The moment the oath was sealed, I felt something shift—something tangible and undeniable. The air around us grew subtly heavier, as if an invisible pressure pressed against my skin and lungs. Each breath felt denser, thicker, carrying a faint metallic weight that hadn't been there before.
The Cursed Energy in the surroundings trembled softly. It wasn't wild or chaotic, but the vibration was clear enough to be noticed. It felt like a thin, unseen thread had been pulled tight between Mei Mei and me—an intangible tether that could not be touched, yet whose presence was cold, firm, and absolute. The Binding Vow had taken form. There would be no undoing it now.
"Good." I gave a slow nod. "Now we have an agreement."
My words sounded simple, almost casual, but the meaning behind them carried far more weight. Once a Binding Vow was established, there was no turning back. Breaking it wasn't merely difficult—it was unthinkable.
"But… why did you make an exception like that?" Mei Mei looked at me with a puzzled expression, her brows knitting slightly. There was no sharp suspicion in her voice, only genuine curiosity.
Hearing that, I fell silent for a moment. My thoughts turned quietly within my mind. Letting Mei Mei die just to keep my identity hidden felt strangely wrong. I knew full well that this world was cruel, insane, and unforgiving—a place where death could arrive without warning, without reason.
And yet, allowing someone I knew to be killed purely for my own safety left a bitter taste in my chest. It felt as though something inside me—some lingering fragment of principle—was pushing back against that cold calculation.
"Because you're still useful," I finally answered, my tone calm and flat. "Letting you die just to protect my identity would be foolish."
"Really?" Mei Mei tilted her head slightly. A faint smile curved along her lips, and her voice shifted into something teasing. "It's not because you like me? Because you don't want me to die?"
Damn. This girl really was skilled at toying with people. Every word that left her mouth sounded light and effortless, yet it always struck precisely at the most troublesome point. Hurry up and grow up, Mei Mei. If you did, and you teased me like this, I might not hold back. Ahem. No—forget that. Focus, Kenji.
"No," I replied shortly. "Didn't you say you were leaving? Why are you still here?"
My tone carried clear annoyance, deliberately cutting off the direction of the conversation.
Mei Mei only smiled faintly, seemingly not offended in the slightest. She turned around, her steps relaxed, as though the serious matter we had just concluded was nothing more than a casual chat. "Alright then, I'll be going. See you again, Shizuka, Rika… and boss."
As she said that, she glanced back at me, her smile turning teasing once more. "The man I cherish the most."
Her tone was obviously playful. And yet, for some reason, her expression seemed slightly different from usual. Not irritating, as it should have been—but… oddly cute. The thought annoyed me more than it should have.
"Yeah, whatever. Just go." I gave a brief nod, refusing to engage any further.
"See you again, Mei Mei." Shizuka finally stood up from the grass, brushing off her clothes as she offered a small smile.
"Thank you for the hand-to-hand combat training," Rika added politely, her voice sincere as she dipped her head.
"No problem." Mei Mei's smile widened. "See you all again."
She then walked away, following the narrow path that cut through the forest. Her figure gradually grew smaller, swallowed bit by bit by the towering trees, until she disappeared completely behind the dense foliage.
After she was truly gone, I let out a quiet breath, as if releasing the last remnants of tension lingering in the air. "Alright, let's go too. It's almost five."
The moment those words left my mouth, Shizuka and Rika jolted.
"Ah! Let's hurry back!" Shizuka said with a panicked expression. "I don't want Yukina scolding me again!"
"Right." I gave a small smile at her exaggerated reaction.
The three of us began walking out of the forest, retracing the same path we had taken before. The late afternoon sunlight slipped through the gaps between the trees, scattering golden rays across the ground and stretching our shadows into long, wavering shapes.
Leaves swayed gently in the breeze, their soft rustling accompanying our footsteps as we moved farther and farther from the training grounds, heading back toward the orphanage.
...
...
...
Time passed with unsettling speed, almost without leaving a trace. Before I realized it, a full week had gone by since my meeting with Mei Mei.
Seven days sounded short when counted, yet each second had been packed with grueling, relentless training, as if time itself had been compressed along with our bodies and minds.
Throughout that entire week, I trained Shizuka and Rika without granting them anything that could truly be called proper rest. Little by little, I refined their abilities the way steel is forged—heated, hammered, cooled, and then thrust back into the flames to be struck again.
I forced their bodies to adapt to ever-increasing pressure, and at the same time, I forced their minds not to collapse when their limits were pushed beyond what they thought they could endure.
As usual, every morning began before the sun had fully risen. The air was still cold, dew clung to the grass, and their breaths formed thin white mist in front of their faces.
But the chill of dawn was never an excuse for idleness. I made them run laps around the area surrounding the orphanage again and again, until their steps began to falter, their breathing turned ragged and harsh, and their chests felt as though they were burning from within.
When their legs started to feel as heavy as if dragged down by invisible weights, the training was far from over. Push-ups, squats, planks, and various endurance drills followed, layered with Cursed Energy pressure that I deliberately increased little by little.
That pressure clung to their bodies like an unseen burden, making every movement feel twice as heavy as it should have been.
Their muscles trembled under the strain, and sweat streamed down from their foreheads, soaking their clothes before dripping onto the ground that was gradually warming beneath the rising sun.
Even so, not a single complaint left their lips. Their gazes remained fixed straight ahead, filled with determination, jaws clenched tightly to endure the pain.
By midday, the training shifted to hand-to-hand combat. There were no weapons, no flashy techniques meant only to look impressive.
There were only direct strikes, instinctive defense, and the ability to read an opponent's movements within a fraction of a second. I taught them the basics of reading shoulder direction before a punch was thrown, of catching the slightest twitch in an arm muscle that signaled an incoming attack.
I showed them how to shift their center of gravity, how to lower their stance by half a step to avoid being easily thrown off balance, and how to exploit even the smallest opening—an opening that might exist for no more than a single breath.
I did not allow a single mistake to pass without consequence. I taught them to respond with real counterattacks, hard enough to leave deep purple bruises and throbbing aches that lingered long after the training ended, yet controlled enough to avoid permanent injury. The pain was a reminder, not a punishment.
Evening was the cruelest part of all. When their bodies were already exhausted, muscles heavy and minds beginning to lose focus, that was precisely when Cursed Energy control training began. To me, this was the core of everything. Without control, power would only turn into disaster.
They had to channel their energy without the slightest leakage, compress it without triggering wild eruptions, and maintain emotional stability while the energy surged within them like a violent current seeking an outlet.
Several times, stray sparks of energy lashed against the ground, leaving behind dark, charred marks. A faint burnt smell lingered in the air.
More than once, they lost control, and the backlash of their own energy struck their bodies, making their knees buckle or their breathing halt for a moment under the internal pressure.
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