What felt like an hour stretched between them, thick with the silence of spent power. Kibo and Sora, still locked in Syl's spectral vines, stared at one another. Blood ran in thin lines across Kibo's arms, dripping into the ice. Frost clung to the strands of Sora's hair, steam rising off her skin.
Their eyes didn't move.
Then, slowly, it happened.
A low chuckle escaped Kibo's lips. Hoarse. Blood-streaked. Unhinged.
Sora joined him.
Not with joy, not with triumph… but with a cold, ragged laughter that echoed off the frost-rimed trees like madness given voice. Lily flinched. Syl shrank back. Something in that sound didn't feel human.
"What is this feeling…? "Lily thought, her small hands trembling. "Why do Kibo have to go so far?"
Bram stood still. His shoulders were tense, breath slow, but his eyes were heavy with something else entirely. Resignation. Grief. Memory.
"Subaru… you really are turning your whole family into monsters."
Kibo's laugh broke first. His chest shuddered with pain, the sound dying into a rough exhale. He let go of the jagged ice shard in his hand. It clattered to the frozen ground.
In Sora's hands, her ice weapons dissolved. Water dripped silently from her fingertips. Her mouth was curved in a faint smile, too tired to be cruel, too cold to be kind.
"You really have impressed me," she said softly. "You've passed."
Kibo leaned forward, breath ragged, grinning through the pain like it gave him pride. "Thanks, Aunt Sora," he rasped. "But is this what you call a pass? I didn't win."
Sora's eyes narrowed slightly. "Winning?" She gave a faint shrug. "Fine. You won. I give up."
"Ah… brat," Ignis's voice coiled through Kibo's skull like smoke, amused and scathing all at once. "Congratulations. The sadistic aunt conceded. How noble. Except it isn't a real win. It's just you… surviving long enough for her to lose interest. Pathetic. But still… you made her acknowledge you. That counts for something, doesn't it?"
Kibo sighed, a chuckle laced with exhaustion bubbling from his chest. "This is new for me, Ignis… are you actually giving me praise?"
"Don't flatter yourself, worm," Ignis snapped. "You're a limp twig trying to be a sword. She was adapting mid-fight, adjusting to your Manatrack Vision like it was a beginner's puzzle. You got in a few scratches, yes…but she cracked your ribs without blinking. If she wanted to kill you, you would be gone before you blinked."
"Still… you forced her to change her tempo. That's the seed of danger. Don't waste it."
Kibo looked back to Sora, eyes softening just a little. "Aunt Sora… I'd love to spar again sometime. You taught me a lot."
Syl, seeing that the immediate, lethal tension had diffused, let out a shaky breath. The spectral vines holding Kibo and Sora shimmered, then slowly receded into the ground, leaving no trace.
Sora's smile faded.
"No," she said quietly. "I won't spar with you again."
Kibo blinked, confused. "Why? Did I go too far?"
Sora didn't answer at first. Her gaze lingered on him—watchful, distant. Cold.
"Not fit?" she thought. "Kibo… if we spar again, I won't hold back. I'll want to kill you. Because you'll stop being my family, and start being something else. Something… untamed. You are evolving into something dangerous. And I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself."
Aloud, she said only, "No. Nothing like that."
Bram let out a long, aching breath. He stepped closer, finally breaking the stillness with a grumble. "Have you two finally bled enough? Gotten this madness out of your systems?"
Kibo laughed, a short bark of irony. "Sorry, Uncle. I guess I went a bit overboard."
"You guess?" Bram cuffed him hard on the back of the head, not gently. "It's a spar, you lunatic, not a declaration of war! You want to fight like that? Join a battlefield!"
Kibo flinched, rubbing the back of his head with a wince. "Ow…"
Then Bram turned, slowly, to Sora.
"And you," he said, voice low. "You nearly killed him. That's not training. That's bloodlust. You're supposed to raise the next generation, not destroy it."
Sora gave a soft, tired sigh. "Whatever you say, Uncle."
Her voice was distant, dismissive, but the fire behind her eyes had gone out.
Lily took a slow, careful step forward, clutching her arms. "Thank goodness…" she whispered. "Everything's… back to normal."
