The next morning came quietly.
The sun had barely risen above the mountains when the training grounds behind the Kaze home were already awake with movement.
Or rather—
With struggle.
Clack!
A wooden sword slipped from Kaito's hands and hit the ground.
He stood there, breathing unevenly.
His stance was wrong.
His grip was loose.
His shoulders were tense.
Across from him, Akira watched silently.
"Again," Akira said calmly.
Kaito picked the sword up.
He inhaled slowly, trying to center himself the way Akira had taught him countless times before.
Pulse flowed through his body.
At least—it tried to.
The rhythm was uneven.
His swing came out sloppy.
Akira stepped forward.
Clack!
Their swords met for barely a second before Kaito's balance collapsed and he stumbled backward across the grass.
Akira lowered his blade.
Kaito stared at the ground.
The wind passed quietly between them.
"Again," Akira repeated.
Kaito gritted his teeth and rushed forward.
His swing came faster this time.
But it was forced.
Predictable.
Akira sidestepped effortlessly and tapped Kaito lightly on the shoulder with the wooden sword.
"Dead."
Kaito froze.
His chest rose and fell quickly.
He tried again.
And again.
And again.
Every time—
The same result.
Missed strikes.
Broken rhythm.
Sloppy pulse control.
Finally, Kaito stepped back, frustration boiling over.
"Why—"
His voice cracked slightly.
"Why isn't it working?"
The wind brushed through the field.
Akira studied him quietly.
"You're fighting yourself."
Kaito looked up.
Akira walked closer.
"Your body is here," Akira said calmly, tapping Kaito lightly on the chest.
"But your mind is somewhere else."
Kaito looked away.
Akira didn't press further.
Instead, he turned slightly and raised one hand.
"Watch."
Kaito frowned.
Akira closed his eyes briefly.
His breathing slowed.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Then Kaito felt it.
Pulse.
It flowed through Akira like a quiet tide.
The air around his hand trembled.
A thin line of energy formed in his palm.
At first it looked like a ripple in the air.
Then it sharpened.
Condensed.
Solidified.
A blade of pale, shimmering pulse extended from his hand.
A Pulse Blade.
The wind around it hummed softly.
Kaito's eyes widened.
Akira opened his eyes.
"This is a Pulse Blade."
The blade flickered slightly as he moved it.
"It's formed by compressing your pulse into a stable shape."
Kaito stared at it in amazement.
"You can… make weapons out of pulse?"
Akira gave a faint smile.
"Pulse can become many things."
He dismissed the blade with a small motion.
The energy dissolved into the air like mist.
Then he looked at Kaito.
"Try."
Kaito blinked.
"Me?"
"Yes."
Kaito hesitated.
But he raised his hand anyway.
He closed his eyes.
Focus…
He tried to steady his breathing.
Pulse flowed through his body.
He pushed it into his palm.
The air trembled.
A thin glow appeared.
For a brief moment—
A blade began to form.
Then—
Pfft.
The energy scattered like dust.
The blade collapsed instantly.
Kaito opened his eyes.
"…What?"
Akira said nothing.
Kaito tried again.
Pulse gathered in his hand.
The shape started forming—
Then burst apart again.
He clenched his teeth.
"Again."
Pulse gathered.
The blade appeared for half a second—
Then dissolved.
Kaito's frustration began to show.
"Why won't it stay?!"
Akira stepped closer.
"Because you're forcing it."
Kaito shook his head.
"I'm not—"
"You are."
Akira's voice was calm but firm.
"Your pulse is unstable."
Kaito looked down at his hand.
Akira continued.
"You're not focusing on the blade."
He paused.
"You're thinking about Ren."
Kaito froze.
The wind moved softly across the grass.
Akira's gaze softened slightly.
"There is no shame in falling behind someone strong."
Kaito said nothing.
His fists tightened.
Akira placed a hand on his shoulder.
"But there is shame in letting it break you."
Kaito's eyes trembled slightly.
"I'm not broken."
Akira looked at him quietly.
Kaito looked away.
"…He's already a Master."
The words came out quietly.
Akira didn't interrupt.
Kaito stared at the ground.
"We're the same age."
His voice was low.
"I can't even imagine how strong he is now."
The wind rustled through the trees.
For a long moment—
Neither of them spoke.
Then Akira said softly,
"Kaito."
Kaito looked up.
"Strength isn't measured by how fast someone rises."
Akira gestured toward Kaito's chest.
"It's measured by whether you keep moving forward."
Kaito stared at his hand again.
"…Then why does it feel like I'm standing still?"
Akira smiled faintly.
"Because you're looking too far ahead."
He stepped back.
"Now."
Akira raised his hand slightly.
"Try again."
Kaito inhaled slowly.
The wind brushed against his face.
He focused on his pulse.
Not Ren.
Not the distance between them.
Just—
The rhythm.
Pulse flowed into his palm.
The air shimmered again.
A blade began to form.
It lasted slightly longer this time.
