(Guild Training Yard — Dusk)
The Crescent Halo's training yard glowed gold in the fading light. Sigil-lamps hummed along the walls, casting long shadows over sand and steel.
William stood in the center, his white coat contrasting against the sunset. Calm. Focused. Unmoving.
His team formed a loose half-circle around him — Kai, Aria, Rin, and Hanami clutching her clipboard as if it might shield her from physics.
William's voice carried with steady clarity.
"The Trial by Mercy isn't just about power. It's about will. You'll face Seekers, Guild heirs, prodigies, killers — all watched by the nations themselves. To survive that, you need to understand this."
He raised three fingers.
"The Triad of Will — Sight. Steel. Sovereignty."
Aria crossed her arms. "That sounds poetic and exhausting."
William smiled faintly. "It is both. Now... someone hit me."
The four blinked.
Kai frowned. "Sir?"
"Before I finish this sentence."
Silence.
Then click.
Rin flicked her hand. Three ninja stars spun into the air, wrapped in Wind Muti — their edges slicing the air into shrieking silver lines.
They closed the gap in half a blink.
William didn't turn.
He tilted his head just an inch.
The stars whistled past his ear, slicing through the training sigils behind him before embedding in the far wall. The air trembled where they passed.
William's lips curled.
"Lovely one, Rin. A little too slow, though."
Rin froze. The others stared.
Aria blinked. "You didn't even look."
William turned, eyes faintly gold. "Kyōmei-shi. Resonance Sight. I don't see what you throw — I feel when you decide to throw it. Your intent echoes before your body moves."
Kai nodded slowly, impressed. "So... future sight."
William shook his head. "No. Present clarity."
"Next — Kōshin. Steel. Rin, again."
Rin drew the sword he'd taken from Kuzo back on the Aratrum — jagged, humming faintly with old violence.
He rushed forward, blade cutting through the air with perfect precision, all wind and silence.
William didn't reach for a weapon.
He simply raised his forearm.
CRACK.
The sword shattered clean down the middle. The sound snapped through the yard like thunder.
Golden shimmer faded from William's skin as if he'd been made of sunlight.
"That," he said quietly, "is Kōshin. The body made will. Steel is not armor — it's a decision. You decide what breaks."
Rin stared at the broken hilt, expression flat but eyes wide.
Hanami mumbled, scribbling. "Mental note: never spar within arm's reach."
Aria's smirk twitched. "Or within eyesight."
William exhaled. "And now, Ōi — Sovereignty."
The tone in his voice shifted. The temperature of the yard seemed to drop ten degrees.
He inhaled.
Light crawled up his shoulders.
Then — pressure.
The sigil-lines along the wall flared gold. Air warped around him.
It wasn't aura. It was authority.
Hanami gasped once — and crumpled. Her clipboard hit the sand.
Rin's knees buckled a heartbeat later, one hand hitting the ground hard enough to leave a print.
Kai's breath hitched; every nerve screamed to drop, to kneel.
Aria grit her teeth, lightning trembling across her arms, every muscle fighting the command pressing down on her bones.
From Kai's blurred vision, the world bled a yellow hue.
The sky burned like molten brass.
William stood alone at the center, wrapped in light. His eyes had gone white — completely. His expression unreadable, silhouette ringed in gold fire.
The sound wasn't sound anymore. It was a vibration.
Then — nothing.
He blinked. The light died. The air exhaled.
The silence was deafening.
Hanami lay unconscious.
Rin stayed on one knee, panting, a tremor in his hand.
Aria was down to one leg, chest heaving.
Kai was the last standing, barely.
William rubbed his temple. "Ah... sorry. I thought you could handle fifteen percent."
Kai coughed. "Fifteen percent?"
Aria snarled, "That felt like divine punishment!"
Rin managed, "You call that training?"
William smiled faintly. "Consider it awareness."
He crouched briefly, checking Hanami's pulse — steady. He flicked her forehead lightly and stood again. "She'll be fine. Most non-Seekers can't handle Ōi for more than two seconds. Don't tell her she drooled."
Kai let out a low laugh. "Noted."
William's tone returned to calm — instructor calm, back in control.
"Ōi is will-made gravity. The world bends to conviction. But it's not for domination — it's for leadership. You'll command chaos through presence alone, or chaos will command you."
He glanced over the team — bruised, stunned, still shaking.
"The Triad of Will isn't about strength. It's resonance discipline. Sight reads truth. Steel endures it. Sovereignty defines it."
He turned toward the exit, hand on the gate latch. The last light caught the gold embroidery on his coat.
