Sora's group had indeed started to spread their terror, slowly but surely advancing towards the city center. Within days, it was certain that every corner of the city would fall under their control.
This evil had to be stopped, but Yamile and Zhao, the only ones capable of fighting back, were still undergoing intense training. Their training demanded total focus, undeterred by the risk of serious injuries.
That's what Zhao was doing—training with Tora in the field where they had previously battled.
During the training, Tora gave only one instruction.
"Attack me with the intent to kill. Only then will you grow stronger and learn to master the black sword."
Zhao closed his eyes briefly, regulating his breath amid the cold morning wind. Beads of sweat dripped down his temple despite the biting air. He stared sharply at Tora, gripping the black sword he inherited from Yamile, which had begun to react to the intent in his heart.
"I would rather not harbor the thought of killing," Zhao said softly but clearly.
Tora smirked. "That's precisely why you're weak."
In an instant, Tora dashed forward. His movement was nearly invisible, forcing Zhao to twist and block the attack coming from the side. Tora's mace came swinging toward Zhao's head.
The clash of metal sparked a small explosion, and Zhao was thrown back several steps. Tora held nothing back—he never intended to teach gently. He knew the only way Zhao could match his power was to abandon all hesitation.
"You're still thinking about others while you fight. That's a fatal mistake!" Tora shouted as he launched another attack.
Zhao dodged and blocked a blow from above. His knees bent, and his body trembled under the weight of Tora's immense strength.
"But I'm not a killer!" Zhao shouted back.
"Then Sora will destroy everything—including you, Yamile, and all the people of East City."
Zhao felt the force of those words piercing his heart. Images of Yamile, Biacca, and Marten flashed through his mind. He refused to let another tragedy like Marten's happen again.
Zhao roared. Black energy from his sword began to swirl around him, forming a dense aura that compressed the surrounding air. Tora stepped back slightly, eyes gleaming.
"There it is… Feel the power!"
Zhao surged forward, now faster than before. His attacks were sharper, more precise. The black sword no longer trembled in his hand but moved as one with his body. Tora blocked with his massive mace, but for the first time, he was pushed backward.
"Good. But don't stop!"
Zhao unleashed a flurry of strikes, giving Tora no opening. Each slash carried strong intent—not to kill his friend, but to fight for salvation. He began to understand what Tora meant—that a "killing intent" was not about hatred, but about unwavering resolve and commitment.
Finally, Tora raised his hand. "Enough."
Zhao stopped, panting. The black sword glowed faintly before dimming. "I… can control it?"
Tora nodded. "You've improved. But this feat is only the beginning. The demon power within that sword will keep trying to consume you."
Zhao looked at his sword. In its reflection, he saw his face.
"Try training on your own. Try to control the sword's power. Slash and cut that tree over there," said Tora, pointing to a tree at the edge of the training field.
---
Meanwhile, Yamile was training with Uncle Marco in a different location. They ventured into the forest toward a waterfall. It was there that Yamile would attempt to awaken the power of Niroki.
They pushed through dewy bushes as the sound of crunching leaves and birdsong accompanied them from a distance, as if blessing their journey.
Uncle Marco led the way with steady steps, using his wooden staff to clear branches and tall grass from the path. Yamile, her hair tied up and wearing dark training clothes, followed silently, knowing the training ahead would be anything but straightforward.
"This place holds ancient energy," Marco whispered, as if afraid to disturb the forest's peace. "Our ancestors used to purify themselves under this waterfall. The water isn't just water—it holds spiritual energy that can merge with your body if you're ready."
Yamile nodded. "Can Niroki's power awaken just by soaking in the water?"
"No," Marco replied, stopping at a small slope. "The water is only a gateway. What you must truly face is the shadow within yourself. Niroki won't awaken in a fragile body. She demands belief and sacrifice."
"But before you begin, there's one thing you need to know," Marco said seriously.
Yamile listened intently. "What is it, uncle?"
"Niroki is a demon queen of the seas. Every being in the ocean bows to her. Her power is special—it can't be duplicated like the others."
"What do you mean?" Yamile asked, confused.
"Do you remember the demons Kalanak and Poccog? Their powers can be resurrected again and again. As long as people die, their powers will exist. That's because Kalanak and Poccog are spirits rejected by the afterlife."
Yamile stopped walking, stunned by this revelation. "That means the people who committed suicide yesterday…"
"Yes. Their souls will never rest," Marco answered softly.
Sadness filled Yamile's heart. She remembered Marten. "Bastards…" she muttered.
She steadied herself and resumed walking toward the waterfall, determined to grow stronger and put an end to the demons' wickedness.
They finally arrived at the waterfall's edge. The place looked otherworldly—surrounded by moss-covered stones, towering trees blocking out the sky, and golden rays of sunlight piercing through the leaves. The roar of the falling water was powerful, yet oddly calming.
Yamile gazed at the cascade. Beneath it, the natural pool gleamed a soothing shade of blue. She stepped closer and placed her palm on the water's surface.
"This water… it vibrates," Yamile said.
"That's a sign the spirits of nature accept you," Marco replied.
"Enter the water. Sit beneath the waterfall. Feel the chill hit your body. Let your heart find peace."
Yamile removed her outer robe, revealing her thin training outfit, and slowly stepped into the pool. Despite the freezing, bone-cracking water, she persevered. Her steps were steady until she sat beneath the falling water. Its roar echoed above her, making her body tremble.
She closed her eyes. Her body shivered, but her mind began to calm. Then, suddenly, she felt herself enter another realm. In front of her stood a beautiful woman in all green, with a majestic crown on her head.
"So you wish to form a pact with me?" the woman asked, half-mocking.
"You're Niroki! You're so beautiful… Are you a model?" said Yamile, immediately approaching Niroki and inspecting her from head to toe.
Hello, you can support me on patreon.com/Ikazaaa, as well as reading many chapters before it's released to the public!