But still—
It shattered into light.
Kaito lowered his hand.
His breathing was heavy.
Akira nodded slightly.
"Better."
Kaito blinked.
"…It was?"
"Yes."
Akira picked up the fallen wooden sword and handed it back to him.
"We'll keep working."
Kaito took the sword.
His grip was still shaky.
But he raised it anyway.
The wind moved quietly across the training field.
And training began again.
Meanwhile — Water Clan.
A wide, open training field stretched beneath the pale blue sky. Dozens of Water Clan master stood in formation, surrounding a single figure at the center — Ren.
His breathing was calm. Controlled. Focused.
Across from him stood several masters, ready to test the strength of the youngest prodigy in the clan's history.
The ground stilled.
Then, Ren raised his right hand, palm open.
A deep, hollow hum filled the air as pulse gathered in his core, pulsing through his veins, channeling into his arm.
In a flash, water burst forth from his palm, swirling rapidly in the air, spiraling faster and faster. It wasn't drawn from the lake. It didn't fall from the sky. It came from him — born of raw essence, shaped by mastery.
The air shook.
The swirling mass expanded, compressed, twisted—
"Water Technique: Dragon Vortex!" Ren declared.
From his palm, a towering dragon made of water erupted into the sky, its body spiraling like a cyclone, its jaws opening wide. Its scales shimmered with layered technique, precision, and cold intent.
The dragon surged forward, roaring, and slammed into the gathered masters like a tidal god.
The ground shattered. Stone cracked. Water exploded outward in violent waves. The protective barriers raised by the masters shattered one by one, splintered like thin ice.
The impact sent bodies flying, the terrain warping under the force.
When the steam settled, the entire field was drenched. Craters smoked. Several masters lay on the ground, breathing heavily, stunned, defeated.
And at the center—Ren stood alone, palm still slightly extended, steam drifting from his fingers.
From the side of the wrecked field, a figure stepped forward.
An older man with a scar cut down his cheek,blue-streaked hair, and a staff in his hand.
His presence was sharp, posture straight, expression severe — a master of the old ways. His cloak fluttered behind him, soaked slightly by the aftermath, but his gaze remained fixed on the boy.
"That was beautiful," the man said, his tone low and unwavering. "Your control has become flawless."
Ren turned to him and gave a respectful nod. "Thank you, Master Akimitsu."
Akimitsu stepped closer, surveying the damaged arena, then the fallen warriors. "And your technique... it matured. The Dragon Vortex didn't waver, not even once during impact."
Ren allowed a small breath. "I've had your guidance to thank for that."
A pause. Then Akimitsu nodded. "You've surpassed many senior masters of the clan, and you're 6. At this rate, you'll evolve into a True being in no time. After that... even I won't be able to match you."
Ren didn't smile, but his voice held a trace of something — determination, maybe. "If I stop pushing myself now, I'll fall short. I still have much to learn."
"Good." Akimitsu voice turned steel-like. "Complacency is the first sign of weakness."
The two stared across the broken field. Warriors still lay recovering. The earth itself had been reshaped. Akimitsu's eyes narrowed.
"You held back," he said plainly.
Ren hesitated. Then replied, "If I hadn't… they wouldn't walk away."
Akimitsu exhaled through his nose, folding his arms. "Ren, listen carefully. We of the Water Clan do not fight to show mercy. We fight to preserve order. To enforce law. Our enemies do not hesitate. Criminals will not beg. When the moment comes — when the world is at its worst — you don't hesitate either."
"I know," Ren said. "But this wasn't war. It was training."
The master stepped closer. "Our clan was founded on one principle: Absolute Justice. No forgiveness for crimes, no tolerance for chaos. That is the law we carry in us. One day, you'll carry it more purely than any of us."
Ren didn't respond immediately. His palm flexed, a faint glimmer of water forming again, responding to his will like an extension of himself.
"I won't fail that principle," he finally said. "I'll become strong enough to erase evil completely."
The master studied him one last time. Not with affection — but with expectation.
"Then continue," he said. "Refine your power. Cleanse your heart of hesitation. The world doesn't just need kindness. It needs order."
And with that, the wind brushed past them, carrying mist and silence across the ruined field.
Not too far away
Naoki stood watching Ren from the distance, arms crossed. By his side, a cloaked man stood silently — his face hidden in shadow.
The man spoke first, voice smooth and ancient. "Your son... is gifted. He may even surpass you."
Naoki remained still. "He takes after his mother."
"Kairi, huh?" the man murmured. "She truly was one of a kind. Too bad she's not here to see how powerful her son has become."
"Yeah..." Naoki whispered.
There was a long pause. Then the cloaked figure continued, "Are you prepared for what's coming?"
Naoki's gaze sharpened. "I've always been ready."
"Good. That's what we expect from you."
"All that's left is to be patient and wait for the perfect time to carry out our plan."
A slight chuckle. "This time, the Origin core will be ours. No mistakes."
