"Okay! So I'm not going to use my Blessing," Nathan declares, hands on his hips.

Raiden gives him a dry smile. "You're bragging about your physical prowess yet again, eh?" He touches the jewelry adorned on his left earlobe. "Answer my call, Cypress."

His silver cross earring flashes bright and transforms into a broadsword. A single thorny vine erupts from the rain-guard of his sword and spirals up the blade. He tightens his grip and takes a stance.

"Remember to focus," Nathan urges, raising his fists in a combat position. "Don't limit yourself. Don't be afraid to hurt me, and . . . don't expect me to treat you kindly either."

Raiden gives a rueful smile. "I got it." He takes a deep breath and turns off the divine power of his Blessing.

The thorny vine that encircled his broadsword's blade vanishes, leaving the pitch-black blade naked and menacing.

Nathan had asked him to train with him half an hour after their breakfast, per Raia's request, which didn't surprise him in the least. Raia is undoubtedly a better fighter than him. What he lacks that she possesses is concentration. During their fights with the demons, Raiden was nothing more than a burden to her. She had to suffer because of his carelessness. He did nothing but upset her.

But he can't dwell on that.

To keep up with her, he must improve himself. They will be a permanent team. That's why he can't make the same mistake twice. If he does, he will not only disappoint Raia and the Order, but he will also fail as a savior.

I already took my resolve: to save and destroy souls.

Raiden's golden eyes light up with a spark of fire as a sense of determination rises within him.

The goal of this training is to strengthen his concentration and focus. To achieve a promising result, he must eliminate the root of his weakness.

Raiden must learn to control his emotions.

"Also," Nathan adds, raising one finger. "Try summoning vines even if your blade is in use."

Raiden, of course, must also sharpen his Blessing.

"Sure thing," Raiden answers, and they pounce on each other.

***

Raiden drops his broadsword to the concrete floor and a loud metallic clank resounds throughout the room. He lets out a huge sigh and slumps to the ground, leaning his back against the sturdy wall. Sweat beads on his brow as he catches his breath. His white button-up shirt is drenched in perspiration.

Nathan succumbs to the same condition, collapsing to the ground. As he breathes heavily, his muscles flex and stretch, and sweat drips down his bare chest. He has bandages wrapped around his body in various places, and there's a fresh cut across his chest. Similarly, Nathan's powerful kicks and punches have left Raiden with bruises.

It is the third day of their training. They've been up for five hours today, with no breaks. Raiden had been dragging Nathan from his bed at two a.m. every day to train with him, and the half-asleep Nathan would groan until Raiden summoned his Blessing, at which point Nathan would finally wake up. Nonetheless, Raiden appreciates his friend's perseverance. Likewise, Nathan admires Raiden's determination.

"I guess training with me is a wise option," Nathan says, beaming. "I can tell you've improved."

Raiden cracks a grin. "Well, I wouldn't expect anything less from such a promising Apostle."

Nathan wiggles his eyebrows. "I like the sound of that."

Laughter erupts from their mouths.

"So," Nathan says after a few moments of silence. "You're still looking for them?"

Raiden gives a small smile. "Yes, I am." His voice is barely above a whisper. "Milan is helping me with it."

Nathan's brows puckers. "Milan? As in Milan?"

Raiden shoots him a look. "Who else?"

"Well, I'm a bit surprised. He is one of Bishop Galbraith's personal staff. Isn't the Bishop going to notice something?"

"Don't worry, brother won't suspect a thing. And I trust Milan."

Nathan stares at him for a few moments before speaking again. "Why not ask the bishop himself?"

A pang of guilt and shame sweeps over Raiden. He narrows his eyes. He feels bad for keeping things from Cyrus, but his overpowering desire to know the family he has forgotten leaves him with no other choice.

"I already asked him before, but he never responded," Raiden says quietly. "He once told me to forget it because it's pointless."

Silence fills the room, and the temperature takes a sudden nosedive.

"It could be because Bishop Galbraith is trying to imply . . . " Nathan blurs the end of his sentence, as if unable to continue speaking.

Raiden tightens his jaw. "I know. But I still want to know who they are. I want to remember . . . what I've forgotten. Even if I'll never meet them, visiting their grave will suffice."

Nathan's features darken with sympathy, and he lowers his head.

Raiden clenches his hands, his chest wrenching inside him. Even though he is aware of this, he has not given up hope. Somehow, he believes that his family is still alive - that his parents are still alive and well somewhere out there.

Because he must or he'll never know himself.

The door swings open. Raiden and Nathan leap to their feet, taken aback. They stare as Sunshine strolls into the training room. She tosses them each a bottle of cold water, which the bone-tired boys empty in one gulp.

Nathan gives a sigh of pleasure. "I never imagined you could be useful at times, Sunshine."

Sunshine glares at him. "Put your shirt on."

Nathan arches an eyebrow. "Does this bother you?" He jabs a finger at his chest. He has a sly grin on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I know you have a crush on me, so I understand."

Sunshine's lips twitch with contempt, a line etched between her brows. "Shut up, dummy. Nobody will like an idiot like you."

Nathan chuckles as he picks up his shirt from the floor and puts it on, his grin widening as he casts a teasing glance at Sunshine.

Raiden lets out a sigh. "You're teasing Sunshine again."

Sunshine looks away from Nathan and crosses her arms. "Anyway, I'm not alone, so fix yourselves."

Raiden and Nathan's brows furrow in confusion. They turn their heads and their eyes widen. Standing in the doorway is no other than the grim-faced girl.

"Raia?" Raiden blurts out. He rises to his feet.

Raia gives him a sidelong glance before sauntering into the room, her face unreadable. Silence pervades the room as a result of her presence alone, as if the icy aura coming from her is capable of freezing anything in her path. Nathan, too, has fallen silent. He straightens up and looks at Raia. Surprisingly, there's no hint of mischief on his face.

When Raia reaches the far corner of the room, she turns around and looks at Raiden. She closes her fist around her silver cross pendant.

"Answer my call, Raphael," she utters, and her flaming longsword appears - but, to Raiden's surprise, the holy flame surrounding the blade vanishes. The torchlights glisten on the long silver blade as she aims it at him.

"Kara." Her deep voice cuts through the silence.

Is she going to . . . Raiden doesn't finish his thought. It takes him a few tense moments before he finally finds the voice that has frozen since Raia's entrance.

His lips slowly curl into a smile. He bends down and takes up his broadsword, the divine power still inactive, and points it at her.

Nathan and Sunshine lean against the wall, anticipating the impending battle before their eyes.

"Show me what you're capable of." Raia's prosaic voice reverberates around the room, her glacial gray eyes boring into his blazing golden ones.

"I'll show you that the coward from yesterday no longer exists," Raiden declares, his lips set in a determined smile. He senses a fervent emotion raging within him, one that provides him with strength and power. One that promises him victory.

Let me show you what I've learned from my mistakes.

"I will defeat you," Raiden adds before launching himself with his sword held high.