We diverge our attention from him onto Saint.
I found myself in the depths of contemplation. After my recent encounter with him, I realized he lacked every attribute befitting the title he is supposed to succeed. He was nowhere near what he was supposed to embody, merely a wretched boy thrust into a role he could never fulfill. His frailty was glaring—how can one save without the power to obliterate all obstacles in their path? His trembling hands and faltering resolve were pitiful.
How could he hope to withstand the
He was nothing more than a child donning that man's guise, pretending to be something he could never be. But of course, how could I permit this farce to continue? He is supposed to be my rival. I cannot suffer such a creature to be my adversary if he can barely withstand a mere gust of wind. It is almost insulting, the thought that this weakling was meant to challenge me.
No, I require someone who can push me to my limits, someone whose mere presence commands reverence. This frail imitation of that man is a blight upon my aspirations. I must dismantle him, break him down and reconstruct him, until he is worthy of standing in my shadow. Only then will our dance of fate hold any significance.
For now, I bide my time, observing as he struggles to crawl from the abyss of his own darkness. And when he finally emerges, forged by my hands, perhaps then he will be fit to face me. Until that day, he remains but a footnote in my inexorable ascent to dominion.
Pitiful, wretched creature, won't you amuse me with your futile struggle? Show me the depths of your despair as you claw your way towards a destiny you can never grasp.
Emerging from my deep state of contemplation, I found myself instinctively scanning my surroundings, my gaze sharp and calculating, ensuring no prying eyes were upon me. Satisfied that I was alone, I opened a hand.
Emerging from my palm were tiny particles of glowing light. They drifted upward, slow at first, then started pulsing—growing brighter, more alive. They didn't just glow. They moved—like they had a purpose. As they gathered, they began weaving into something more—lines, dots, and tight grids slowly pulling themselves together. The shapes all had different sizes and patterns, some simple, others complex, but they all locked into place like chess pieces in simple formations.
Before me floated a map.
Not just a flat thing. This was layered, shifting. Living. With a single wave of my hand, the grid shifted—new shapes appeared, almost like copies, but each one slightly off. Different. The same structure repeated again and again, but the insides were twisted. These weren't random spheres—they were worlds. Each one its own version of the same thing, repeating with slight changes. Some were empty. Some looked scorched. Others were frozen still, like time had stopped inside.
Then I saw it.
A single black marker near the bottom of the display. It didn't flicker like the others. It pulsed. Slow. Heavy. Almost like it had a heartbeat. The color wasn't just black—it had a kind of dull blue inside it, like a bruise that never healed.
Relief washed over me as I reassured myself with the thought, "It seems I didn't accidentally kill him, good." With a final glance at the now-concealed map, I set my course north, the direction clear.
Why is Saint heading north, one may ask? Only he knows. After all...
Now, once more, we diverge from Saint back to him.
The night pressed in, suffocating and dense, as if the very fabric of the world had thickened into a choking miasma. The forest around him morphed into a labyrinth of shadows and skeletal trees, their gnarled branches seeming to close in with every frantic breath. His feet pounded against the damp, uneven earth, dead leaves crunching under his feet. Each exhale felt like fire in his lungs, the result of pushing himself beyond his limits.
The darkness was alive with whispers and eerie laughter that seemed to emanate from the trees themselves—mocking, malicious, inescapable.
"Run, run, run," the voices chanted, disembodied and sinister, their echoes weaving a haunting chorus from every direction. His heart thundered in his chest, each beat a desperate reminder of the danger he faced. His hand clutched his chest, trying to steady the frantic rhythm, the fabric of his oversized shirt sticking to his sweat-soaked skin. His mind raced, struggling to find an escape from the endless chase. He dared not glance back, yet he could feel it—a relentless presence pressing down on him, driving him deeper into the forest's twisting paths.
At first, it seemed almost human, its silhouette disturbingly familiar—short and lean, mirroring his own form. But where his body was warm and tangible, this creature was a void, a dark abyss that seemed to swallow light. Its white eyes glowed with an unfeeling cold, tracking his every move with eerie patience. Moonlit hair trailed behind it, an unsettling mockery of comfort that only deepened the sense of dread. The creature moved slowly, methodically, savoring the hunt with each deliberate step, sending icy shivers down his spine.
Without warning, it dropped to all fours, its body contorting into a nightmarish, beastly form. The sound of its gallop grew louder, a rapid, haunting rhythm that reverberated through the forest as it closed the distance between them. His breath caught in his throat, legs straining to move faster, but the effort was futile. The creature was upon him, its maw opening wide, revealing rows of jagged, needle-like teeth that glistened in the pale moonlight.
As it lunged, its jaw stretched grotesquely, enveloping his entire head. From deep within its throat, more eyes blinked open—horrific, beady things glowing with malevolent light, staring down at him from the very gullet of the beast.
A woman's voice pierced his mind, a sharp, agonizing presence like his skull being battered against stone. This voice was one he could never forget, shaking him to his core. A tear, a glistening drop of humanity, slipped from his eye, trailing down his cheek and ending at his chin.
"Ado-!"
Just as the creature's jaws were about to snap shut, darkness consuming him entirely, he jolted awake with a scream ripping from his throat. His heart hammered wildly in his chest, the sheets beneath him drenched with cold sweat. He sat up too quickly, the room spinning in a disorienting blur, and the nausea crashed over him like a tidal wave. Leaning over the side of the bed, he vomited, his body trembling with the aftershocks of terror.
For a moment, he sat there, gasping for breath, his mind still ensnared by the lingering horror of the nightmare. The laughter echoed in his ears, the memory of those glowing eyes etched into the darkness behind his eyelids. Wiping his mouth with a shaky hand, he stared at the mess on the floor, consumed by a silent fury.
"Fuck…"
Yuga abruptly rose from his bed, his movements sharp and deliberate, as if jolted from a trance. The bandages clung to his skin, tightly wrapping from his neck down to his waist. The once-white fabric was now streaked with faint traces of dried blood and sweat. As the sheets and blankets slipped from his body and crumpled to the floor, the setting sun's light filtered through the window, casting the room in hues of bright magenta and orange. The rays bathed his exposed skin, illuminating the contours of his battered form and offering a fleeting warmth to his aching muscles.
