They didn't stand up right away.
Ash lay on his back, chest rising and falling in uneven pulls, the taste of iron still lingering at the back of his throat. Kael sat on one knee, one hand pressed into the stone as if grounding himself to the world. Riven laughed softly—too softly—while Juno stared at his trembling fingers, watching them slowly obey him again.
The valley was silent.
Too silent.
Lunaria waited.
He didn't rush them. He didn't offer comfort. He simply stood there, silver hair swaying gently, killing intent completely withdrawn—yet the memory of it still crushed their lungs like phantom weight.
"When you release killing intent," Lunaria said at last, voice calm, "you leave a shadow behind."
Ash swallowed and pushed himself upright. "It still feels like it's on me."
"That's because your body remembers dying," Lunaria replied without cruelty. "Your mind hasn't caught up yet."
Riven snorted weakly. "I don't like that phrasing."
"You don't have to," Lunaria said. "But you do have to adapt."
He stepped closer.
"Today's lesson is not about power," Lunaria continued. "It's about shape."
Juno looked up. "Shape?"
"Killing intent without shape is pressure," Lunaria said. "Pressure crushes indiscriminately. It exhausts you. It terrifies allies as much as enemies."
Kael frowned. "So what's the alternative?"
Lunaria raised his hand—and pointed at Ash.
"Release yours again," he said. "But this time… aim it."
Ash stiffened. "At you?"
"No," Lunaria replied. "At the stone behind me."
Ash hesitated—then nodded.
He inhaled slowly, focusing not on violence, but on decision. He pictured a line. A boundary. Something that should not exist beyond a certain point.
His killing intent leaked out again—but this time, it narrowed.
The air trembled.
The stone behind Lunaria cracked—then split cleanly down the center, collapsing inward like it had been sliced by an invisible blade.
Ash's eyes widened. "I—did that?"
"Yes," Lunaria said. "And notice—none of us felt crushed."
Riven pushed himself upright, eyes sharp. "So you're saying killing intent can be precise."
"Everything can be precise," Lunaria replied. "If you stop mistaking force for control."
He turned to Kael next.
"Compress yours," Lunaria said. "As small as you can."
Kael clenched his fists, brow furrowing. His killing intent surfaced—heavy, overwhelming—but then he fought it, pulling it inward, folding it into himself again and again.
The ground beneath his feet didn't crack this time.
Instead, the air around him hummed.
Lunaria nodded. "Good. That's intimidation without leakage."
Riven went next—grinning like he was about to cause trouble.
"I'll try something fun," he said.
He released his killing intent in pulses—on, off, on, off—like flickering lightning. The effect was unsettling. Ash felt his instincts misfire, unable to decide whether to react or relax.
Juno shuddered. "That's disturbing."
"Exactly," Lunaria said. "Unpredictability is a weapon."
Juno's turn came last.
He closed his eyes, breathing slowly. His killing intent didn't spread outward at all—instead, it sank downward, pressing into the ground, seeping through stone and soil like a warning whispered to the earth itself.
Several meters away, small stones began to vibrate.
Lunaria watched closely.
"…Interesting," he murmured. "You anchor your intent."
Juno opened his eyes. "It keeps me steady."
"It will also keep others away," Lunaria replied. "Without them knowing why."
The lesson continued for hours.
Release.
Refine.
Withdraw.
Again and again.
They learned to sharpen intent into blades, condense it into armor, veil it like mist. They learned how to let it exist without letting it dominate them.
By the time the sun dipped low, exhaustion weighed on them heavier than any gravity skill.
Lunaria finally raised his hand.
"That's enough for today."
They sagged where they stood, relief washing over them.
Ash wiped sweat from his face. "So… what's tomorrow?"
Lunaria looked toward the horizon, eyes distant.
"Tomorrow," he said quietly, "you'll learn how to hide killing intent."
Riven groaned. "Of course."
Kael tilted his head. "Hide it… from who?"
Lunaria didn't answer right away.
Then he said, "From enemies who are strong enough to kill you the moment they sense it."
Silence followed.
The valley darkened as night crept in.
And for the first time since training began, they all understood—
Power wasn't what Lunaria feared.
It was being seen.
And whatever waited ahead…
They were being prepared not just to fight it—
But to survive its attention.