Syl nodded beside her, more solemn. "Kibo and Aunt Sora are way beyond anything I can do."
"No," Lily said, her voice trembling, her eyes not leaving the shattered training field. "You're strong, Syl. Stronger than me."
Syl turned, startled. "What are you talking about?"
Lily's fingers curled into her sleeves. "I don't even know if I have a gift. A real one. I know how to fight, but… something like that? That fight?" She looked down. "I'd be dead in seconds."
Syl saw it before Lily even said a word—the quiet ache in her eyes. Without hesitation, she reached out and gently took Lily's hand.
"Don't say that, Lily," Syl said, her voice soft but firm, the kind that left no room for doubt. "You're strong. And you're an amazing person. I'm proud to have you as a sister. I know you're capable of something incredible. You just haven't seen it yet… but I have."
Lily blinked, her expression faltering. A flicker of warmth touched her cheeks. "Thank you, Syl. That... really helped me."
Syl gave her hand a small squeeze. "Good. Because I won't let you forget it. You're not allowed to call yourself useless. Ever."
"I won't," Lily whispered, smiling now. It wasn't wide, but it was real. "I promise."
"And if Kibo or Aunt Sora aren't around," Syl added, her gaze tightening with a quiet, fiery resolve, "I'll protect you. No matter what. I swear it."
Lily's eyes widened slightly. Her fingers closed tighter around Syl's hand. "Then I'll protect you too… even if I have to figure out how."
From a short distance away, Kibo had been listening. His footsteps were soft in the frost as he approached.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Guys, for not listening to you both."
Lily puffed out her cheeks, her expression torn between childish frustration and honest worry. "You're a meanie! Why don't you ever listen to us?"
Syl crossed her arms, frowning up at him. "Seriously, Kibo. You almost got yourself killed. Or worse... you could've killed Aunt Sora."
Kibo let out a dry, scraping laugh, still clutching his side. "I don't think I would've killed her."
"You would have!" Lily snapped, surprising even herself. Her voice shook slightly. "And that's why you have to stop being reckless. I get it, in a real fight, you'd have to go for the kill… but that wasn't a real fight. You made it one."
Syl nodded. "Exactly. You're treating spars like they're battles. But if that had been real, Kibo... you would've died before it even started."
"You see, brat?" Ignis's voice echoed through Kibo's skull like grinding stone, half sneer, half lecture. "Even your lover and that girl know you're an idiot. And they're right. You fight like a stupid beast with a shiny dagger. You've got a new brilliant tool…your Manatrack Vision…and you treat it like it's some magical cheat when it's nothing without understanding timing, intent, or flow. Your sadistic aunt cracked it like a toy puzzle."
"You're still a clumsy brute. A predictable pattern waiting to be broken."
"I know," Kibo replied inwardly, jaw tightening. "But it wasn't that bad, was it?"
"Not that bad?" Ignis scoffed, a sharp, guttural rasp echoing in Kibo's skull. "You forced raw mana through your body to melt the ice, and that was clever…but you treated it like a hammer, not a scalpel. You rushed in, trusting your self-healing instead of sharpening your movement. You used your Manatrack Vision, yes... but barely. You let it see for you, but you didn't let it move you. Your body lagged behind the insight. You bled because you were careless, and worse, because you thought endurance was enough."
He paused, his voice dropping into a colder, slower tone.
"Mana isn't firewood. You don't just burn it and hope to survive the night. It's a currency. Every motion costs something. Every decision drains it. You wasted energy tanking damage when you should have been using your vision to stay three steps ahead."
Kibo sighed, this time aloud. "You know what... you're right," he admitted. "I was reckless. I am reckless. But I promise you both... I'll get better at not getting hurt."
Syl gave a small huff, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. "I know I can't change you. You're too stubborn. So instead, I'll just grow strong enough to protect you when you mess up."
Kibo opened his mouth to speak
But Lily cut in before he could.
"Syl's right," she said gently. "We can't change you, Kibo. But we can grow with you. And that's what matters. We'll get stronger together… so that you won't have to fight alone."