He raised his arms above his head, stretching out the stiffness that had settled in his limbs. The movement elicited a deep, involuntary groan from his lips. His gaze fell to his palm, where a large, jagged scar marred the once-smooth surface. It resembled a burn or a puncture—an unforgiving reminder of the ordeal that had brought him to this state.
The man named SAINT. It was unbelievable. How could he have been defeated by someone with less experience? Yuga couldn't help but scoff, the memory of the fight stirring a tumult of emotions—fear, anger, confusion—though they were quickly eclipsed by a sharp, jarring pain that shot through his arm. His muscles twitched and convulsed beneath the skin, forcing his arm into an unnatural angle.
Yuga stood still, grappling with the sudden and intense sensation. His mind struggled to make sense of the pain and the fractured remnants of his pride.
Yuga hissed through clenched teeth, his face contorted in agony as he fought to control the erratic movement of his limb. With trembling hands, he began to peel away the layers of bandages that criss-crossed his body. The process was excruciatingly slow, each tug and pull revealing the horrors beneath. Scars marred his flesh—some thin and precise, others rough and jagged, as if savaged by something with no regard for human life. His abdomen, back, and arms were a patchwork of sewn wounds, the stitches still fresh and raw, while various bruises bloomed across his once-perfect skin like dark, poisonous flowers.
Yuga's breath quickened as he tore away the last of the bandages, his chest heaving with a mix of panic and disbelief. He stumbled toward the mirror, his reflection a stranger's—disfigured, broken, haunted.
His fingers traced the path of a particularly vicious scar that ran from his collarbone to his navel, the flesh puckered and uneven. The sight of it filled him with visceral dread. His mind raced, trying to recall the moment it had been inflicted, but the memories were a blur—a disjointed collage of pain and terror. That scar wasn't from Saint. What could it be from?
His frantic examination was abruptly interrupted by a sudden sound—faint, almost imperceptible, but unmistakably real. His heart lurched in his chest as he whipped around, eyes wide with fear. The door knob turned, bathed in the eerie glow of the dying sun, but the silence was heavy, oppressive, as if something unseen was lurking just beyond his line of sight.
A woman's voice then broke the silence, its sensual tone inquiring about how he was feeling. The voice cut through the tension like a knife, amplifying the anxiety that clenched at his chest.
"So tell me, little 'traveler,' how was your sleep?" The woman's voice was smooth but carried a faint edge of peculiar menace.
"You've been infringing on our dear guild master Tomoki for a week now. I believe he is due some payment. Perhaps serving him might appease his slight annoyance." As she spoke, she gradually opened the door wider and slithered into the room, circling Yuga with a predatory gaze.
Salina's eyes roamed over him, a sly smile curling at her lips. She let out a soft giggle, a sound laced with both amusement and condescension. "Your little friend down there seems happy. Perhaps you should get dressed? I'll meet you downstairs. Don't make me wait too long."
Yuga's face flushed a deep crimson as he dashed into the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the heat rising from his cheeks. Fumbling through the small pile of clothes on the floor, his hands trembled slightly as he grabbed a shirt made of smooth linen. The fabric felt soft against his bandaged skin, brushing against his wounds and causing a brief sting of discomfort as he slipped it on.
Next, he grabbed the trousers he'd worn the night before the tournament—long, baggy, and black, hanging loosely on his thin frame. He slid them on with practiced ease, the familiar feel of the worn fabric providing a small sense of comfort. His feet found their way into a pair of old boots, their laces frayed and thinning from countless battles. He tugged at them, trying to secure the boots as best as he could, aware that they wouldn't hold up for much longer.
In his haste, Yuga hurried down the steps of the inn, his boots clunking loudly against the wooden floorboards. He spotted an apple resting in a bowl near the door and snatched it up without thinking, taking a quick bite. The crunch of the apple was sharp and sweet, offering a brief distraction from his racing thoughts.
Just as he was about to rush out the door, Linda, the innkeeper, stepped in front of him, her eyes filled with concern. "Hold on a second, Yuga," she said, her voice soft but firm. She beckoned him closer, her hands already reaching out to adjust his clothing. Yuga hesitated but stepped forward, his face still a faint shade of red.
Linda's hands worked quickly, her fingers deftly tying the strings at his neck and smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. "You look like you've been through the wringer," she murmured, her voice carrying a motherly worry. She adjusted the fit of his trousers, making sure they sat properly on his smaller frame, then placed a gentle hand on his forehead. Yuga stiffened at the contact, his cheeks turning a soft pink.
"I'm fine, really," Yuga assured her, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel his pulse quicken under her touch, the warmth of her hand almost comforting.
Linda studied his face for a moment, her eyes searching for any sign of illness or distress. Satisfied, she finally smiled and handed him a bottle of ale. "Here, take this with you. It might calm your nerves."
Yuga nodded, accepting the bottle with a grateful smile. He was about to leave when he spotted a leather strap hanging by the door. In one swift motion, he grabbed it and fashioned it into a makeshift belt, tightening it around his waist.
"Take care of yourself, Yuga," Linda called after him, her voice tinged with affection. Yuga gave her a quick nod and a faint smile before rushing out the back door. The cool morning air hit his flushed face as he stepped into the world beyond, the weight of his new day pressing upon him.
Salina, with her graceful curves and an aura of undeniable charm, waited for Yuga near the entrance of a shadowy back alley, just a short distance from the inn. She leaned against the cool surface of a stone brick wall, exhaling softly before pushing herself away from it. With a seductive flick of her finger, she beckoned Yuga to follow. Yuga, his expression calm and composed, silently obliged, trailing behind her as she led the way.
The night had begun its slow descent as they ventured through the winding streets of Iota, the city's bustling life gradually dimming as they moved farther from the crowded heart of the town. The streets were narrow and lined with ancient stone buildings, their windows dark and empty, as if the very city itself had gone to sleep.
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and distant rain, mingled with the faint aroma of smoke from the last of the evening fires. Shadows stretched long across the cobblestones, and the distant sound of a lute being played somewhere in the night provided a haunting melody to their journey.
The west gate loomed ahead, its iron bars rusted with age, creaking slightly as they passed through. Beyond the gate, the world seemed to shift. The city gave way to a wild, untamed landscape, where the night was alive with the sounds of the forest.
