The next morning arrived quietly, as if the world itself hadn't fully woken yet. The sun had only just begun to rise above the mountains, casting a soft, pale light across the training grounds behind the Kaze estate. The air was cool, the wind gentle, and for anyone watching from afar, it might have seemed peaceful.
Up close, it was anything but.
A sharp clack broke the stillness as a wooden sword slipped from Kaito's hands and hit the ground. He stood there for a moment, chest rising unevenly, his grip still half-formed in the air where the sword had been. His stance had collapsed again. His shoulders were too tight, his balance off, his movements lacking any real control.
Across from him, Akira didn't react. He simply watched.
"Again."
Kaito bent down, picked up the sword, and took a slow breath. He tried to steady himself the way he had been taught, drawing his focus inward, trying to feel the pulse within his body. It was there, faint but present, moving through him like something alive.
At least… it was supposed to.
The rhythm felt uneven, slipping away from him no matter how hard he tried to hold onto it.
He stepped forward and swung.
Akira moved at the same time. Their wooden swords met for only an instant before Kaito's balance gave out completely, and he stumbled backward across the grass. The impact hadn't been strong, but it was enough.
Akira lowered his blade.
Kaito stared at the ground, breathing hard.
The wind passed quietly between them.
"Again."
This time Kaito didn't hesitate. He rushed forward, faster, putting more force behind the strike. But the moment he moved, it was obvious. His swing was forced, his timing predictable. Akira stepped aside with ease and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"Dead."
Kaito froze.
His chest tightened as he tried again. And again. Each attempt blurred into the next, his movements growing sharper but not better. His strikes missed. His rhythm broke apart. The pulse he was trying so hard to control scattered every time he reached for it.
Eventually, he stepped back, frustration spilling over before he could stop it.
"Why…" His voice faltered slightly. "Why isn't it working?"
Akira studied him for a moment before answering.
"You're fighting yourself."
Kaito looked up, confused.
Akira stepped closer and tapped him lightly on the chest. "Your body is here," he said, calm as ever. "But your mind isn't."
Kaito didn't respond. He looked away instead.
Akira didn't push him. He simply turned slightly and raised his hand. "Watch."
Kaito frowned but stayed still.
Akira closed his eyes, and for a moment, nothing seemed to happen. His breathing slowed, steady and controlled, and the space around him grew quieter somehow. Then Kaito felt it.
The pulse.
It moved through Akira like a calm, steady tide. The air around his hand began to tremble, subtle at first, like heat rising off stone. A faint distortion formed in his palm, barely visible, then slowly began to take shape. It sharpened, condensed, and gathered into something more solid.
A blade of pale, shimmering energy extended from his hand.
Kaito's eyes widened.
Akira opened his eyes. "This is a Pulse Blade," he said, his voice even.
The blade flickered softly as he shifted his hand, the air around it humming with quiet energy. "It's created by compressing your pulse into a stable form."
Kaito couldn't take his eyes off it. "You can… actually make something like that?"
A faint smile touched Akira's face. "Pulse can become many things."
With a small motion, the blade dissolved, breaking apart into faint strands of light that disappeared into the air. Then he looked back at Kaito.
"Your turn."
Kaito blinked. "Me?"
"Yes."
He hesitated, but only for a second. Slowly, he raised his hand and closed his eyes, trying to focus. He steadied his breathing and reached inward, searching for that same rhythm he had just seen.
The pulse answered, faint and unsteady.
He pushed it toward his palm.
The air trembled.
A dim glow flickered into existence, and for a brief moment, it began to take shape. A thin outline of a blade appeared, unstable but real.
Then it collapsed instantly, scattering into nothing.
Kaito opened his eyes. "…What?"
Akira said nothing.
Kaito tried again. He gathered the pulse, forced it forward, tried to shape it the way he had seen.
The form appeared.
And broke apart just as quickly.
His jaw tightened. "Again."
