The immortal’s name wasn’t always Kokuri.

Inside the sanctum’s training ground, Ignes pressed her foot on the grass; and stepped back. She had dodged Ray’s horizontal slash with that maneuver, but then lost her balance, stumbled, and fell to the ground.

Ray took this opportunity and thrusted his wooden sword at Ignes’s throat, stopping the blade right before hitting. The standings were clear: Ignes was the defeated and Ray was the victor. After having suffered so many losses in the spar against Ignes, Ray finally earned himself a win. However, he was hardly proud of his achievement.

‘Congratulations,’ Ignes said with a smile, admitting defeat. The sanctum’s head didn’t mind being defeated by her allies; and enjoyed seeing people’s growth.

Ray retracted his sword and glanced at the bandages wrapping Ignes’s head. I didn’t defeat her.

Because of the wound Ignes had sustained from Freya from the duel, her movement during the spar with him was sluggish. The Ignes whom Ray had finally defeated wasn’t the same Ignes who had continuously defeated him.

‘You should be proud of your victory,’ Ignes encouraged. She stretched her hand, asking for help in standing up.

‘How could I be?’ Ray grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

In the spar, Ignes had delivered the same sequence she had used on Freya; and all Ray did was copy the method to deal with the sequence: by grabbing her hand with his freehand to shift the trajectory. Freya had made it look easy to accomplish, since she did it twice in a row, but Ray knew that it was a move of high difficulty. A tiny margin of mistiming could mean failure; and be heavily punishable. Ray was simply lucky that he managed to grasp Ignes’s hand in the spar. It wasn’t a feat that he was sure could repeat.

‘It didn’t feel like my victory,’ Ray said. I’m still weak.

‘You might feel that it wasn’t,’ Ignes said whilst she dusted dirt off her white uniform with her hands, ‘but not everyone could copy that move like you did. You learn fast, Ray. That was your victory.’

‘Had we both sparred in our best condition, I would have lost.’

‘That would be true, but I had accepted the spar despite my condition. Once the fight has been agreed, the result is what matters.’ She spoke the latter with a hint of reluctance.

Ray was not convinced. What was he supposed to do? Hope on luck for every battle he would face? I can’t rely on that.

‘… I suppose, for you to recognize your victory, a reward is necessary, isn’t it?’

‘Reward?’ Ray asked. The word got his attention.

‘You’ve shown me your capability for growing; and I believe I could share with you what Dunnford wanted: the attack that bypasses his invulnerability.’

Ray might look calm outside, but inside his heart thumped with excitement. He was finally about to find out the answer he had sought.

‘You earned the right to know, Ray. Remember that.’

‘I will.’ Ray was impatient. ‘How to do the attack?’

‘The method… will have to wait until Dunnford comes back.’ Ignes chuckled upon looking at Ray's expectations jumping high then falling low. ‘I do not want to repeat myself; and I believe he too had earned the right to know.’

Ray felt a trickle of rain on his shoulder. He looked up toward the sky and saw the clouds running away. The skystorm was approaching.

‘Let’s head inside,’ Ignes suggested.

As they ran, Ray wished for Dunnford’s immediate return.

***

It was dark outside; and the rain was picking up its pace.

Inside the sanctum’s hall, Ray was distributing towels for Lune citizens who had taken refuge from the storm. The skystorm had been growing evermore violent and they weren’t confident in the safety of their own houses.

Having given away the last towel he was carrying, Ray had to restock. He stepped outside the hall, into the hallway, and saw Ignes talking with a Zenist. He did not mean to eavesdrop, but he caught their conversation.

‘… the Stormpiercer was forced to set off into the skystorm,’ Ignes said, ‘and to prevent losing the ship, some got on board to gain control, is my understanding correct?’

‘Yes,’ answered the Zenist.

‘Who got on board?’

‘The new sword saint, Vod, …’ The new sword saint? Ray thought, surprised. Freya? What is she doing?

‘Zenia protects them all…’ Ignes muttered. From afar, Ray could see her anguished and worried expression. Having heard and seen enough, and not being able to do anything about Freya’s situation, Ray went away to grab more towels.

