The arena was filled with warriors intent on training, as always. The stone tatami housed people from every guild, some wearing glittering, colourful armor, others less flashy.

The gates in the stone walls that allowed access to the arena still seemed to lack a guardian. Yoichi entered without being stopped by anyone and, keeping a low profile, walked sideways, following the perimeter of the walls.

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He passed behind the peach trees, keeping away from the other groups of warriors with their guild leaders. The sun was still shining high in the sky, and those hours were too valuable to waste.

Yoichi knew he had to devote every spare moment to practice the new skills he learned from Nobunaga because he didn't know if he would have a second chance against the supreme dragon if he failed.

During his first and last talk with Therion, the Dragon King had forcibly stopped the vision, preventing Yoichi from asking him any more questions. The young warrior would have liked to ask his mentor more information about his next enemy, if it was possible to use Kenji's powers freely and if there was a way to carry the Tear outside the Dojo.

In truth, within himself, Yoichi already knew the answer to the last question. From Ryutaro's first explanations, he learned that the Tear itself was imbued with arcane power, not its container. Whether it was contained in that stone basin or a glass cup, it should have made no difference.

Until recently, his mind had been as agitated as a raging river and was now as calm as the surface of a pond protected by trees. His level of concentration was gradually increasing and, even when he was not in a meditative state, he was able to concentrate all his energies on a single element, increasing his power.

How many strong warriors are here. What is the reason that drives all these people to train every day? The money they get once a week? The fame? Do they aspire to fight at the front and conquer the Nomi Islands, thus honoring the Emperor's name? He pondered, unable to answer all those questions.

Finally, after searching for several minutes, Yoichi found a quiet and peaceful spot where he could practice Nobunaga's moves to improve his hand-to-hand fighting style.

He left his bags near one of the peach trees and, not too far from the stone tatami, he took a deep breath, getting ready to begin.

There seemed to be no warriors of the Emperor's Heralds in his vicinity, always ready to annoy others and bully the weaker ones. One movement after another, Yoichi assumed the fighting stance and began to move sinuously, imitating what had happened during the morning on the beach east of Goldhaven.

The determined young tamer spent about two hours in that precise spot, among the trees and the large tatami, occupied by other warriors. He tried and tried Nobunaga's moves hundreds of times again until he felt the lactic acid flowing in the muscles of his arms and legs.

His commitment was so constant that the grass beneath his feet was consumed only in a few places, slightly lifting clods of earth. Hit, dodge, and hit again. Crouch, get back up and hit harder.

Nobunaga's fighting style was unbeatable but straightforward if executed without errors. With a little practice, in just two days, he would perfect it and apply it to his next fight.

Yoichi interrupted his intensive training as the afternoon sun began to hide behind the arena's stone walls shyly. He tied up his hair and wiped the sweat on his forehead, continuing to think about those movements as if he wanted to make them automatic.

However, perfecting close combat was not enough. If he really wanted to defeat one of the legendary dragons capable of slaughtering ancient demons in the Lumya of the past, he would have to get more information about it.

Suddenly, he flipped through the titles of the books in Ryutaro's room between the pages of his memories. 'Dragon Demons of Lumya' - that was the book right for him. Yoichi recalled that Ryutaro used that ancient tome to illustrate for him the pictures depicting Therion.

In addition to the Dragon King, the book contained information about hundreds of other dragons other than Therion. That information was probably incomplete or incorrect, but it was certainly better than nothing.

Rolling up his sleeves and picking up his stuff from the ground, Yoichi approached the area behind the Dojo. In a well-kept garden, next to a large fountain, the warriors who frequented that sacred place were allowed to wash away the sweat and fatigue of training.

A statue in the shape of a pillar, consisting of a large stone cylinder with holes, let out fresh and clear water, which then fell into a large stone container.

Two men were intent on rinsing their faces, and a woman had dipped her head and hair into the water, washing away the impurities.

This is the closest thing to a shower I can find for the moment. I don't have time to get to the Nightblades tower and take a bath. This will have to do, Yoichi thought, dipping his hands into the water from the fountain and starting to wash his face.

The dirty water that dripped from the young warrior's chin and hair fell back into the fountain, carrying dust and sweat with it. Through an articulated system of fissures at the bottom of the rock, the liquid was reabsorbed and a sort of filter cleaned it of impurities.

These cyclical and efficient operations ensured that the water was always clean and fresh despite hundreds of people using it every day to wash.

The water on Yoichi's face and arms dried, and the fatigue of training began to weigh on his shoulders. Dragging his feet towards the Dojo, looking forward to leafing through that ancient book, Yoichi passed the door watched over by the two majestic golden tigers.

By now, the young tamer had become so accustomed to some of the Dojo's regular visitors that he recognized their faces. He left his boots at the entrance and headed for his room, while in the outside world, light was gradually replaced by darkness.