, but about a childhood filled with lessons of strength, resilience, and love. The bond between a father and daughter was etched into every inch of that sword, making it uniquely hers, and it was clear she cherished it deeply.
Casimir finally broke his silence, voice deep with emotion. He looked down, eyes clouded with memories. "My mother made me a sword," he said softly. "It was more than just a weapon — it was a symbol of her love and care. She crafted it with her own magic, pouring her strength and hope into every inch. That sword meant everything to me, a reminder of her kindness." His voice trembled slightly as he added, "But everything was taken from me when I was in Bramola. The thieves stole not only my belongings but also that sword, along with many other things I held dear. It happened so quickly, I could barely do anything to stop it. The loss of my other weapons and tools, my personal treasures, and especially that sword left a deep wound in my heart. Bramola was supposed to be a safe place, a stop on my journey, but instead it turned into a place of more loss and more pain. I remember how I felt helpless as I watched them get away, clutching my possessions and mocking my despair."
Kanako's eyes softened at his words. She looked at him with a faint expression of sympathy, knowing how much that sword represented not just a weapon but a fragment of his past and his family. Her voice was gentle but firm. "I'm really sorry to hear about all that, Casimir. I wouldn't know what to do if I lost the sword my father gave me–I know It's not easy to lose something so personal and meaningful. If there's any way we can help, maybe we can try to recover what was stolen from you. I want to see you get it back if possible." Her words carried sincere concern, reflecting her understanding of how a loss like that could weigh heavily on someone.
Mari watched the exchange quietly, her face shadowed with thought. After a moment, she nodded with resolve in her eyes. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a familiar piece of paper. Carefully unfolding it, she revealed a detailed sketch — the bounty poster of a notorious bandit leader. Mari's voice was calm, but there was a clear edge of confidence. "I've already planned for this," she said, holding it out for Casimir to see. "This guy, this bandit leader, is the one who took your stuff. He's known for being quick and ruthless, but he's also greedy. He thrives on stealing from others and then selling those items for a good profit." Mari paused, then added, "This was the very first job I ever gave you — tracking down this kind of thief. Maybe this is your chance to get your belongings back, especially that sword. If we find him, there's a good chance we can recover what's yours."
She looked at Casimir with a steady gaze, her words packed with the hope that they could turn a difficult situation around. The bounty poster was not just a map to a thief but also a symbol of their plan and determination. The idea of tracking down the bandit leader gave new purpose to his efforts, making the pursuit more than just about reclaiming possessions — it was about restoring a piece of Casimir's past and dignity. The urgency was clear; time was of the essence if they wanted to bring back what was lost. Every step they took could lead to lost hope or a chance at redemption.