The trees stood tall and ancient, their thick trunks twisted and gnarled, as though they had witnessed centuries of secrets. The ground beneath their feet softened to a carpet of fallen leaves, each step muffled and almost soundless. Above, the canopy was dense, with only slivers of moonlight breaking through, casting ghostly patterns on the forest floor.
As they walked deeper into the woods, the air grew cooler, the scent of pine and damp moss growing stronger with each passing moment. The path they followed was narrow, almost indistinguishable from the rest of the forest, and it wound through the trees like a serpent, leading them further from the safety of the city. Yuga's bright petal eyes, glowing softly in the darkness, contrasted sharply with the natural hues around him, casting a strange light on the path ahead.
After what felt like an eternity of walking, they finally emerged into a small clearing. Here, the forest seemed to open up, revealing a secluded pond nestled among the trees. The water was still and dark, like a mirror reflecting the night sky above. The stars glittered on its surface, their light intermingling with the occasional ripple caused by a fish or a gentle breeze. The trees surrounding the pond were ancient and tall, their branches reaching out over the water as if to cradle it. The ground near the water's edge was soft and slightly damp, covered in a thick layer of moss that muffled their footsteps as they approached.
The atmosphere was otherworldly, as though they had stepped into a place forgotten by time. The silence was profound, broken only by the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. The pond itself seemed almost alive, its surface shifting gently in the night, reflecting the rose glow of Yuga's eyes and the faint light of the moon.
Salina stopped at the water's edge, her violet eyes glowing brighter now as she turned to Yuga, the reflection of the pond casting an ethereal light on her delicate features. She took a moment to clear her throat before speaking, her voice calm and composed.
"Forgive me, allow me to finish my work. Remove your clothing."
Yuga stood still, his heart skipping a beat as various owls began to hoot in the distance. When their calls ended, the forest seemed eerily empty. He held himself tightly, looking over at her with a mix of concern and fear. Salina smiled kindly, her voice gentle yet insistent as she repeated herself.
"Remove your clothes."
Yuga's face twisted into an expression of sadness, fear, and worry. He stuttered, his voice shaking with disbelief, "Y-You're a f-f-freak, lady!"
Before he could react further, Salina's fist connected with the crown of his head, not hard enough to seriously hurt him but enough to send a sharp jolt of pain through his skull. She swiftly ripped his shirt from his body, exposing his bare chest. Her hand pressed directly over his heart, feeling the rapid, erratic rhythm of his organ beneath her palm. Leaning in close, she whispered seductively into his ear.
"Calm yourself, little one. I simply want to heal you. Now relax and let me ease your nerves."
As she began to hum a soft, melodic tune, Yuga's heartbeat slowly steadied. The melody seemed to resonate through his entire being, and his body gradually became enveloped in a bright violet light, similar to the glow in Salina's eyes. The light felt warm and soothing, washing away the pain from his wounds. The stitches, bruises, and aches all faded within minutes, leaving his skin smooth and unmarred as if the injuries had never been there at all.
Yuga stared at her, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and confusion. "What did you do? How am I healed? Why can I move so freely, How did you do that?"
Salina smiled softly, her eyes still glowing with that otherworldly light as she gently patted his now uninjured chest.
"Magic, dear Yuga. Something far older and far more powerful than you could ever imagine. Now, rest easy. You're safe with me." Yuga scoffed, his expression shifting to a pout, before responding with a slight edge in his voice.
"I know what magic is. I'm not an idiot; I can handle the basics. But that didn't feel like magic. You shouldn't lie to people."
Salina gasped, feigning shock as she placed a hand over her mouth, only for her expression to quickly morph into a smug grin. She retorted playfully, her tone dripping with mocking innocent tone.
"My-my, you're one to talk about lying~. Aren't you the biggest liar here? Calling someone else a liar when you are one yourself—seems kind of hypocritical to me. But I digress. I can explain it to you tomorrow."
She hummed softly, skipping off into the endless darkness of the wilderness, leaving Yuga shirtless and abandoned.
.
.
.
As dawn broke, the sky clung to a deep, velvety blue, the remnants of night resisting the coming day. The inn was shrouded in a soft, pre-daylight gloom, with only the faintest glimmers of sunlight piercing through the heavy shutters. Outside, the world stirred awake—birds began their morning calls, and the nocturnal creatures that had prowled the night retreated to their hidden corners.
Yuga stumbled through the inn's front door, his steps heavy and uneven. He was drenched and caked in mud, as though he had wrestled with the forest beyond the western gate of the city. Despite Salina's healing, exhaustion and grime weighed him down.
He shuffled past the bar and the empty tables, each step toward the stairs a struggle against his fatigue. Just as he was about to ascend, a loud, urgent klang echoed through the inn. Yuga slowly dropped to his knees, clutching his head in agony. The pain was sharp—like something had cracked inside him. He groaned, blinking through the dizziness. Something had hit him.
Turning slightly, he spotted a bottle of ale rolling lazily at the bottom of the steps, clinking softly against the stone.
His gaze shifted upward, back to the hallway at the top of the stairs.
And there she was.
Linda appeared in the hallway, her face a mix of frustration and concern. Her short brown hair was slightly disheveled, and the tan linen nightgown she wore flowed around her in the soft morning light, giving her an almost angelic quality.
"Yuga!" she exclaimed, her voice sharp with a blend of irritation and worry.
"You said you'd be back! It's already dawn! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there? People can be so cruel, especially to someone in your state. You promised me you'd return safely!"
Her words spilled out in a rush, filled with an urgency that felt almost genuine. Yuga, clearly irritated, rolled his eyes and huffed. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You don't have to keep reminding me. I'm fine. It's not like I'm helpless."
Linda's face flushed, her eyes wide with a mix of frustration. "It's not about being helpless. It's about caring for someone who's obviously struggling. You can't just ignore the risks and act like everything's fine."
"Struggling...me? Who the hell are you talking about?" Yuga spat, his tone defensive. His shoulders tensed, irritation boiling over.
"I'm not some kid who needs to be told what to do all the time. I know what I'm doing. I don't need your nagging. You hit me in my head as soon as I walk through the door and then act as if you care about my well-being?"
Linda's eyes squinted. "I'm not nagging! I'm trying to make sure you're safe. If you can't appreciate that, then maybe you're the one who has a problem."