Naoki's lips curled faintly. "We will."
As the man turned and walked away, Naoki whispered under his breath, eyes locked on Ren far below.
"Don't worry. We'll achieve our goal. No matter the cost."
Back at the Wind Village.
In one of the wind training grounds.
A whirlwind tore through the sky as Toru ducked beneath Hana's slicing gust. He leapt upward, spun, and countered with a spiraling gale of his own. Hana blocked it with a flick of her wrist, dispersing it like smoke.
"Hah! You're slowing down," Hana teased mid-battle.
Toru grinned. "Nah—I'm just distracted by how beautiful you look while kicking my butt."
"Focus!" she smirked, launching a pulse of wind that knocked him back several feet.
Toru rolled forward, the earth cracking beneath his hands as he propelled himself to close the distance. He surged toward Hana in a blur, fists flying faster than the eye could follow.
They clashed fist to fist—punches landing with thunderous force, each blow creating shockwaves that shattered the ground beneath them. Their movements were a dazzling storm of motion, blurring past the eye with godlike speed, dodging and weaving at light-speed.
Hana's palm struck like a meteor crashing through the sky, sending Toru staggering. He countered with an elbow strike that smashed into her ribs, forcing a grunt from her lips.
They grappled, muscles straining, each trying to overpower the other. Hana twisted, breaking free and delivering a spinning backfist that cracked the air like a whip.
Toru blocked it just in time, their fists colliding in a blinding flash of energy—like two thunderclaps crashing simultaneously. The shockwave roared outward, toppling trees and cracking stone.
Breathing heavily but unyielding, they leapt apart.
The air thickened as they summoned their wind powers.
Hana's eyes narrowed as she shaped a spiraling blade of razor wind in her palm, humming with lethal pulse. Toru's arms glowed with a fierce gale, slicing through the air like a storm unleashed.
As their powers surged forward, the two forces slammed into each other with an earth-shattering explosion—a sonic boom that ripped through the sky, sending shockwaves crashing over the training grounds.
Kaito and Hina, watching wide-eyed, instinctively flinched as the shockwave thundered toward them.
Almost without thinking, both Hana and Toru instinctively summoned twin layers of protective wind barrier around the children—one encasing the other. They didn't look, didn't move, yet their pulse surged with parental precision, forming invisible but unbreakable barriers around Kaito and Hina.
The first dome absorbed the brunt of the raw force, rippling like a giant bubble buffeted by a storm. The second dome reinforced it, holding firm against debris, dust, and the crushing pressure of the blast.
Inside the safe haven, Kaito and Hina gasped, their hair whipping but their bodies untouched.
Outside, the air shimmered with residual energy as the clashing winds finally settled.
Toru staggered but caught himself, chest rising and falling fast.
With a sudden burst, Hana propelled herself forward with the force of a gale, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Her fists flew again—compressed air crackling around each strike, delivering the impact of collapsing mountains.
Toru barely managed to raise his arms, blocking and parrying, but the sheer speed and strength of Hana's assault pushed him backward.
He lunged to grab her, but Hana twisted midair, delivering a powerful spinning kick that slammed into his ribs with a force that rattled his breath.
Toru grunted, staggering, but countered with a massive overhead palm strike charged with gale energy. Hana dodged by an inch, feeling the air compress fiercely where his hand had been.
They clashed again in a blur—fists pounding, bodies weaving with impossible speed.
Finally, Hana caught Toru off guard. With a swift step inside his guard, she grabbed his wrists, twisting and throwing him down hard onto the ground.
Before he could react, Hana pinned him—one hand pressed firmly against his chest, the other gripping his shoulder, her eyes burning with fierce determination.
Toru's breath hitched, trapped under her weight and the invisible pressure of swirling wind holding him in place.
"I win," Hana said softly but firmly, a victorious smile breaking through.
Toru's lips curved into a tired grin. "Okay, okay… you win."
The protective domes dissolved in the wind. The moment the air cleared, Kaito jumped to his feet, eyes sparkling.
"That was amazing!" he yelled, running toward them. "Mom, you're so strong! You were like—boom, crack, and then—bam! You're the coolest ever!"
Hana turned, still catching her breath, her expression softening as she saw his beaming face.
She knelt down and scooped him into her arms, pulling him into a tight hug, cheek pressed against his.
"Thank you, sweet boy," she smiled, swaying with him gently in her arms.
Kaito laughed loudly. "Mom! You're squishing my face!"
Toru groaned dramatically as he stood, brushing dust from his robes. Then he walked over and picked up Hina, who had her arms raised toward him with glee.
"Don't worry, little one. Daddy will train you too. You'll be strong like us one day."
Hina giggled. "I wanna fly like you!"
The four of them stood together beneath the golden sky, wind brushing softly through the trees—peaceful now, after the storm.
Kaito looked up, eyes wide and bright, heart full of wonder but steady with resolve.
One day, I'll be even stronger than all of you.