She would be fine, he thought.

***

Swish!

Ray unleashed a vertical slash onto empty air with a wooden blade.

The girl whom he showed it to, a child whose father had gone to grab bowls of soup the sanctum was sharing, was still sobbing. Ray thought that his sword work might be a spectacle that could ease her fear of the storm outside, but he wasn’t successful in cheering her.

What else… he thought, searching in his mind for a method to cheer the girl.

Nearby, Ray heard splashing footsteps. He turned, startled at the sight of a soaked young woman whose face was hidden under her blue long-wet hair. The girl’s sobbing was now replaced with shivering terror.

Through the gap of her hair, she glanced at the girl.

She began raising her staff with a gloved hand and began chanting, which served only to scare the girl further. As the water began seeping out of her clothes and hair in tiny droplets which collected into a floating blob of water, the girl’s terror began to turn into fascination.

Once she was dry, she began weaving her staff and the water began to solidify to white, into snow. She placed the snow beside her and began creating three stacks of spheres, a snowman the size of the girl. The girl opened her mouth in awe. Her fear of the storm was no longer there.

Right at that moment, the girl’s father, who held two bowls of soup in his hands, called for her. She nodded at the magician with a smile; then ran to her father. From the distance, Ray could hear the girl’s excitement as she explained what she just saw to her father.

This too, is a type of strength, Ray thought.

The magician finally set her air aside and tucked them on her ears. She had tired eyes with dark circles under.

‘Where’s Dunnford?’ Ray asked.

‘He hasn’t returned?’ Elaine asked back.

‘Weren’t you with him?’

‘Can you not… question my question?’

‘You started it.’ She looks tired—but still could pick a fight. Great… ‘If anyone is questioning questions, it’s you.’

‘I don’t know where he is, that’s why I asked.’

‘Alright, he hasn’t returned. Now, weren’t you with him?’

‘We split. Someone screamed in the alleyway, everyone except me went toward the source, I was told to figure out an Extinct Formulae Magic. But there were distractions; and I’m too tired to think. I need sleep.’ A delicious smell wafted in the air. ‘Is that… soup?’ Elaine didn’t wait for Ray’s answer and immediately walked away.

First was the ship, now the alleyway? Ray wondered what was happening.

***

PRANG!

One of the sanctum’s stained-glass shattered to pieces; and the rain entered through. There were many refugees in the hall, but because the glass shards were received by the statue of Zeni, no one was harmed. However, worries began to grow.

The storm’s violence was peaking.

‘Even the sanctum’s strong glass is broken…’ uttered a refugee.

‘What will be of my house?’ worried another.

Ray was powerless to get rid of their unease. If anything were calming them down, it would be the sight of Elaine who still slept despite the loud shatter which had occurred. Should I be concerned for her…? She was sleeping peacefully like a corpse.

Outside, Ray could hear a commotion brewing.

Curious, he stepped into the hallway, and two people went past him: Brig with Dunnford on her shoulders. They went by rather fast; and Ray thought he was seeing things, but the blood on the floor confirmed it. Dunnford bled?

‘Ray!’ Ignes called from the hallway. ‘Good timing. You’re helping me treat Dunnford.’

***

‘When his spear hit me…’ Dunnford uttered weakly as Ray was bandaging his wounds. ‘My invulnerability didn’t work.’

‘Keep talking,’ Ignes ordered as she prepared needles to stitch Dunnford’s wounds. Lying on the sanctum’s bed, he was pale from blood loss. The wounds were shallow, but the amount was concerning.

‘What… was that…? How did he get through… my invulnerability?’

‘… Are you familiar with mana?’ Ignes asked calmly. She could have answered his questions, but she would prefer Dunnford being the one to speak. Inside that room there were only Dunnford, Ray, and Ignes.

Magic stamina? Ray thought.

‘It’s what you use… for magic…’ Dunnford answered. ‘You convert mana into… magic.’

‘Have you ever heard of mana manipulation?’