Yuga's expression hardened, his voice cold. "Maybe I do have a problem. But it's not your job to fix it. I don't see why you're so invested in making sure I'm okay. We don't even know each other well. What makes you think you can help me with my problems?" His hands balled into fists, his nails digging into his palms.
Linda took a deep breath, her face a mask of frustration mixed with compassion. "It's not about knowing each other deeply. It's about basic decency. Everyone here is like family to me. I want to make sure that everyone is safe and cared for, even if they don't appreciate it."
Yuga shouted, his voice filled with an intensity that startled even him. "I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING FAMILY!!"
In a sudden, impulsive outburst, Yuga raised his arm and slammed it through a nearby table. The wood fractured and splintered in an instant, the force of the blow causing even the floorboards beneath it to break. His fist, now bruised, throbbed with pain. Linda flinched, her hands raising defensively as fear flickered in her eyes.
Seeing her afraid of him, Yuga's anger quickly turned into self-loathing. The realization that he had scared her made him feel sick to his stomach, the thought of being no better than the drunkards who frequented the inn gnawing at him. His body trembled with regret and loathing.
Yuga's eyes softened, though he still struggled to fully relax. "I didn't- I didn't mean to be a jerk. I just... I'm not used to this. It feels strange, having someone care. I didn't mean to scare you. I apologize truly."
Linda offered a small, understanding smile. "It's okay to be guarded, but don't push people away who genuinely want to help. Everyone wants to guard something—whether it be a belief, an idea, a dream, a goal, or an aspiration. People have a tendency to want to keep things safe. But it's not a weakness to accept support."
Her smile widened, and she extended a hand toward him. "Come on, let's get a drink and start breakfast. We can talk more later if you want."
Yuga took her hand, his irritation fading into a quieter, more contemplative mood. He sighed before a smile crept onto his dirt-covered face. Yuga had smiled many times since coming to this world, but this time, he smiled for someone else. He then whispered, "Sure, Linda, let's get a drink."
Linda and Yuga moved toward the bar, the soft thud of their feet mingling with the waking sounds of the inn and the groans of animals. The bar was a heavy, wooden counter polished by years of use, its surface lined with a haphazard collection of mugs and bottles. Linda reached for a bottle from the shelf behind her—a dark, slightly dusty vessel sealed with a waxy cork. The label, old and curling, bore a faded crest and intricate script.
With a twist, Linda uncorked the bottle, and a rich, spicy aroma wafted into the air, hinting at its aged complexity. The liquid inside was a deep amber, catching the soft morning light as Linda poured it into a sturdy, earthenware mug. The mug felt solid in Yuga's hands, its glaze smooth and cool.
Yuga took a cautious sip. The warmth of the drink spread through him, its flavor a comforting blend of honey and spices. Notes of cinnamon and clove mingled with a subtle hint of oak, creating a depth that was both soothing and invigorating. The aftertaste was pleasantly smoky, leaving him with a sense of satisfaction. The drink was more than just a morning pick-me-up; it was a small joy.
As dawn broke, the sky seemed to burst into life, a canvas set alight with the intensity of a new day. The horizon was a fiery ribbon of molten gold and blazing orange, casting its searing glow into the heavens. Above, the clouds transformed into vast, undulating fields of ripened crops, their billowing shapes reminiscent of golden wheat bending in an unseen breeze.
Yet beneath this tranquil appearance, a darker force rumbled. The edges of the clouds were streaked with smoky grays and ominous blacks, as though the sky itself was smoldering with an ancient, fiery rage. It felt as if the heavens had opened up, allowing the fierce, apocalyptic flames of some cosmic fire to spill across the dawn, bringing with it the wrath of the creators.
Linda turned to Yuga, her eyes reflecting the fiery hues of the morning. "Look at that. The sky's on fire. It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Yuga followed her gaze, the intensity of the sunrise mirroring the shift in his own feelings. "Yeah, it is. It's... kind of perfect."
Linda chuckled softly, giving a heartfelt smile. "Sometimes, things that seem overwhelming or unexpected can turn out to be beautiful in their own way. Maybe it's the same with people."
Yuga stared at Linda, his eyes locked onto her smile, and the only thought he could muster was,
I will never forgive him.
who exactly is yuga thinking about?
The day arrived, with the sun hanging high and casting its warm light over the bustling city. The inn at the city's heart was alive with noise and activity. The smells of roasting meat and fresh bread mingled in the air, while lively music from lutes filled the space, accompanied by bursts of laughter and the clinking of mugs. Adventurers and townsfolk crowded the tables, lost in their own conversations and merriment. Amidst this revelry, Yuga sat alone at the bar, distinctly out of place.
Yuga's appearance spoke volumes. His white hair, usually meticulously maintained, had become a tangled mess. Strands stuck out at odd angles, some plastered against his forehead while others curled wildly. The once-soft frame for his face now hung over his eyes, merging with his lashes and giving him a ghostly appearance. As he lifted his head from the counter, a thin line of drool escaped the corner of his mouth, unnoticed as it dripped onto the wood below. His bright neon pink eyes were dimmed, clouded by exhaustion and a deeper, darker malaise that he couldn't shake.
With a low groan, Yuga pushed himself upright, running a trembling hand through his unruly hair. He tugged at a stubborn knot before giving up, allowing his hair to fall back into its chaotic state. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he winced as the bandages on his skin scraped against his body, a reminder of the former scars beneath. Standing felt like an effort in itself, his legs barely supporting his weight as he stumbled to his feet.
The inn, once a blur of sound and light, now felt like a heavy blanket pressing in from all sides. He moved toward the door, each step slow and uncertain, as though navigating through deep water. Before stepping outside, he instinctively reached for an apple from a nearby bowl. The action was mechanical, driven more by habit than hunger. He bit into the apple, the crisp sweetness offering a brief moment of clarity in the haze clouding his mind.
Outside, the afternoon sun struck him like a wall, making him blink against the brightness. The city was alive with activity—merchants shouting their wares, children running through the streets, and the distant clatter of hooves on cobblestones. Yet, it all felt distant, as if he were observing it through a thick pane of glass.
He scratched absently at his neck, the rough skin beneath his fingertips a reminder of the previous night. His half-lidded eyes scanned the scene, seeking something familiar to ground him. Finally, his gaze settled on the west gate, leading out of the city and into the forest beyond.