There was silence for a heartbeat. Then Kibo smiled. A real one. Quiet, warm, grateful.
Meanwhile, Bram was still speaking to Sora, his voice low. "I know how you fight, Sora. I've seen it for years. But today... that wasn't the same style you used when Subaru trained you."
Sora's gaze drifted away, her eyes unfocused, haunted by something she wouldn't name. "No," she murmured. "It wasn't."
Bram studied her in silence, then said, "You felt it, didn't you? The shift. That moment... when you stopped thinking like a mentor and started thinking like a predator."
"I did," Sora whispered, barely audible.
Bram exhaled, jaw tightening. "Then that means someone else felt it too. Thorn was right. Someone is going to be watching. And whoever it was... they'll report back to the Countess. Not just about the fight, but about you."
"Yes," Sora sighed, the edge of weariness barely slipping into her voice. "That means I'll have to start leaving the house more often."
Bram gave her a sidelong glance, his tone softening. "I know it's not easy on you. Especially after how close you've gotten to the children."
Sora's gaze drifted toward them. Lily and Syl were smiling, talking quietly with Kibo. There was a flicker in her expression, something between fondness and detachment.
"I doubt that," she said flatly. "Staying around them has been... exhausting."
"Why do you always say things like that?" Bram asked with a touch of exasperation, but his eyes searched hers carefully.
"You wouldn't understand, Uncle," she muttered, voice cool and distant.
"Oh, I wouldn't?" Bram gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "You forget who raised you, Sora?"
"I can't forget," she said, eyes sharp. "You and that old hag made sure I never could."
Bram barked a short laugh. "You don't have to phrase it like that. Let's call it the past."
"Already did," Sora replied coldly.
There was silence, the air thick with unsaid things.
"So, as for your glasses..." Bram gestured to the two broken halves on the ground. "Will you want me to get a new one for you?"
"No," Sora said. "I have a spare."
"Good," Bram said, a small nod.
"That reminds me..." Sora's gaze sharpened. "Were you able to do what Uncle Thorn asked of you?"
Bram straightened, his voice dropping low. "I did it. Took longer than I wanted, but Thorn sent the right people. Skilled. Quiet. We pulled it off."
"And now you wait?" Sora asked.
"No," Bram said. "Now we watch. The inevitable's coming."
Sora was silent for a moment, then spoke, her voice low but edged. "Do you think what Uncle Thorn is doing is right?"
Bram met her gaze, calm but firm. "It's not right in the eyes of others."
"Uncle," she pressed, sharper now. "I didn't ask what others thought. I asked you."
He smiled, faint and bitter. "Exactly. And that's why I answered like that."
Sora let out a frustrated sigh. "You never change."
"And you," Bram said, smirking, "have gotten more complicated."
He turned to the children and called out, his voice warming. "Alright, you three…Ben included…let's get some rest. Maybe even do something fun for once."
Kibo raised a hand. "I like the sound of that."
"I'm starving!" Lily beamed, the brightness in her voice a fragile mask over deeper thoughts.
"A good rest sounds perfect," Syl added, draping an arm around Lily protectively. Her own smile held a tired but growing strength.
As the group began walking, their breath misting in the cold air, the battle-worn clearing behind them started to thaw. Drops of melted ice pattered softly on the stone and soil, like the forest itself was breathing again.
But Sora remained.
She stood still, gaze drifting across the frost-slick battlefield. Her fingers tightened around her own arms. Her eyes narrowed, not at the children, not at Bram, but at the faint traces of mana still lingering where Kibo had stood. Her breath slowed.
"It's not over."
Meanwhile, far from them, deeper toward the edge of the kingdom's misty outskirts, a figure ran.
Angelo.
Frost still clung to his uniform, residue from what he'd just witnessed. His steps were uneven, his breath ragged. Sweat streaked his neck despite the sun breaking through the trees.
His thoughts raced faster than his legs.
Who really is that woman.
Is she truly a maid.
He stared ahead, the Kingdom's walls distant but growing.
Countess... he thought, pulse hammering.
"That maid of a woman... is dangerous."
And he kept running.