The gates stood scorched and half-repaired, wood blackened and stone cracked where the Shadowspawn had clawed their way inside. Workers hammered in the early dawn, their tools clanging like dull bells, trying to patch what had nearly been destroyed.
Kaito watched from the training grounds. The morning was cool, but his body still carried a phantom warmth, as if the flames from the battle had burned themselves into his veins. Every time his grip tightened around the spear, the blue-wrapped shaft hummed faintly. The twin tips glowed like cinders refusing to die.
Behind him, the Circle filed into the yard. Bandages still marked their arms, ribs, and legs. They moved slower than before, but their eyes burned sharper. Injuries had not broken them—they had hardened.
"Training already?" Ryo groaned, adjusting the brace on his arm.
"You'd better keep up," Mira snapped back. She glanced at Kaito's weapon and grimaced. "Especially with him."
Aria said nothing. She stood apart, her cloak drawn tight, her gaze fixed—not on the spear, but on Kaito himself. Her silence weighed heavier than any insult.
The Headmaster emerged from the tower steps, his presence quiet but commanding. "Yesterday ended with survival. Today begins with discipline. You will face greater enemies, and if you stumble again, you may not rise."
His gaze lingered on Kaito last. "Especially you."
The Circle exchanged uneasy looks. Kaito only nodded.
The Headmaster raised his staff. The training dummies across the yard stirred to life, wood groaning as they twisted into combat stance. "Then begin."
The Circle rushed forward. Steel clashed, spells cracked through the morning air. Dust rose, sweat followed. Kaito moved with them, spear cutting arcs through the air. Each strike landed with precision, each thrust shattering wood and splinters.
But with every motion, heat pressed at the edge of his skin, threatening, burning. Once—just once—the tips of the spear flared brighter than they should, and the jolt ran all the way up his arm.
He stopped it before the others could see. But Aria's eyes were on him again. Always. Watching. Waiting.
As the sun rose higher and the sounds of battle echoed across the yard, Kaito knew the truth: the blue fire wasn't fading. It was growing.
And sooner or later, he would have to decide whether to keep it caged—or let it burn the world again.