Once again Koya saw through the eyes of the warrior.
The battlefield felt more real than ever. The same eerie silence hung thick in the air, broken only by the distant drip of blood on mud. Corpses lay everywhere — shadow knights impaled by spears, shadow wolves riddled with arrows and swords. The ground was churned and slick. She moved forward on legs that were not her own, boots crunching over broken weapons and armor.
Ikua's arm floated ahead, glowing softly in the carnage.
As the hand reached out, the figure appeared again — the man stabbed through the heart, blood pouring freely down his chest. Yet he smiled through the pain, eyes gentle even as life left him.
This time she heard his words clearly.
"Sorry… it didn't work," he whispered, voice shaky and weak, full of regret and love.
The weight of those words hit her like a physical blow.
Koya jolted awake on the cold floor of the training hall, gasping.
She sat upright, heart hammering.
"Different dream… no longer a shadow figure… but the same question," she whispered to herself. "What does it mean?"
In the washroom, Koya splashed cold water on her face and stared into the mirror. Determination burned in her eyes, sharper than before.
She walked back to the hall, gripping Ikua's arm tightly.
The day had only just begun, but nothing else existed in her mind except one goal: get stronger.
She swung Ikua's arm with everything she had — left, right, upward, downward — over and over. Each strike cut through the air with raw force. She stopped, breathing calmly, then closed her eyes.
Work on my senses. Predict. React. Win.
The empty hall vanished.
She stood once more on the Golden Arena floor. Ra'an faced her, eyes cold and confident. He teleported behind her in a blur. She spun, predicting the exact spot he would reappear, and swung. Ikua's arm whistled through empty air — he had already vanished again. He reappeared at her side and drove a fist into her ribs. Pain flared, real enough to make her grunt out loud in the real world.
She countered, Ra'an dodged, teleported behind her once more, and slammed a kick into the back of her knee. She staggered. He pressed the attack — left, right, teleport, strike — each blow faster than the last. Every time she tried to block or counter, he was already somewhere else.
Sweat poured down her real face.
In the vision, Ra'an laughed darkly. "Still the same flowless freak."
Koya roared and swung with all her strength. Ikua's arm met empty air again. Ra'an slipped inside her guard and drove a palm strike into her chest. She flew backward and crashed hard onto the arena floor.
Back in reality, she staggered and fell to her knees, breathing heavily.
"Damn it!" she screamed, frustration cracking her voice.
But she didn't quit.
She stood up and began again.
The mental battle restarted. Ra'an came at her even faster this time. She dodged, countered, missed, got hit, stood back up — over and over. Each imagined defeat hurt more than the last, but she kept swinging.
Time blurred.
A carer named Lasara eventually walked into the hall carrying a small basket. She set it down beside the exhausted girl.
"Brought your breakfast," Lasara said gently.
Koya sat upright, chest still heaving.
"Thanks, Lasara."
The carer giggled softly. "You know it isn't good to train on an empty stomach."
"Yeah… but I need to get strong. And fast. So eating kind of slipped my mind."
"Hmm… sounds exactly like something you would say." Lasara smiled. "You and she would be so similar." whispered to herself.
Koya raised an eyebrow. "You said something?"
"It's nothing…" Lasara replied, waving it off.
They sat in comfortable silence while Koya ate.
Lasara watched her for a moment, then spoke again. "Koya, you know rest is an important part of training, right?"
Koya exhaled. "You're totally right… I'll rest a little."
Lasara gasped theatrically. "Koya is actually taking my advice? I never thought I'd see the day!"
Lasara laughed warmly. Koya stared at her with a calm, tired look, then allowed herself a tiny smile.
They walked back together.
Upon reaching her room, Koya collapsed face-first onto the bed.
She groaned into the sheets. "I need to take a bath…"
Later that same day she returned to the hall.
"Going for the win this time," she whispered.
She raised Ikua's arm and swung with everything she had — left, right, upward, downward, repeating the pattern. After each swing she took a calm breath and continued. Exhaustion built, but she refused to stop.
She closed her eyes.
Ra'an stood before her again, looking angry and superior.
Koya charged. He teleported. She predicted the exact spot and swung — but he vanished again. She kept adjusting, swinging toward where she thought he would appear, pouring every ounce of speed and focus into each strike. None connected. Ra'an appeared behind her and punched her hard to the ground.
Back in reality, she dropped to her knees, breathing heavily. Head bowed for a few seconds… then she calmed herself and opened her eyes, total determination burning in them.
She rose and kept pushing.
The visualized battles continued.
Seconds became minutes. Minutes became hours. Hours became days.
Koya faced Ra'an over and over again — day and night, through storms and blistering sunshine. She moved faster. Her predictions grew sharper. She landed the occasional glancing blow. But no matter how hard she fought, she always lost in the end.
Another defeat.
Ikua's arm dropped from her palm. Sweat rained down her body. She fell to her knees.
Gasping, utterly exhausted — physically, mentally, emotionally — she stared at the artifact on the floor.
She had grown stronger. She could feel it.
But she still couldn't beat Ra'an, even inside her own head.
Koya collapsed flat on her back, looking up at the ceiling of the hall.
Hope slowly faded from her eyes.
To be continued…