The next day.
5 a.m. in the morning:
"W-w-w-why a-are we o-out here…?"
Noen's voice trembled even more than his hands.
He stood in slippers in the snow in front of the entrance to the Black Synod headquarters, his arms wrapped tightly around his own body. His breathing came in short bursts, small white clouds exploding in front of his face. The cold bit mercilessly — raw, direct, without warning.
He was wearing only his sacred clothing and a pitiful pair of pajama pants that had been given to him the night before. Thin fabric. Absolutely unsuitable. Completely hopeless.
His teeth chattered audibly.
Thornec stood in front of him.
Warmly dressed. Sturdy boots. Thick winter jacket. Gloves. And… a cup of steaming coffee in his hand.
"Of course we're training outside!" Thornec called out cheerfully. "That's not even a question! Mehahaha!"
Noen stared at him as if he had just decided to kill him.
"W-w-w… w-what a-are you t-t-talking a-about…?" Noen managed to say.
Thornec took a satisfied sip of his coffee, sighed contentedly, and wiped his beard.
"We need to toughen you up, little man!" he explained happily. "And we're starting nice and simple: survive two hours outside in the cold!"
Noen's eyes widened.
"T-t-two… T-TWO HOURS?!"
Thornec nodded, pleased.
"Exactly."
Noen looked around in panic.
The area in front of the headquarters lay open and icy, completely exposed to the wind. Snow had gathered in hard, crunching layers. The watchtowers were manned, the guards wrapped in thick coats, safe, warm — and now watching curiously from above.
Thornec followed Noen's gaze and looked up.
Brynja leaned against one of the balconies, arms crossed, an amused smile on her lips. Saevin stood beside her and briefly raised two fingers in greeting. While laughing ofc.
Noen felt… exposed.
By now he was freezing so badly that his body had begun to shake painfully.
Thornec took one last sip of coffee and then turned toward the entrance.
"Oh, and one more thing," he said casually. "Don't move, don't go inside, and don't pass out."
He walked past the security guards without sparing them a glance.
"We'll see you in two hours! Mehahaha!"
BAM.
The heavy door slammed shut.
The bolt slid into place.
Silence.
Only wind. Snow. Cold.
Noen stared at the door.
— You damn bastard… —
He cursed Thornec in his head in every way imaginable. Insults. Threats. Fantasies in which Thornec slipped, spilled his coffee, or got eaten.
But then—
Something else.
A thought.
Quiet. Gentle. Familiar....
–Yes, you were...–
Noen blinked.
–Come on, admit it…–with this gentle smile…
His breath caught for a moment.
–I love you, Noen…–
Lyra.
The memory hit him hard. But his mind… drifted.
–We are gonna do this!...––Sacred History? Pff… no problem for us!..–
A bitter smile crossed his face.
–Oh man… we both failed…–Thel…
Noen's chest tightened.
He raised his hand — and slapped himself hard twice across the face.
Smack. Smack.
"Pull yourself together," he muttered hoarsely.
Another slap.
"I…"His breathing came in jerks. "I have to do this."
Another.
"For Lyra."
Another.
"And for Thel."
He slowly straightened up.
The shaking didn't stop — but it no longer controlled him.
Noen clenched his fists.
"I HAVE TO DO THIS!"
He sucked in air.
And screamed.
"I HAAAAVE TO DOOOO THISSSS!!!!"
His voice echoed across the square.
The guards in front of the entrance looked at each other, irritated. Heads leaned over the railings in the towers.
Noen didn't care.
And look and behold:
He had actually made it.
At some point the heavy entrance door of the headquarters opened again, and warm air hit him. Noen stumbled inside, his body feeling strangely empty — as if the cold had drained everything out of him.
He barely felt anything anymore.
No pain. No warmth. Nothing.
He didn't actually go inside on his own.
Thornec simply dragged him in.
Without much effort, he grabbed him and brought him over to a fire that was already burning. Noen was set down in front of it, more falling than sitting.
Slowly, feeling returned.
First a burning sensation in his fingers. Then in his feet. Then deep in his bones.
When he was more or less himself again, Thornec spoke:
"That'll be your warm-up every day."
Noen blinked heavily.
"W-warm-up?"
"Of course!"
Thornec glanced at the clock.
"It's only half past seven. Training hasn't even really started yet."
Noen heard that.
And collapsed.
A few days later, they were standing outside again.
The square in front of the headquarters was still covered in a thick layer of snow and ice, the sky was gray, the cold still biting relentlessly — but this time, it was different.
Noen was prepared.
