A drop of sweat slid from her temple, down her cheek, and stung at the corner of Mira's eye.

  She didn’t blink. She didn’t dare.

  The world around her was an emerald green wall that seemed intent on swallowing her alive. Moisture hung thickly in the air, turning the rainforest into a giant sauna that smelled of wet moss and sweet decay. Mira's breath was caught in her throat, heavy and shallow, while her still-thin arms trembled, holding back the pull of the bowstring that screamed to be released.

  Thirty steps ahead, on a banyan tree branch covered in glossy purple parasites, the target waited. A Monitor Lizard. Its scales shimmered faintly among the shadows of the foliage, blending so perfectly that an untrained eye would see nothing but tree bark.

  But Mira was not an ordinary person. Or at least, she tried not to be an ordinary person.

  "You're holding your breath again." The voice came from behind, low and rough like the rubbing of two river stones. Her father didn’t whisper, yet his voice somehow didn’t break the silence of the forest, as if the man were part of the shadows of the trees themselves.

  "Oxygen is fuel," the voice continued, without a trace of sympathy. "You're choking your own blood. How do you expect Intian in your chest to ignite if you block its fire?"

  Mira gritted her teeth. The tip of her arrow wobbled wildly, dancing left and right, refusing to aim. Her shoulders felt hot, as if there was a fire spreading through the deltoid muscles of her fourteen-year-old body. She tried to follow the command, exhaling slowly through her nose, but her lungs felt like they were stuffed with cotton.

  "Focus doesn't mean staring at the target until your eyes dry out, kid," her father, Lord Agnilith, stepped forward. Mira could hear a soft, crisp sound, the sound of old leather boots stepping on dry twigs. The steps stopped right beside her ear. "Focus is forgetting that you are holding a bow. Forget that your arm hurts. Forget that you want to go home."

  A large, rough hand, calloused and scarred from burns, patted Mira's back. Not gently, but enough to straighten her spine that had begun to slouch.

  “Be the wind,” her father whispered. “Don't fight the tension. Borrow its strength.”

  Mira closed her eyes for a moment. She searched for where her Essence flowed within her body, then found it in her chest. She drew it out, letting the warm feeling flow like a river to her right shoulder, then to her arm, and finally to the fingertips holding the bowstring.

  The trembling in her hands stopped.

  The noisy chirping of crickets and the distant screams of monkeys faded into a dull background hum. When Mira opened her eyes, the world narrowed. The tropical forest was gone. The heat was gone. All that remained was the faint pulse in the lizard's neck.

  She did not release the arrow. She just let her bow breathe.

  The sound was not a chime, but a heavy cough from the wood releasing kinetic energy. The humid air was split.

  On that banyan branch, there was no drama. No animal screams. The lizard just... was thrown backward, pinned to the main tree trunk with a piece of wood piercing its neck. Its tail twitched once, then went still.

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  Mira lowered her bow, her breath ragged as if she had just run a marathon. Her knees were weak. She glanced to the side, seeking validation, a smile, or at least a small nod from the giant figure next to her.

  Her father did not smile. He walked casually toward the carcass of the lizard, yanked the arrow out with a wet, disgusting tug, and then tossed the dead animal toward Mira.

  “Too slow,” he said flatly, wiping the lizard's blood on his pants. “You need five seconds to calm yourself. On the battlefield, you would have been dead three times in those five seconds.” That man turned and began walking through the dense underbrush without looking back. “Retrieve your prey. We’re not done until you can shoot while holding your breath underwater.”

  “Were you daydreaming?” Kars' voice broke Mira's thoughts. He was now standing upright with his right hand extended forward, his index and middle fingers spread and the rest clenched, like a dwarf wielding his steam pistol. “I told you to focus, not daydream,” added Kars, standing not far to Mira's left side with his arms crossed over his chest.

  "How long do I have to keep doing this?" Mira complained. She had been standing here for about two hours, and it had already taken a toll in the chilling pine forest.

  "Until you can release a light bullet."

  "Is that really important? Why not try another style? Maybe I'm not cut out for Light Style," Mira said, dropping her arms.

  “Light bullets are the basic technique of Star Magic. Whatever the style, it all starts with light bullets.” Kars didn’t move from his place.

  “Then teach me the correct way.”

  “I am already correct.”

  “Then you’re terrible at teaching,” Mira added in an annoyed tone.

  “How can you learn quickly if you’re not even patient?” Kars remained adamant, staring blankly at the woman in front of him. He could probably start with meditation, as he had when he first learned, but they didn’t have time for that. Mira had to learn as quickly as possible before anyone detected that there were still Stealix remaining.

  “I don’t have time–”

  “We all don’t have time,” Kars nodded in agreement. “And yet you complain, isn’t that also a waste of time?”

  “We should continue our journey.” Mira refused to back down, feeling that her main goal was more important than anything else.

  “And I’m supposed to carry a burden like you?” Kars took a step forward, closing the gap until his eyes were only ten centimeters away from Mira’s. “This forest isn’t as peaceful as you think. There are many dangers waiting, and of course, you have to be able to take care of yourself, too, right? I’m not a babysitter who’s always there for you, Princess.”

  Suddenly, the sound of a branch being stepped on came from the opposite side of them.

  A woman with ginger-colored hair flowing straight down to her waist. She wasn’t wearing a single thread of clothing. Her entire body emitted a bright whitish aura.

  She stood there silently, watching the two people who were arguing.

  “Lost Elf,” murmured Kars, who was already preparing to open his dimensional pouch.

  “Is that what you call us?” the Elf spoke in a soft voice that didn’t demand attention, flowing into the ears like clear river water passing over stones. Calm, steady, and soothing. In the middle of the forest, whispering with the rustle of autumn winds, her tone was the only thing that felt wet and alive, washing away the fatigue of anyone who listened.

  Kars took a white dagger with purple patterns shaped like a cluster of stardust. “Stay behind me,” he ordered Mira, who had already started stepping back.

  “I don’t want to look for enemies.” The female elf raised both hands as a sign that she didn’t want to fight. “I just want to talk.”

  “You won’t get anything from us.” Kars remained calm, but his instincts told him that this elf should not be underestimated.

  “Who said I want to buy?” The woman started to approach, her green eyes shining brightly compared to the brown leaves around her. “My name is Meir’dea. I came to offer something.”

  “We don’t want to buy either.”

  “I suppose you’re already familiar with this forest, very well then.” The female Elf smiled, bowing slightly.

  “What are you offering?” Now it was Mira who spoke. She could feel Kars watching her with a displeased gaze.

  “A way out of the forest.”

  “We can get out of this forest on our own.” Kars tried to end the conversation, but Mira stepped forward.

  “What do you want from us?” Mira asked, now only a few steps away from the Elf.

  “Seed.” Meir’Dea maintained her charming smile. Kars might not be affected, but for another man, he might be captivated at first sight.

  “Seed?” Mira touched her chin with her finger. “What kind of seed are you looking for? I mean, what kind of plant?”

  “No.” Meir’Dea looked at Kars, then smiled. “Our seed, the Klik’Iki people.”