With little thought, Yuga began walking, his pace slow but determined. Each step felt like an effort, his body protesting with every movement, but he pressed on, driven by a force he couldn't quite name. The stones of the road were worn smooth by countless travelers, and soon the noise and chaos of the city began to fade, replaced by the quiet of the open road. Ahead, the forest loomed dark against the bright sky, starkly reminding him of the path he had taken the previous day.
The walk felt shorter this time, though each step seemed to drag on longer than the last. The events of the previous day replayed in his mind—fragmented and disordered, leaving him with a gnawing unease he couldn't shake. He remembered the forest, the strange sense of foreboding, and the encounter with Salina. But the memories were murky, like trying to see through fogged glass.
The more he tried to piece them together, the more elusive they became. Had he ever truly felt her presence or the breath of life from her? Not once had he seen her among others; only around him did she appear. Yet, she seemed to know everything that occurred.
Eventually, Yuga reached the edge of the forest, the path narrowing as it wound through thick underbrush. He followed it, feeling an odd sense of inevitability, as though an unseen force was pulling him forward. The trees closed in around him, their ancient trunks twisting and turning, branches forming a canopy overhead that filtered the sunlight into a patchwork of light and shadow. The air was cooler here, carrying the rich scent of earth and damp leaves.
After what felt like an eternity of walking, Yuga emerged into a small clearing. The sight stopped him in his tracks—a perfect circle of grass, untouched and pristine, as if no living thing had ever disturbed it. The clearing was eerily symmetrical, the grass a uniform green with not a single blade out of place. It felt too deliberate, too perfect to be natural, as if crafted by unseen hands.
Yuga looked up at the sky, frowning as he noticed something odd. The sun was still high, but it hadn't moved since he left the city. The realization sent a chill through him. Time seemed to have stopped—or perhaps it was moving differently here. His instincts, sharpened by years of experience, screamed that something was very wrong.
He knelt down, pressing his ear to the ground, hoping to feel the vibrations of life—footsteps, the rustle of animals, even the hum of insects. But there was nothing. The earth beneath him was cool and still, the silence pressing in like a heavy weight. Slowly, he stood up, brushing off the grass that clung to his clothes. In his hand, he still held the apple core, now little more than a gnawed husk. He looked around, his eyes narrowing as he took in the clearing. The path he had taken was gone, swallowed by the trees, and the forest around him was a labyrinth of identical trunks and twisted branches.
His gaze returned to the clearing itself, and for the first time, he noticed how unnaturally perfect it was. He noticed a strange image of a river but fractal like broken glass behind the trunks and weeds. A deep sense of foreboding settled over him as he moved toward the center of the clearing. He flicked his wrist, tossing the apple core into the air. It spun once before falling straight down, hitting the ground with a dull thud that seemed to echo far longer than it should have.
Then came a sound—a soft, liquid noise, like something moving through water. Yuga froze, his senses sharpening, every instinct on high alert. Slowly, he extended his hand, feeling the air before him, searching for something he couldn't see.
The noise grew louder, more distinct, as though it was coming from just beyond the veil of reality. His fingers brushed against something unseen, something that pushed back slightly against his touch, like thick fog. He kept moving his hand, and in his mind, a shape began to form—a large, rectangular shape, like a door or an opening overing just out of sight.
The air around him thrummed with a noise, ancient and unfamiliar. Yuga wasn't new to the arcane, but this was something different, something far more dangerous than anything he had encountered before. He hesitated, weighing his options. Too many variables, too many unknowns. Whatever lay beyond this portal of sorts was a gamble, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to take the risk.
But curiosity, mingled with a need to understand, overrode his caution. He bent down and picked up a stone from the ground, its rough surface cool in his palm. With a deep breath, he hurled it into the space before him. The stone sailed through the air, vanishing into the unseen, and a second later, the sound of shattering glass filled the clearing, followed by the unmistakable clatter of shards hitting the ground.
Yuga's heart pounded as he stared at the spot where the stone had disappeared. Whatever was on the other side, it wasn't of this world. Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and pressed his hand against the invisible barrier. It resisted, the air thickening around him, but after a moment of effort, it gave way, and Yuga stumbled forward.
He fell through the portal, his body hitting the ground hard. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, leaving him momentarily stunned, the world spinning around him. When he managed to push himself up, he found himself in a place both familiar and strange. The clearing was gone, replaced by another grassy field, eerily similar to the one he had just left. But this place was different in ways that sent a shiver down his spine.
A small cabin stood by a river, its wooden walls darkened by time and weather. Beside it was another structure, its window shattered, shards of glass scattered across the ground like fallen stars. The sound of rushing water filled the air, mingling with the soft grunts of animals. Yuga turned, and his eyes fell on a group of sheep and pigs nearby, their gaze fixed on him with a mix of curiosity and caution.
The animals watched him intently, their eyes reflecting a strange intelligence, as if they understood that he didn't belong here. Yuga's breath caught in his throat as a deep sense of unease settled over him. This place, wherever it was—
A woman's voice cut through the unusual silence before it could become unsettling. "Ah? Little traveler, what are you doing here? I don't recall inviting you to my residence."
It was Salina, dressed in nightly attire that seemed scandalously inappropriate and unfit for her curves. She leaned over Yuga with a smile before placing a hand on his chin, lifting his gaze to meet her own.
"Don't tell me you came to visit me? That would warm my heart."
Salina pressed her tall and voluptuous body against Yuga, causing him to panic as his body temperature spiked. Her lips came close to his, but then she stopped, her expression shifting to one of confusion and intrigue. With a swift motion, she ripped open his shirt, revealing his bare chest. She began examining his physique with a clinical curiosity.
After only a minute, she snapped her fingers, and a new shirt appeared, sliding itself onto Yuga. Salina sighed and turned, heading toward the farthest cabin.
"Come now, I have some questions and answers for you."
Yuga trailed behind Salina, his steps cautious and quiet as they passed by a series of pens where an assortment of animals were engrossed in their meals. The soft clinking of metal feeders and the rustling of hay filled the air, accompanied by the occasional bleat or grunt. A sheep let out a loud burp as the pair walked by, causing Yuga to stifle a chuckle, but his amusement quickly faded as they neared the farthest cabin on the property.