"Tomorrow, we'll train again. Learn to stand through all three. After that —" his gaze slid to them, sharp but proud, "—you'll stop looking like students."
He paused. "Two days until the Trial by Mercy. Every nation will be watching. Every guild is betting. Every leader judging. This is where you prove why you wear that crest. Don't hold back. Don't kneel."
He left them in the dusk.
Aria groaned, slumping backward. "That man's pressure broke the sky."
Kai exhaled, half-laughing. "I think I saw the afterlife."
Rin, still kneeling, muttered, "Next time... make it twenty."
Hanami snored softly on the ground.
They all stared at her, silent for a beat—then burst out laughing.
Magnara's lights came on across the skyline, gold and white, humming like a living heartbeat.
And for the first time, the Halo Team understood what it meant to stand before true will.
(Morning — The Talking Boar Guildhouse)
Light spilled through the bar windows, cutting through the faint haze of last night's training dust.
The city outside was already awake — trams humming, steam vents sighing, markets clattering to life.
Inside, the smell of baked bread and spiced honey drifted from the kitchen.
Kai was the first downstairs. Hair tied back, gi loose, sandals quiet on the wood. He carried the calm that only comes after chaos — the post-storm peace of someone who'd nearly been crushed by Ōi and decided to laugh about it.
At the counter, a silver tray waited — today's breakfast special, stamped with the Crescent Halo crest.
A guild cook waved from behind the hatch. "Morning, monk! We've got pulmentus hot, teganites fresh, and a jug of mulsum."
Kai bowed slightly. "Thank you."
He sat at a small table by the window. Steam rose from the bowl — roasted spelt porridge, dark and nutty, topped with drizzled honey and shaved fig. Beside it: crisp bread, soft cheese, cured olives, and a thin slice of bull's leg meat still warm from the pan. The drink — mulsum, gold with spice — glowed in the light.
Kai took a bite, eyes closing. "Sweet, earthy, and complicated," he murmured. "Like Magnara."
The door creaked.
Aria stepped in, hair slightly damp from a quick wash, jacket thrown over her shoulder. Her energy always preceded her footsteps.
"Morning, flame monk," she said, dropping into the chair across from him. "You look disgustingly serene."
Kai smiled. "It's my aura."
She eyed his plate. "That's all yours?"
"Half. I ordered double in case Rin shows up hungry."
She grinned. "You."
Her own tray arrived — a pancake-like teganites slicked with honey and curdled milk, topped with diced dates. She tore into it without hesitation. "Okay, this city knows how to feed you before it kills you. That training yesterday was... wow."
Kai nodded. "William doesn't teach. He demonstrates mortality."
"Yeah," she said through a mouthful, "and we survived. Kinda proud of that."
The door opened again, quieter this time.
Rin walked in. Black coat. Damp hair from a morning rinse. No rush, no sound.
He didn't say anything — just nodded once at them and headed to the counter.
The cook blinked. "The usual?"
Rin's tone was flat. "Stronger coffee. Less talk."
Minutes later, he sat with his tray: bread dipped in wine, cold meat sliced thin, figs on the side. He ate methodically, precise as ever, each motion measured and deliberate.
Kai glanced over. "Morning, Rin."
"Morning," Rin replied.
Aria raised a brow. "Still sore from yesterday?"
He neatly sliced a fig. "No. Just thinking about how I'll break his arm next time."
Kai smiled. "Progress."
Rin looked up — a hint softer. "You handled it better than I expected."
Aria blinked, realizing that might've been praise. "Wow. You're really turning into a people person."
He deadpanned, "Don't get used to it."
Their laughter rolled through the empty bar — easy, genuine.
Hanami's voice drifted down the stairs, half-asleep. "If anyone eats before me again, I'm writing it in the mission report..."
Kai chuckled. "There's porridge left."
Hanami stumbled into view, hair wild, yawn wide. "Good. I'll need it if William tries to murder us again today."
Aria smirked. "Oh, he will. He called it 'training.' That's code for trauma."
Rin's tone was dry. "Then we should finish eating."
They did — quietly, steadily. The clink of spoons and the low hum of morning filled the guildhouse.
Outside, Magnara came fully awake. Market bells. Forge whistles. The smell of iron, spice, and sea salt in the air.
Kai leaned back, watching the city through the window — people crossing bridges, trains hissing, sunlight catching the steel veins that ran through every building.
"So this is Janoah," he said softly. "Loud, bright, alive."
Aria followed his gaze. "And ready to watch us bleed for glory."
Rin finished his coffee, setting the cup down with quiet finality. "Then let's make it worth watching."
