Months passed in the Kingdom of Eldoria.
What began as simple training turned into disciplined routine. Every morning, Ace trained under Amagi's watchful eye, refining Shark's Fin until its movements felt natural—like water flowing through stone. His transitions became smoother, his strikes sharper, his breathing controlled.
He had even begun blending low‑percentage spell bursts into his movement—using only 5% or 8% output to enhance speed without exhausting himself.
The citizens of Eldoria respected him now. He was no longer just a guest.
But despite the growth, something felt incomplete.
One evening, standing beneath Eldoria's lantern-lit sky, Ace made his decision.
"I need to return," he told Amagi. "It's been months. I have to see Vargan and Darian."
Amagi nodded. "A warrior who forgets his roots loses his balance."
Isami walked him to the gates the next morning. She didn't try to stop him.
"Come back safely," she said softly.
Ace smiled. "I will."
---
The forest welcomed him with silence.
Too much silence.
The wind felt heavier. The air colder.
Ace's steps quickened.
When he reached Vargan's home, the door was broken.
The ground outside was scarred—burn marks, deep cuts in the earth, signs of a violent battle.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
"Ace…"
The voice didn't come.
Instead, he stepped forward—and froze.
Vargan was there.
On his knees.
His body upright only because both his sword and Darian's sword were planted firmly into the ground in front of him, crossing like silent guardians. His hands still gripped the hilts.
His head was lowered.
As if he had refused to fall.
As if even in death, he remained standing.
Ace's vision blurred.
"No…"
He rushed forward, dropping to his knees. Vargan's body was cold.
There were wounds across his armor—deep, brutal—but his expression was calm.
He had fought to the end.
Ace clenched his fists, his entire body trembling.
"Darian…" he whispered desperately.
There was no answer.
The forest gave him nothing.
Only silence.
For the first time since he began his journey, Ace felt something heavier than exhaustion.
Loss.
And deep within him, something began to burn—not wild like before.
But controlled.
Focused.
Whoever did this…
Would face a different Ace.