Salina, moving with a grace that belied her size, crouched slightly as she pushed open the weathered door. It was only then that Yuga fully noticed how tall she was—taller than most men he had known. Yet, her height did nothing to diminish her feminine allure. She was a striking figure, one who could easily captivate the attention of many. Yuga found himself momentarily lost in thought, his mind wandering to the subtle curves of her form, the strength in her posture, and the mystery that seemed to shroud her every movement. A flush of red crept up his cheeks as his thoughts strayed too far, and he quickly averted his gaze.
As he followed her inside, however, his embarrassment was swiftly replaced by sheer awe. The cabin was a world unto itself, a place where the ordinary and the extraordinary blended seamlessly. The interior was alive with creatures the likes of which Yuga had never imagined. There were serpents with two heads, their scales shimmering with an eerie bioluminescence, and rodents with wings that fluttered softly as they perched on high shelves. Insects with the faces of men skittered across the floor, while dogs and cats with impossibly clean, glossy fur moved about with an unsettling grace.
Yuga's eyes were drawn upward, toward the roof, where the rafters and scaffolds were crowded with birds of every conceivable color, their feathers forming a kaleidoscope of hues. Among them, two golden, bead-like eyes caught his attention, gleaming down at him from the shadows. They belonged to a creature cloaked in an astral, almost otherworldly darkness—a panther, its massive form both majestic and terrifying. Yuga's breath caught in his throat as he realized this was no ordinary beast, but a spirit, an animal blessed by forces beyond his comprehension. Despite its spectral nature, the panther's presence was tangible, its silent gaze tracking his every move.
Swallowing his fear, Yuga stepped forward, his movements tentative. The panther, sensing his hesitance, lowered its stance slightly, its muscles relaxing as if to show it meant no harm. Salina, standing nearby, seemed unfazed by the presence of these incredible creatures, as if this was all perfectly normal to her.
Yuga's gaze roamed over the rest of the cabin. It was filled with oddities—strange artifacts and trinkets that hummed with power. Some objects appeared almost sentient, their surfaces pulsing or shifting subtly, while others exuded an aura that seemed to draw him in, compelling him to reach out and touch them. Bookshelves lined the walls, crammed with ancient tomes and scrolls, their pages whispering secrets of times long past.
Yuga tiptoed cautiously through the cluttered room, his eyes darting between the countless books and peculiar objects scattered across the floor. Each step was a careful maneuver to avoid disturbing the chaotic array of items. The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment and dust, mingling with a faint aroma of herbs. Just as he was about to reach the far side of the room, he froze, his attention caught by the soft murmur of Salina's voice.
She was standing by a smaller table, her back to him as she mumbled to herself, seemingly lost in thought. With a deliberate motion, she turned around and placed a stack of papers on the table, the rustling of the pages breaking the silence.
Then, with a swift tug, she loosened the ribbon around her waist, and her silk robe slipped from her shoulders, cascading to the floor in a whisper of fabric. Yuga, in that fleeting moment, caught a glimpse of her silhouette—the elegant curve of her back, the fullness of her chest, the generous swell of her hips. His heart raced, and in a desperate attempt to maintain his composure, he spun around, covering his eyes with his hands.
His face burned with embarrassment, a deep crimson spreading across his cheeks as he cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice.
"How the hell did you know I was hurt, huh? Or that I'd even show up at that damn assessment in the first place? You knew I'd get into a fight—hell, you even knew the second I woke up after getting my ass handed to me. You know all this creepy, specific shit about me… and I don't know a damn thing about you. So go on—how do you know this stuff?"
Salina, now fully dressed in a flowing gown that hugged her form, took a seat in a nearby chair. With a casual snap of her fingers, a pot floated into the air, gliding toward Yuga with sentient grace. As it hovered before him, a bookshelf in the corner of the room began to tremble, and suddenly, a solid object flew off the shelf, streaking toward his face. Yuga flinched, his body tensing, but the object halted abruptly, hovering in front of his eye before gently landing on the carpet. The pot then tipped forward, pouring a warm, aromatic liquid into a cup below, the steam curling upward in delicate tendrils.
Salina chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she crossed her legs, pointing casually to the table behind Yuga. The pot obediently floated over, settling itself down as if it had fulfilled its purpose. She sighed, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the arm of her chair before she cleared her throat, her expression shifting to one of mild seriousness.
"Very well, let me clear the air," she began, her tone measured. "I knew you'd enter the assessment because I saw you in the guild's lobby. Then I watched you head to the Drunken Serpent, which happens to be owned by an employee of mine—the guild master, Tomoki, who is now your new associate. I witnessed your battle against Saint and healed you when you lost. You were out cold for an entire week, and I tended to you every day."
Yuga, who had just taken a sip of the tea, nearly choked, the liquid spilling from his mouth as he sputtered, "I was out for a week?!"
Salina let out a quick, lighthearted laugh, her lips curling into a smirk as she continued. A cup filled with tea from the floating pot appeared just below her chin, awaiting her grasp.
"Indeed, for a whole week. Now, I'm sure you have another question—how do I know all of this, and how do I have the connections necessary? From this cabin alone, you've likely deduced that I'm a collector of sorts, and it might surprise you to learn that I'm not just any mage. I'm one of the best in the country, if not the world. I'm known as the 'Second Hand'… or to put it simply, I'm one of the six figures who govern Ambrassia, the country you've so boldly entered. I'm known as the Hand of Knowledge."
The revelation hung in the air, thick with tension. Yuga's hand froze, the cup of tea halting midway to his lips as the weight of her words settled over him. His demeanor shifted, his eyes narrowing, his gaze hardening as a tremor ran through his body. Fear began to coil around his heart like a cold serpent, the memory of his defeat at Saint's hands stirring within him. The mere thought of facing such humiliation and pain again was enough to make him shudder.
Salina, noticing his discomfort, covered her mouth with her hand, a condescending laugh escaping her lips.
"Don't worry, Yuga. No one is going to hurt you here. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I'm glad you came today because there's someone I want you to meet. But before we get to that, I'd like to address something. You're hiding something, and I'd like to know if that recent fight with an unknown and unpredictable opponent taught you anything. That was the goal, after all."
Yuga scoffed, a bitter sound, as he mumbled something under his breath. He made a move to stand, but before he could fully rise, Salina's voice cut through the air, calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "Sit. I wasn't finished. It's rude to leave while a lady is speaking."