(Guild Training Yard — Morning)
The air was sharp and clean after the night's rain. The Crescent Halo's yard gleamed — puddles reflecting the rising sun, the sigil-lines faintly steaming.
Kai was the first to stand, his gi tied, hair bound, Sun balanced on his shoulders. Aria rolled her sleeves, stretching until her joints cracked. Rin leaned against a post, quiet as smoke, his new black coat faintly damp at the cuffs.
The gate opened.
William stepped out, coat immaculate as always. His presence radiated warmth — less fire, more command.
"Morning," he said, his voice steady. "You all look better than yesterday. Mostly."
Aria smirked. "Still alive, Captain. That counts, right?"
William smiled faintly. "Barely."
"Lila won't be joining you today," he said, walking toward the center. "She's training under her mother, Laila Butters — the former 'Water Demon,' now head of Royal Aqua. You'll meet Lila tomorrow at Trials."
Kai exhaled. "Makes sense. She'll come back stronger."
William nodded. "Exactly. Today is about refinement. Sight. The first step of the Triad."
He turned to face them fully. His tone changed — softer, but weighted.
"You've seen what Kyōmei-shi can do. You saw me use it. But it's not about reaction speed — it's about intent awareness. You don't dodge attacks. You read truth."
He stepped closer, stopping between them. "Intent leaves residue in aura. When someone intends harm, the air shifts before their hand moves. When someone lies, their rhythm falters. To train Sight, you learn to listen with your spirit, not your ears."
Aria's brow furrowed. "So... meditation with a death threat?"
William grinned. "Something like that. But you'll need a partner."
He motioned to Kai. "You first. Close your eyes."
Kai obeyed, steady.
"Now, Aria — walk around him. Don't strike. Just think about it. Kill intent, faint or strong, your choice."
Aria raised an eyebrow but moved — soft steps circling Kai.
At first, nothing. The morning wind hummed through the railings.
Then Kai's fingers twitched. His head tilted slightly toward her right side — just before she'd even shifted her weight to move.
William's voice broke the silence. "Good. You felt that."
Kai opened one eye. "Like the air leaned with her thoughts."
"Exactly."
Rin crossed his arms. "He's spiritually sensitive. The monk cheated."
William looked at him. "Then prove it's not luck. Your turn."
Rin sighed. "Fine."
He stepped forward. "Same thing?"
"Same thing."
Aria inhaled, and the air charged — the faintest tickle of lightning through the yard. She didn't move, but her aura pulsed in sharp intervals — flashes of imagined violence.
Rin's eyes narrowed. The world slowed. His pupils shifted — Viatra faintly shimmering. He moved half a step back before she'd even raised her hand.
William smiled. "Now that's refinement. Your eyes already taste resonance. The challenge is turning perception into discipline, not panic."
Aria exhaled, lowering her stance. "Feels like reading a storm before thunder."
"Exactly," William said. "Sight isn't power. It's truth awareness. The closer you are to stillness, the clearer it becomes."
He turned to all three. "Now — again. No aura, no flashy moves. Just intent. Read each other. Feel the air lie."
They spread out across the yard.
Kai shut his eyes again, breathing steadily. Aria loosened her fingers, letting faint static roll over her skin. Rin stood motionless, eyes half-lidded, Viatra flickering in small bursts.
Minutes passed — a slow rhythm of footsteps, heartbeat, and silence.
Each time someone thought to strike, another would twitch first.
A dance of anticipation, half-prediction, half-truth.
Finally, William called, "Enough."
They stopped, breathing slowly.
For a moment, utter silence — just the wind through the sigil-lamps and the faint hum of aura cooling.
William nodded. "That's the start. Sight isn't taught. It's caught — through repetition, in silence, in stillness."
He walked past them, stopping at the gate. "Tomorrow is the Trial. You'll see hundreds of techniques, hundreds of truths. Some pure, some poisonous. What you learned here will tell you who's worth fearing."
Aria asked, "And the rest?"
William smiled over his shoulder. "The rest you'll have to outfight."
Kai grinned. "Sounds like mercy isn't part of the trial."
"Mercy," William said, "I think they're all out of it."
He paused, sunlight washing over his shoulders. "Eat well. Rest early. Tomorrow, the world meets the Halo Team."
As he left, the three stood in silence — not tired, not anxious, just charged.
Aria stretched, hands behind her head. "Tomorrow, huh?"
Rin's voice was quiet. "Tomorrow."
Kai looked toward the rising sun, the city's reflection glowing across the towers. "Then let's make it worth the story."
The sound of Magnara carried through the walls — gears, bells, trains, people shouting through markets. The world was alive, waiting.