He repeated the process, over and over. Each time, the blade formed for a fraction of a second before dissolving like dust slipping through his fingers.
Frustration crept into his voice. "Why won't it stay?!"
Akira stepped closer. "Because you're forcing it."
Kaito shook his head immediately. "I'm not—"
"You are."
There was no harshness in Akira's tone, but there was no room for argument either.
"Your pulse isn't stable," he continued. "You're not focused on what you're doing."
Kaito looked down at his hand, breathing unevenly.
"You're thinking about Ren."
He froze.
The wind moved softly through the field.
Akira's expression softened just a little. "There's nothing wrong with falling behind someone strong."
Kaito didn't answer. His fists tightened at his sides.
Akira placed a hand on his shoulder. "But there is something wrong with letting it break you."
Kaito's eyes trembled slightly, though he tried to hide it. "I'm not broken."
Akira held his gaze, silent.
Kaito looked away first.
"…He's already a Master," he said quietly. "We're the same age."
He stared at the ground, his voice dropping further. "I can't even imagine how strong he is now."
The trees rustled softly in the distance, the sound filling the silence between them.
After a long pause, Akira spoke again, his voice quieter this time.
"Kaito."
Kaito looked up.
"Strength isn't about how fast someone rises," Akira said, gesturing lightly toward him. "It's about whether you keep moving forward."
Kaito stared at his hand again, as if expecting an answer to appear there. "…Then why does it feel like I'm not going anywhere?"
Akira smiled faintly. "Because you're looking too far ahead."
He stepped back and nodded toward him. "Try again."
Kaito took a slow breath. The wind brushed against his face, cool and steady. This time, he didn't think about Ren. He didn't think about the distance between them or how far he had to go.
He focused only on the rhythm.
The pulse moved through him, quieter now, more controlled. He guided it into his palm without forcing it, letting it gather instead of pushing it forward.
The air shimmered again.
A faint blade began to form, clearer than before.
It held for a moment longer than any of his previous attempts.
Then it shattered into light.
Kaito lowered his hand, breathing hard.
Akira gave a small nod. "Better."
Kaito blinked, surprised. "…It was?"
"Yes."
Akira picked up the wooden sword Kaito had dropped earlier and handed it back to him.
"We'll keep working."
Kaito took it, his grip still not as steady as it should have been.
But this time, he didn't hesitate when he raised it.
The wind moved quietly across the training field.
And training began again.
Meanwhile — Water Clan.
A wide, open training field stretched beneath the pale blue sky. Dozens of Water Clan master stood in formation, surrounding a single figure at the center — Ren.
His breathing was calm. Controlled. Focused.
Across from him stood several masters, ready to test the strength of the youngest prodigy in the clan's history.
The ground stilled.
Then, Ren raised his right hand, palm open.
A deep, hollow hum filled the air as pulse gathered in his core, pulsing through his veins, channeling into his arm.
In a flash, water burst forth from his palm, swirling rapidly in the air, spiraling faster and faster. It wasn't drawn from the lake. It didn't fall from the sky. It came from him — born of raw essence, shaped by mastery.
The air shook.
The swirling mass expanded, compressed, twisted—
"Water Assertion: Dragon Vortex!" Ren declared.
From his palm, a towering dragon made of water erupted into the sky, its body spiraling like a cyclone, its jaws opening wide. Its scales shimmered with layered technique, precision, and cold intent.
The dragon surged forward, roaring, and slammed into the gathered masters like a tidal god.
The ground shattered. Stone cracked. Water exploded outward in violent waves. The protective barriers raised by the masters shattered one by one, splintered like thin ice.
The impact sent bodies flying, the terrain warping under the force.
When the steam settled, the entire field was drenched. Craters smoked. Several masters lay on the ground, breathing heavily, stunned, defeated.
And at the center—Ren stood alone, palm still slightly extended, steam drifting from his fingers.
From the side of the wrecked field, a figure stepped forward.
An older man with a scar cut down his cheek,blue-streaked hair, and a staff in his hand.