Her command froze him in place, and he quickly sank back into his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. Salina took a slow, deliberate sip from her teacup, her eyes never leaving him as she continued, her tone shifting to one of eager curiosity.
"Now, I have a question for you. What was that strange spell you used during your fight? Shiva, was it? I found it quite fascinating. Could you explain what you did to conjure it? Perhaps you're a conjuror or an augmenter? I believe you used words to cast it, correct? Please, I'm very interested!"
Yuga's expression shifted from one of surprise to deep concern as a searing pain began to spread through his chest. It felt as though molten metal was being poured onto his skin, the heat intensifying with each passing second. He tried to speak, to cut her off, but no sound escaped his lips. Salina's eyes gleamed with excitement, her interest in his predicament only growing.
She snapped her fingers as if remembering something crucial. "Ah, right. I suppose it does feel strange, doesn't it? Let me explain. The tea you drank was laced with a drug that relaxes the body. The cup itself is a magic item that forbids you from lying, and the pot allows me to control the contents within as I see fit. So, as of right now, you're a prisoner—at least until I decide otherwise. You cannot lie, even if you want to. The tea will gradually burn your stomach, so I suggest you answer my questions truthfully. Now, tell me—how were you able to use such a powerful magical attack during your battle, yet seem to lack the necessary magic when I healed you?"
Salina's gaze was unyielding, her curiosity insatiable, as she awaited Yuga's answer. The room seemed to close in around him, the air thick with tension.
Yuga exhaled heavily, the weight of what he was about to share pressing down on him. His voice was steady but with a hint of reluctance as he began to unravel the secret behind his peculiar powers.
"I've got a bit of a… problem," Yuga muttered, scratching the back of his head and glancing down, like the words were hiding somewhere on the damn floor. "To use what I've been given—this power—I gotta pray. Not the hands-clasped, temple-burning-incense type. Nah, it's more like chanting. A mantra. Real specific. Gotta say the whole thing start to finish with zero interruptions, or it all goes to shit."
He held up a finger, then tapped his temple. "If I pull it off? I get access to the Twenty-One Seasons—twenty-one techniques, each one with its own little twist. Some are simple. Others? Not so much. They get more insane the higher up you go. Risky stuff."
He paused, his expression tightening. "Like when I used Shiva. That one? It demands that every bit of magic around me—and inside me—starts to vibrate. Doesn't matter if it's mine or someone else's. It all gets yanked into one point of my body. Then it's packed tight, charged up, and—boom—unleashed in one hell of a blast."
A dark chuckle escaped him. "The aftermath's a bitch. Either I'm flat-out empty, no mana left to fart with… or the limb I used gets completely wrecked. Useless. Dead weight. Sometimes both. It's power, sure—but the kind that leaves you wondering if it was worth it."
As Yuga finished, silence settled between him and Salina, a heavy pause that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Salina's expression remained unreadable as she absorbed his words, her gaze locked onto him with a mix of curiosity and contemplation. Finally, she smiled, her tone softening as she broke the silence.
"Thank you for your honesty," she said, her voice laced with a hint of warmth. "That explains why, when I examined you, I found no trace of magic left within your body. And, it also brings us to the bad news that I no longer have to deliver." Her smile faded slightly as she continued, her tone more serious now. "You understand, don't you? Your mana core is cracked."
Yuga's eyes widened in shock, confusion clouding his features. "What's a mana core?" he blurted out, his voice tinged with confusion.
Salina's reaction was immediate. She facepalmed, her frustration palpable as she let out an exasperated groan. "You don't know what a mana core is?! You've got to be kidding me!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief. "Oh gods… I'm going to lose my mind dealing with someone so adorably dumb." She sighed deeply, composing herself before continuing in a more measured tone.
"Alright, let me explain. Inside the body of every living organism, there exists something that acts as a heart or a brain for magic. For humanoids like us, it's a small, spherical organ, as hard as a mana crystal, though the size can vary from person to person. Think of it as a built-in healer that not only supports your body's functions but also serves as a reservoir of energy. To maintain a long, healthy life, humans—among other races—need food, water, sleep, and mana absorption. Those without mana cores are normal but lack the ability to use magic in any form. Now, with your mana core damaged, it's leaking magic into your body, like blood seeping from an open wound. This could lead to a myriad of complications, any of which could happen at any moment."
She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied Yuga's reaction. "To make it simple: if you use magic in any way, you could die from mana burn or magic poisoning, or your heart could simply stop. My advice to you is to never even think about using magic again."
Yuga's world seemed to crumble around him as the gravity of her words sank in. His fists clenched tightly, his body trembling with barely contained rage. He had come here seeking strength, seeking to overcome his previous failures, but now he was being told that the very power he had relied on could kill him. Tears welled up in his eyes, his vision blurring as he struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
Salina, seeing his distress, hesitated. Comfort was not her strong suit, and she wasn't sure how to handle the situation. She reached out, her hand hovering over his head, but she pulled back at the last second, unsure of how to proceed. Finally, she spoke in a gentler tone, trying to offer some form of reassurance.
"I want you to meet someone," she said, her voice softer now.
"I'm glad you came today because this was all part of my plan from the beginning. Follow me. And for what it's worth, I didn't lace the tea. You're free to move. I apologize for my lack of knowledge in the art of...reassurances, but I hope you understand that my intentions are good."
With that, Salina stood and motioned for Yuga to follow her. The two exited the cabin, and as they stepped outside, Salina snapped her fingers. The door behind them closed with a firm click, locking itself with a soft, magical hum. Yuga flinched slightly at the sound but kept his focus on Salina as they made their way to another cabin, just a short walk away. This was the same cabin Yuga had thrown a stone at earlier, shattering a window in the process. Salina knocked loudly on the door, the sound echoing through the quiet night.
They waited for what felt like an eternity, the minutes dragging on as nothing happened. Salina eventually sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration before turning away from the cabin. "Come on," she beckoned, and Yuga followed her without question.
Their journey continued, taking them across a river and up a massive hill. The trek lasted nearly an hour, the landscape around them gradually shifting from the familiar to the forgotten. They entered an abandoned village, the stone buildings crumbling and overtaken by nature. Time had not been kind to this place, and the forest seemed to encroach ever closer, reclaiming the land with each passing year. As night fell, the plants and trees around them began to glow, casting an eerie light that bathed the village in an otherworldly glow.