He had slipped away beforehand and grabbed a thick jacket and a matching pair of pants. Not comfortable, not perfect — but at least no longer a death trap. His breathing was calm, visible, more controlled than just a few hours earlier.
Thornec stood opposite him.
As relaxed as ever.
As always far too cheerful.
"So," he said, crossing his arms, "next… I want to show you something."
Noen raised an eyebrow.
"Hit me."
A brief pause.
"As hard as you can."
Noen blinked.
"W-why should I do th—"
"Just do it."
No explanation.
No grin this time.
Just that firm tone.
Noen hesitated.
"O-okay…"
He took a step back.
Then another.
He started running — slow at first, then faster, then really fast. His steps dug into the snow, ice crunching beneath his feet. He jumped, raised his fist, focused on Thornec's face—
Only a few millimeters left.
Then—
Thornec was pushed back.
Not violently.
Not brutally.
More like someone had lightly bumped into him.
He landed gently on the icy ground a few feet back, stable, calm.
Noen, on the other hand—
completely lost his balance.
He slammed forward, slipped, and landed face-first in the snow.
Dull.
Cold.
Still.
"You can't hit me at all," Thornec said calmly.
Noen moved.
Wriggled.
Tried to pull his head out of the snow.
"Hff— mmpf— wha—"
"Lum," Thornec said.
Noen heard it, muffled by snow.
"Rhuven probably already told you about it."
"Mehh... he never really explained it in full."
Noen finally got his head free and gasped for air.
"No matter how, where, or when you try," Thornec continued, "you'll never be able to hurt me."
Noen sat up, snow on his face, in his hair, completely confused.
Then—
Thornec moved.
He jumped.
Fast.
Explosive.
And while he was in the air, he said:
"The same applies to self-defense."
Noen looked up at him.
And this time… he wasn't scared.
— Lum protects me. —
The thought was clear.
Almost comforting.
But—
The punch hit him.
Fully.
No resistance.
No barrier.
Noen flew back a few feet, hit the ground, rolled several more — and finally lay still.
Silence.
Thornec stood there.
Looked at his fist.
"Huh?"
He frowned.
Then—
"Oh riiiiight."
A wide grin spread across his face.
"You can't consciously use your Lum yet! Mehahaha!"
Noen groaned, slowly turned onto his side, struggled back up.
His face hurt.
His body burned.
Thornec brushed off his hands.
"Sorry! My fault! Mehahaha!" he called cheerfully.
Noen slowly straightened up.
Blood ran from his nose, dripping darkly into the snow as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. His steps were heavy, but determined, as he walked toward Thornec.
"What the hell was that?!" Noen snapped, his voice strained but no longer panicked.
"So I can't defend myself at all or what?!"
Thornec stopped laughing.
Not abruptly.
Not harshly.
He simply looked at Noen.
"No," he said calmly.
"That's not how it is."
Noen stopped.
Thornec took a step closer.
"You think you're powerless," he continued.
"But you're anything — except that."
Noen's brow furrowed.
Thornec's voice lowered slightly, becoming firmer.
"You are… unbelievably strong."
A brief pause.
"If you want to be."
Noen's breathing slowly calmed.
Thornec turned his gaze away, looking down at the city of Roseshire far below them in the frost.
"Because if your opponent doesn't have a pure soul…"
He fell silent.
Not by accident.
But because he wanted the words to sink in.
The wind swept across the square.
Snow crunched softly.
Then Thornec looked back at Noen.
"…then you can — with the right technique, of course — shoot them all the way down into the city. With a single blow."
Noen's eyes widened.
"And since every evil bearers soul is corrupted...
"Whoa…"
Thornec grinned.
"And once you've got Lum under control," he continued,
"people who attack you will… either be pushed back slightly."
He raised a hand.
"Or completely yeeted away."
He shrugged.
"Depends."
Noen stared at him. "Wow..."
Thornec nodded once.
"That means: You can become.. basically as strong as you want."
Noen's mouth hung open.
"Cool…" he murmured.
Then he lifted his head, a grin spreading across his face.
"Then Beldrin should be a piece of cake."
He made a small fist motion.
"I just go pow once and he—"
"Maybe."
Thornec interrupted calmly.
"We'll see."
The grin on Noen's face held for a moment — then faltered.
Thornec crossed his arms.
"But that doesn't come by itself."
Noen froze.
"So…"
Noen sighed softly.
"Oh no…"
Thornec grinned again.
Wide.
Dangerously cheerful.
"Five hundred push-ups."
He clapped his hands loudly once.
"AND GO!"
Noen's eyes widened.
"WHYYYY?!"