His presence was sharp, posture straight, expression severe — a master of the old ways. His cloak fluttered behind him, soaked slightly by the aftermath, but his gaze remained fixed on the boy.
"That was beautiful," the man said, his tone low and unwavering. "Your control has become flawless."
Ren turned to him and gave a respectful nod. "Thank you, Master Akimitsu."
Akimitsu stepped closer, surveying the damaged arena, then the fallen warriors. "And your technique... it matured. The Dragon Vortex didn't waver, not even once during impact."
Ren allowed a small breath. "I've had your guidance to thank for that."
A pause. Then Akimitsu nodded. "You've surpassed many senior masters of the clan, and you're 6. At this rate, you'll evolve into a True being in no time. After that... even I won't be able to match you."
Ren didn't smile, but his voice held a trace of something — determination, maybe. "If I stop pushing myself now, I'll fall short. I still have much to learn."
"Good." Akimitsu voice turned steel-like. "Complacency is the first sign of weakness."
The two stared across the broken field. Warriors still lay recovering. The earth itself had been reshaped. Akimitsu's eyes narrowed.
"You held back," he said plainly.
Ren hesitated. Then replied, "If I hadn't… they wouldn't walk away."
Akimitsu exhaled through his nose, folding his arms. "Ren, listen carefully. We of the Water Clan do not fight to show mercy. We fight to preserve order. To enforce law. Our enemies do not hesitate. Criminals will not beg. When the moment comes — when the world is at its worst — you don't hesitate either."
"I know," Ren said. "But this wasn't war. It was training."
The master stepped closer. "Our clan was founded on one principle: Absolute Justice. No forgiveness for crimes, no tolerance for chaos. That is the law we carry in us. One day, you'll carry it more purely than any of us."
Ren didn't respond immediately. His palm flexed, a faint glimmer of water forming again, responding to his will like an extension of himself.
"I won't fail that principle," he finally said. "I'll become strong enough to erase evil completely."
The master studied him one last time. Not with affection — but with expectation.
"Then continue," he said. "Refine your power. Cleanse your heart of hesitation. The world doesn't just need kindness. It needs order."
And with that, the wind brushed past them, carrying mist and silence across the ruined field.
Not too far away
Naoki stood watching Ren from the distance, arms crossed. By his side, a cloaked man stood silently — his face hidden in shadow.
The man spoke first, voice smooth and ancient. "Your son... is gifted. He may even surpass you."
Naoki remained still. "He takes after his mother."
"Kairi, huh?" the man murmured. "She truly was one of a kind. Too bad she's not here to see how powerful her son has become."
"Yeah..." Naoki whispered.
There was a long pause. Then the cloaked figure continued, "Are you prepared for what's coming?"
Naoki's gaze sharpened. "I've always been ready."
"Good. That's what we expect from you."
"All that's left is to be patient and wait for the perfect time to carry out our plan."
A slight chuckle. "This time, the Origin core will be ours. No mistakes."
Naoki's lips curled faintly. "We will."
As the man turned and walked away, Naoki whispered under his breath, eyes locked on Ren far below.
"Don't worry. We'll achieve our goal. No matter the cost."
Back at the Wind Village.
In one of the wind training grounds.
A whirlwind tore through the sky as Toru ducked beneath Hana's slicing gust. He leapt upward, spun, and countered with a spiraling gale of his own. Hana blocked it with a flick of her wrist, dispersing it like smoke.
"Hah! You're slowing down," Hana teased mid-battle.
Toru grinned. "Nah—I'm just distracted by how beautiful you look while kicking my butt."
"Focus!" she smirked, launching a pulse of wind that knocked him back several feet.
Toru rolled forward, the earth cracking beneath his hands as he propelled himself to close the distance. He surged toward Hana in a blur, fists flying faster than the eye could follow.
They clashed fist to fist—punches landing with thunderous force, each blow creating shockwaves that shattered the ground beneath them. Their movements were a dazzling storm of motion, blurring past the eye with godlike speed, dodging and weaving at light-speed.