Salina finally came to a stop at the top of a hill, her voice tinged with weariness as she yawned. "Head straight for four minutes, and you should find him. He'll help you overcome the new problem you find yourself in. He's a good person, but a harsh teacher. My advice to you is simple: just don't die. That should be easy enough, no? Return here once you've introduced yourself."
Yuga, confused and a bit apprehensive, turned to face her as she began to walk away. "Wait! Who am I supposed to be meeting?" he called out, his voice laced with urgency.
Salina paused, her back to him as the wind picked up, causing her violet eyes to glow even more brightly in the darkening sky. A solemn smile tugged at her lips as she turned her head slightly, her voice carrying a hint of something ominous as she spoke the name.
"Kazutobi Nagata."
And with that, she vanished, the wind carrying her away like a whisper in the night. The petals from the nearby flowers swirled in the air, their ethereal glow reminiscent of fallen pieces of the moon, obscuring Yuga's view for a brief moment. When the air cleared, Salina was gone, leaving Yuga alone on the hill.
With no other choice, Yuga pressed on, his mind racing with thoughts of what awaited him. The night was just beginning, the sky caught in a battle between the sun and the moon, each vying for dominance. As he walked, he noticed the stars and comets dancing above, a breathtaking display of celestial beauty. But his attention was soon drawn to a deep, soothing voice humming a lullaby-like tune that seemed to emanate from the very earth beneath his feet.
The voice was soft, yet it carried a weight that made it impossible to ignore. The song grew louder with each step Yuga took, the words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. They made him smile.
"Oh lord, have you any yield? Don't you worry, I haven't forgotten my shield. If the drunk has paid, then the woman shall pray. Here we sway, and hear me sing. The chime of death now swings."
The song ended, leaving Yuga standing still in a field of pale white flowers, each as tall as a child. He spotted a man sitting on a stone, a large sword resting against a nearby boulder. The sheath was long and slightly curved, made of wood wrapped in rope, with countless scars and scratches marking its surface. The guard of the sword was a small, circular disk of metal adorned with intricate symbols, seemingly untouched by time or battle. The handle was wrapped in cloth, ending in a small metal cap, with a single bell attached to it—a bell that resembled those found in church towers.
The man was tall and broad-shouldered, his cloak flapping gently in the wind. His long hair touched the back of his neck, and his olive skin bore the same hue as Tomoki's. But it was the strange, winding tattoo along the side of his neck that caught Yuga's attention. He couldn't quite make out the details from a distance, but it was clear that the tattoo held some significance. Summoning his courage, Yuga called out over the roaring wind.
"ARE YOU KAZUTOBI? SALINA SENT ME! SHE SAID YOU COULD HELP ME BECAUSE MY MANA THING IS DAMAGED?"
The man's head lifted, a loud, annoyed groan escaping his lips as he scratched his head. He stood up, his cloak shaking in the wind as he addressed Yuga, his voice carrying a tone of weary exasperation.
"Tell me, do you know what's above us?" Yuga would cover his eyes as the wind grew louder and small droplets fell into his view. The man's voice grew even louder.
"You might think it's a sky full of stars, with the sun and moon in perfect harmony. But just as there are countless stars in the heavens, there are countless stories as well. A soul can be a star too, no?"
Kazutobi turned around, revealing his face fully to Yuga. His hair was long but thin, styled into a tough mane. A scar ran from his left eyebrow down to his cheek, and the tattoo on his neck, now clearer, resembled a winding river, entirely black and devoid of any detail. He wore simple black trousers, boots, and a cloak, with a V-neck shirt similar to the one Yuga wore, though Kazutobi's shirt had no strings to tighten the collar. His jawline was defined, covered in the beginnings of a beard. Bandages wrapped around his forearms, and a pair of bracelets adorned his right wrist. Another sword hung at his waist, its sheath a pale, ceramic white with a gold guard, contrasting sharply with the dark, woody brown of the sword still leaning against the boulder.
Kazutobi towered over Yuga, his height nearly matching Salina's, making the difference between them all the more imposing. His eyes, a bright golden hue reminiscent of both the sun and the moon, seemed to pierce through the darkness, giving him an almost animalistic quality. He reached for the sword on the boulder, sliding it into his belt before groaning in pain as he cracked his neck from side to side. With a swift motion, he drew the white blade from his waist and tossed it at Yuga, the sword landing with a heavy thud at his feet.
"Pick it up," Kazutobi ordered, his voice firm and unyielding. "In order to help you, I need to see if you're worth the time and effort."
Yuga didn't hesitate. He knew exactly what those words meant. Reaching down, he placed both hands on the sheath, pulling firmly until the slightly curved, pearl-colored blade emerged. The intricate, wavy pattern along the blade's surface entranced him for a moment before he snapped back to reality. He turned the blade over in his hands, marveling at its balance and craftsmanship. Taking a deep breath, Yuga swung the sword in a single, fluid motion, the blade slicing through the air with a resonant hum.
Kazutobi watched him closely, his expression unreadable. He raised his left arm to chest level, extending it fully with an open hand. In his right hand, he gripped his own sword firmly, his movements barely audible over the sound of the wind and distant thunder. He began to circle Yuga slowly, his footsteps almost imperceptible. With a quick flick of his wrist, Kazutobi brought the blade above his head, stopping in place as the two locked eyes, both wearing soft, confident smirks.
The wind howled around them, the distant thunder growing louder, and the grass swayed as if trying to filter out the impurities in their bodies. Kazutobi's voice cut through the storm, calm and steady.
"I am a living fire to lighten the darkness, leading out into the expanding universe. I am inextinguishable in the eyes of fate. As my flesh turns into a blistering conflagration, I am reminded that I am ETERNAL."
As Kazutobi's words hung in the air, a sudden bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, splitting the darkness with a searing flash. For an instant, the entire world was consumed by a blinding white light, freezing the two figures in a stark silhouette. The moment the light faded, plunging the world back into its shadowy gloom, both Yuga and Kazutobi surged forward. Their shouts pierced the air, the only sound amidst the howling wind, while the small bell on Yuga's sword rang out marking the beginning of their battle.