The sky above Eidenweld was a clear canvas of pale blue, stretching endlessly over the meadows and forests. At the outskirts of the village, where the trees were sparse but the air still carried the crisp bite of wild nature, Reynar stood once more with sword in hand, facing Liora.
She didn't go easy on him anymore.
Each strike she threw was calculated, precise—and far from forgiving. Reynar dodged a sweeping blow and countered, the wooden blade whistling through the air.
Thud!
He missed.
Liora didn't hesitate—her follow-up strike landed squarely against his shoulder, sending him to the ground with a grunt.
"Again," she said flatly, though her gaze lingered on him a second longer than usual.
Reynar rolled over, panting. "You're not holding back anymore."
"You said you wanted to get stronger," she replied, "not be coddled."
There was a pause. Then, to her surprise, Reynar smiled.
"I prefer it this way."
They trained under the sun until sweat soaked their clothes and their hands trembled from exhaustion. But Reynar didn't complain. Not once. He didn't ask for a break, nor did he shy away from any pain. He kept getting back up.
And Liora noticed.
Each swing grew more refined. His footwork, once clumsy and hesitant, now had intention. His mana control improved too—his strikes beginning to carry a faint shimmer of energy. She occasionally offered pointers: shorten his stance here, rotate his core there. And he listened. Intently. Like her words were the keys to his survival.
Later that afternoon, they sat on a fallen log by a stream, cooling their feet in the water. A comfortable silence lingered between them—no longer the silence of strangers, but one of earned companionship.
"You're not like how you were," Liora said suddenly.
Reynar blinked. "What do you mean?"
"When I first met you, you were impulsive. Reckless. Weak." She gave a wry smile. "Now, you're still impulsive… but there's strength in you."
He looked down at the rippling water, his reflection staring back.
"I don't want to be that helpless person again," he said quietly. "Back in my old life… I couldn't protect anyone. Not even myself."
Liora turned her head, the faintest flicker of emotion crossing her face. "And now?"
"I'll fight. Even if it kills me."
Liora was silent for a moment, before responding. "Don't let it kill you. You're not alone anymore."
The words were simple, but they struck Reynar harder than any training blow. He looked at her—really looked at her. Her silver hair caught in the wind, her eyes firm but kind.
He smiled, gently. "Thanks."
They returned to sparring before sunset, their rhythm more fluid now, their breathing synced. For the first time, Reynar didn't feel like a burden in combat. He felt like an equal.
[System Notification]Companion Affinity Increased: 77%Bond Strengthening: Reflex Synchronization Bonus slightly increased during combat.
At one point, they ended up on the ground, Liora on top after a surprise counter-throw. She blinked, realizing how close they were. Reynar stared up, frozen.
A heartbeat passed. Then she stood, brushing her hair behind her ear to hide a blush.
"You're improving. But don't get cocky," she muttered.
Reynar chuckled as he stood. "Never."
As they walked back to the village, the sun dipped low, casting long golden rays through the trees. They didn't talk much—but every step they took side by side said more than words ever could.
Their bond wasn't forged just in battle or training, but in trust. Mutual respect. And something softer—something still unnamed.
And just beyond the treetops, though they didn't see her, Sylvie watched once again. She tilted her head, thoughtful.
"They're not bad," she whispered. "Not bad at all."
She vanished before the last light of day faded—leaving the two to continue walking home, closer than they'd ever been.