‘I’ve only heard that it was… impractical.’

Ray had heard of mana manipulation before. He had heard that it was dangerous. There wasn’t much theory about mana, for it was rarely researched about, but some speculated that it was a form of life force. A misstep in manipulating mana could prove fatal and result in death.

Magicians such as Elaine, often stayed clear from researching about mana. Magic manipulation was something which magicians could understand, for it was certain, reliable, and repeatable when done under the same conditions; be it with formulas or chanting or imagination. Mana manipulation, meanwhile, was a mystery. Other than instincts, feelings, and intuitions, there wasn't exactly a surefire way to figure out mana manipulation. Without that, it was never safe enough to experiment on mana manipulation.

Ignes sat on a stool beside Dunnford’s bed with her needles ready.

‘People generally do not mess with mana manipulation.’ Ignes took a needle and showed it to Dunnford and Ray. ‘They never exactly discovered the property that mana manipulation has, such as: the capability to dispel magic.’ Ignes stabbed Dunnford’s skin with the needle, but his invulnerability prevented it from piercing through. ‘This needle does nothing to you, Dunnford. But when I let my mana flow to it…’ Ignes stabbed Dunnford’s skin again. This time, the needle pierced through, and he winced.

More than the pain, Dunnford was curious. The revelation seemed to give him vigor.

‘How do I manipulate mana?’ he asked.

‘In Zenia’s teaching,’ Ignes said as she stitched his wound, ‘one must train with the sword until it becomes an extension of your body. Only then you could begin manipulating mana. Both of you are already skilled with the sword; and I believe it wouldn’t be long before you’re able to feel mana and manipulate it.’

It relies heavily on feeling, Ray thought.

‘There are signs that you might be familiar with it already: such as seeing colors coating someone or something.’

As Ignes continued stitching Dunnford’s wound, and he, in turn, kept asking questions at her, Ray’s mind was occupied by a single thought.

I could suppress my Bloodline Magic with mana manipulation and control it. The possibility excited him.

***

After the storm had passed and Dunnford’s wounds had been stitched, dusk came.

Ray stood alone on the wet training grounds, swinging his sword. He wanted to try mana manipulation, but he wasn’t taking the risk of dying from a brash attempt. I have to train with the sword and get a feel of it.

‘You shouldn’t push yourself too far,’ said Ignes who passed by. Ray wanted to ask her to spar with him, but he thought that she was worrying about her son, Vod, even when she didn’t look like it.

Instead, Ray asked, ‘How long will it take? For me to get a feel of mana manipulation?’

‘It differs from person to person. Some could feel it in a life-or-death situation, some are born with it, lots of scenarios. The most common method throughout history, for Zenists at least, is to attain mana manipulation mastery of the sw—’ Ignes’s eyes wandered to the other end of the training field.

There, stood many Zenists in soaked uniforms. At the center-front was Vod.

Ignes, without hesitation, ran past Ray and gave her son a hug.

‘I thought I would lose you too…’ she said with her face pressed on his chest.

Vod’s face remained expressionless, but she returned Ignes’s hug.

Beside them, coming into Ray’s view, he spotted a violet-haired swordswoman in white uniform who used her sword as a crutch. She stepped foot onto the training ground and Ray went near her.

‘… Did the ship pass through the skystorm?’ Ray asked.

Freya smiled at the question. ‘It did.’

***

At night, a hand emerged from the sea and grabbed the edge of the harbor. Kokuri pulled herself up onto land and puked all the water she had swallowed. Being an immortal didn’t mean that she was free of pain; she still felt the pain of not breathing air.

I’ll kill her, she thought, remembering the violet-haired swordswoman.

A shadow loomed over her. Kokuri looked up to see the leader of the monster worshipper, with his aide—the person with a cylindrical tube on the shaft of his spear—beside him.

‘The result is different than what I expected,’ the leader said, ‘but we’re progressing as planned.’ The leader offered his hand, but Kokuri shoved the hand away.

She could stand on her own.

… I’ll kill her.