The sun crested over the rolling hills as Kael tightened the strap on his travel satchel. The soft hum of mana in the air was sharper in the early morning—cleaner, more vibrant. He could feel his core pulsing in rhythm with it, stronger than before. Stage four was just within reach, but this journey wasn't about rushing. It was about building their foundation.
Samuel cracked his knuckles beside him, his massive frame casting a wide shadow across the dirt road. "So, we're really going out there. Beyond the ridge."
"Beyond the ridge is where growth begins," Mike said, his sword tied to his back with cloth bindings. "And danger too. We stay close, never split up. Agreed?"
Kael nodded. "Agreed."
They were joined by two others: Yana, a quiet girl who had shown surprising talent in movement techniques, and Brin, a lean boy with quick reflexes and sharper eyes. The five of them were among the few who had completed the initial three stages of Body Refinement.
As they stepped into the forest path, the canopy swallowed the light behind them. Birds scattered. Mana stirred. The forest of Emberleaf was not a place of comfort.
---
For three days, they trained.
Kael and Mike sparred daily. Mike taught him balance, pressure points, and how to measure distance with a glance. "A sword isn't about strength. It's about rhythm. Feel the opponent. Respond, don't predict."
Kael listened, applied, stumbled—and improved.
By the fifth day, he could parry three blows without flinching. By the seventh, he held his own for ten full exchanges.
But then came the storm.
It rolled in without warning—thunder cracking, winds spiraling. And with it, something stirred in the earth.
"Movement. Ten o'clock," Brin whispered.
A shadow lunged from the underbrush. Long limbs, crystalline claws, glowing eyes.
"Spirit Beast!" Samuel shouted.
The battle was chaos. Yana distracted it with agile footwork. Mike slashed through brambles to create space. Kael drew his sword relic, and for the first time, it responded.
A symbol glowed faintly along its edge. The beast lunged. Kael sidestepped, pivoted, and slashed—the blade hummed with force, and the creature yelped, staggering back.
More symbols surfaced. The sword pulsed.
"First seal," it whispered. Only Kael heard it.
The group finally drove the beast off, but not without injury. Brin's arm was clawed. Samuel had bruised ribs.
"We need shelter," Mike growled.
---
That night, Kael stared at the sword, cradled across his lap. It was no ordinary weapon. It had a will.
"Why choose me?" he muttered.
The blade vibrated faintly. A warmth surged from its core.
"Not choice," it seemed to say. "Recognition."
Somewhere beyond the ridgeline, hidden eyes watched them through a scrying crystal.
And far to the east, Ryn knelt before a masked figure in a chamber of shadow and smoke. Illusions danced across the walls—Kael laughing, Kael building, Kael *mocking.*
"Do you understand now?" the figure asked.
Ryn's fists trembled. "Yes. He took everything."
"Good. We will teach you to take it back."