He called my name.
"Ren," he said, soft as breath.
The veil around me collapsed as I came—out from the shadow beside him, like I always did. No hesitation. No second thought.
I'm his shadow, after all. His… something.
I stepped into the fading light, silence wrapping me like always. But he looked at me longer than usual. Not searching for wounds. Not checking my strength.
Just… looking.
Like I was different now.
And maybe I was.
Not stronger in skill. Not faster. Not reborn.
But something had shifted. Something I couldn't name.
He smiled at me. That soft kind of smile—the kind that always made me want to stand a little straighter.
"Ren," he asked, tilting his head a little, "is there… anything weird about me?"
I blinked.
Then it hit me.
I couldn't hold it back. I laughed. Really laughed. It burst out of me like a wave that had been waiting to crash.
"Master," I said between the laughter, "you are the very definition of weirdness."
The look he gave me… priceless. Offended. Childish. Almost pouty.
I hadn't seen him like that in so long.
"You didn't have to say it that seriously," he muttered.
"But it's true," I said, still smiling.
We fell into a quiet moment after that. The kind of quiet that didn't feel empty.
The wind stirred. Cold, but not cruel. It brushed through his hair, tugged at my cloak.
Then he whispered again.
"Ren… thank you."
My heart stilled.
I turned to him slowly. His gaze was on the horizon—distant, unreadable.
But I heard him. I heard the weight behind those words.
I stepped forward, dropped to one knee beside him. Not as his shadow. Not as a servant. Not even as a creation.
Just… as myself.
"I should be the one thanking you."
His eyes flickered toward me, unsure.
"You gave me a chance to live," I continued. My voice didn't shake—but inside, I did. "Not survive. Not function. Live. A real life. One I chose."
My fingers curled into the grass beneath us.
"Thanks for letting me stay. For not erasing me… for not fearing me. Because no matter what changes in me, or in you…"
I looked up at him.
"You'll always be my master."
He didn't say anything.
And he didn't have to.
He just looked back at the sea.
The waves crashed, again and again, tireless and patient. The sky darkened, clouds gathering like quiet thoughts.
For the first time since I was born… since I woke up in that lonely silence...
I felt like I belonged.
Even if the world broke again—even if darkness swallowed everything—
I'd still have this.
I'd still have him.
Even in silence.
That made me wanna grow stronger to remain by his side even though i didn't deserve it.
---
The wind pressed against my face as I faced him. No link. No shared senses. Just the person who had given me a purpose… and the blade I would use to prove I could stand beside him.
He moved first—sharp and decisive. His sword swung left. I caught it and let instinct take over, parrying, answering with my own flurry.
Every strike, I pushed harder. Faster. My arms ached, but I didn't slow down. I couldn't.
For a moment, his movements shifted—lighter, quicker. His steps carried a strange rhythm, like the weight in his body had vanished. Then, with a single blow, he knocked me back several meters.
I gritted my teeth, planting my feet. That was no ordinary swing.
I adjusted my stance, tightening it, cutting out every wasted motion. My sword moved again, this time with my full weight behind it. The edge of my blade bit through the air like it wanted to end something.
His power was still ahead of mine… but the gap was thinner now. I could feel it.
My sword flickered as I drove forward. Faster. My vision narrowed on him.
The point aimed for his chest. I knew he'd dodge. I was ready for it.
But he didn't just dodge—he flipped over me, using the tree as if the air itself would hold him up, coming down with a cut that hummed in my bones.
Our blades almost met—
And then it came. That laugh.
That voice.
It froze him, and in that heartbeat, my opening vanished.
"Night, what do you think you're doing without me?"
I snapped my head toward the sound. Sylvia.
A jolt went through me. "…Master!!!"
Before I could move, she was already behind him, and Night's head dipped forward in pain.
I straightened my blade but didn't step in. Even I knew better than to interfere with her.
She perched on his back like it was her rightful throne, not a single bead of sweat on her. I followed Night's gaze to the pile of shattered wooden swords nearby. All his.
It made me smirk. Not out of mockery—just the reminder that even he could be overwhelmed.
As they spoke, I stayed quiet. But I watched. Sylvia's tone, her smile, the way Night's eyes searched her face—there was history there I wasn't part of.
Not yet.
One day, I'd bridge that gap. Not just with him, but with everyone who stood at his side.
But first, I'd make sure the next time we faced each other alone… he wouldn't be the only one holding back secrets.
---
Sylvia stood up and dusted herself off with an exaggerated yawn, like this had been nothing but a warm-up.
"You're improving," she said.
I blinked. "…Was that a compliment?"
Her smirk said otherwise. "You lasted longer than yesterday. That's progress, isn't it?"
I groaned, letting my head fall back onto the grass. My entire body ached, but in a strange way, it felt good. Like I was finally moving forward—even if it was just barely.
I managed a weak grin. "Don't act so shocked. I told you I'd catch up."
SHe raised an eyebrow. "You call this catching up?"
Sylvia cut in, voice sharp. "If he hadn't hesitated before flipping over you, that last move would've won the duel."
I stiffened.
She noticed.
"Oh, so you did hesitate," she muttered, folding her arms.
"I—" My voice cracked slightly. "It was just for a moment. When I felt that… laugh."
Sylvia's expression darkened. "You're still bound by fear."
I sat up slowly, forcing myself not to look away.
"I know."
Ren leaned against a tree, watching me in silence.
Sylvia's voice dropped. "You can't carry fear into the next phase. Not if you want to survive what's coming."
I swallowed hard.
"What is coming?" I asked, quieter than I meant to.
She didn't answer right away. Just stared at the horizon like it held the answer.
Then, after a long silence—
"Something worse than sorrow," she said.
My breath caught.
Night looked at her.
Sylvia nodded once.
"Three weeks," she said. "That's all the time you have to become stronger than you've ever been. Because once it begins, you either pass… or its over."
I stared down at my hands. Bruised, bloodied , shaking slightly!
"Then I'll train harder," I said. "I'll keep going. Even if I have to crawl."
Sylvia met my eyes.
She didn't smile.
But she nodded.
And that was enough.