Hana's palm struck like a meteor crashing through the sky, sending Toru staggering. He countered with an elbow strike that smashed into her ribs, forcing a grunt from her lips.
They grappled, muscles straining, each trying to overpower the other. Hana twisted, breaking free and delivering a spinning backfist that cracked the air like a whip.
Toru blocked it just in time, their fists colliding in a blinding flash of energy—like two thunderclaps crashing simultaneously. The shockwave roared outward, toppling trees and cracking stone.
Breathing heavily but unyielding, they leapt apart.
The air thickened as they summoned their wind powers.
Hana's eyes narrowed as she shaped a spiraling blade of razor wind in her palm, humming with lethal pulse. Toru's arms glowed with a fierce gale, slicing through the air like a storm unleashed.
As their powers surged forward, the two forces slammed into each other with an earth-shattering explosion—a sonic boom that ripped through the sky, sending shockwaves crashing over the training grounds.
Kaito and Hina, watching wide-eyed, instinctively flinched as the shockwave thundered toward them.
Almost without thinking, both Hana and Toru instinctively summoned twin layers of protective wind barrier around the children—one encasing the other. They didn't look, didn't move, yet their pulse surged with parental precision, forming invisible but unbreakable barriers around Kaito and Hina.
The first dome absorbed the brunt of the raw force, rippling like a giant bubble buffeted by a storm. The second dome reinforced it, holding firm against debris, dust, and the crushing pressure of the blast.
Inside the safe haven, Kaito and Hina gasped, their hair whipping but their bodies untouched.
Outside, the air shimmered with residual energy as the clashing winds finally settled.
Toru staggered but caught himself, chest rising and falling fast.
With a sudden burst, Hana propelled herself forward with the force of a gale, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Her fists flew again—compressed air crackling around each strike, delivering the impact of collapsing mountains.
Toru barely managed to raise his arms, blocking and parrying, but the sheer speed and strength of Hana's assault pushed him backward.
He lunged to grab her, but Hana twisted midair, delivering a powerful spinning kick that slammed into his ribs with a force that rattled his breath.
Toru grunted, staggering, but countered with a massive overhead palm strike charged with gale energy. Hana dodged by an inch, feeling the air compress fiercely where his hand had been.
They clashed again in a blur—fists pounding, bodies weaving with impossible speed.
Finally, Hana caught Toru off guard. With a swift step inside his guard, she grabbed his wrists, twisting and throwing him down hard onto the ground.
Before he could react, Hana pinned him—one hand pressed firmly against his chest, the other gripping his shoulder, her eyes burning with fierce determination.
Toru's breath hitched, trapped under her weight and the invisible pressure of swirling wind holding him in place.
"I win," Hana said softly but firmly, a victorious smile breaking through.
Toru's lips curved into a tired grin. "Okay, okay… you win."
The protective domes dissolved in the wind. The moment the air cleared, Kaito jumped to his feet, eyes sparkling.
"That was amazing!" he yelled, running toward them. "Mom, you're so strong! You were like—boom, crack, and then—bam! You're the coolest ever!"
Hana turned, still catching her breath, her expression softening as she saw his beaming face.
She knelt down and scooped him into her arms, pulling him into a tight hug, cheek pressed against his.
"Thank you, sweet boy," she smiled, swaying with him gently in her arms.
Kaito laughed loudly. "Mom! You're squishing my face!"
Toru groaned dramatically as he stood, brushing dust from his robes. Then he walked over and picked up Hina, who had her arms raised toward him with glee.
"Don't worry, little one. Daddy will train you too. You'll be strong like us one day."
Hina giggled. "I wanna fly like you!"
The four of them stood together beneath the golden sky, wind brushing softly through the trees—peaceful now, after the storm.
Kaito looked up, eyes wide and bright, heart full of wonder but steady with resolve.
One day, I'll be even stronger than all of you.