“Herr Halwen, pardon me, but what exactly is a Kagemori?” Despite being well-read, it was the first time Vierna had ever heard the name.

  “Hmm. I’ll let Albrecht explain — he has more experience with them than I do.”

  Vierna looked at Albrecht. His eyes darkened, hands clasped together as he let out a sigh, as if the memory of the Kagemori had been carved into his soul.

  “They are, essentially, the warrior caste of the Western Kingdom of Tsukiyama.”

  “I thought there were only the Reich and the Imperium,” Lina said, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.

  Halwen’s quill froze mid-note. Vierna blinked, her mouth slightly open, while Albrecht slowly turned his head toward her, eyebrows lifting in visible disbelief. For a moment, no one spoke.

  “Lina, after this, you will read this book,” Halwen replied, pulling out a tome as thick as a brick. Its black leather cover was painted with a map of the continent, and in golden letters at the top of the pages were the words The Nations of the Continent.

  “But…”

  Halwen began scribbling in his little notebook — and Lina knew exactly what it meant. Another book for her endless list, one she’d be forced to read and summarize before tomorrow. It had been going on for weeks now, and lately he’d pushed her to finish an entire tome in a single day. If she failed, Halwen would give her the treatment.

  “But we’re getting off topic. Herr Albrecht, please continue.”

  “Right. Tsukiyama itself is small — no larger than a Duchy. But the Kagemori make them nearly impossible to conquer. Right now both the Reich and the Imperium are trying to win them over. And Tsukiyama? They play both sides well. They trade with us, even send a few exchange students here… and they do the same with the Imperium.”

  Vierna jotted down Albrecht’s explanation. The more she wrote, the more questions crowded her mind. This new power might one day prove useful.

  “But why are the Kagemori so dangerous?” she asked.

  Albrecht leaned back, eyes drifting toward the ceiling. “Fighting a single Kagemori is like fighting two skilled opponents at once. Their spirit and body move in perfect tandem, each masking the other’s flaws—and that’s what makes them truly dangerous. For example, if fifty Kagemori were deployed in battle, it’d be like facing a hundred warriors, all moving with perfect coordination. That’s how deadly they are.”

  “Only the high-ranking Oberkreis mages can endure such an assault,” he continued. “And even then, it’s never easy. Worse still, the Kagemori can draw directly on natural mana. We wizards cannot. They can fight without end, while our reserves eventually run dry.”

  Vierna’s eyes widened with something dangerously close to hope. To think that her abandonment might carry even a single gift—it felt like a blessing in disguise, a fragile ember of warmth flickering in the heart of a blizzard.

  “But how can a person move without their spirit?” she pressed.

  “That’s the thing, we don’t know for sure,” Halwen said, studying her. “Some theorists claim the body cannot live, let alone move, without the spirit. But another school of thought argues that humankind is made of three parts—body, soul, and spirit. They say that as long as the soul remains—your will, your thoughts—the body can still move even if the spirit is absent. Maybe they’re right. Otherwise, how could a Kagemori act while their spirit isn’t within them, but moving alongside instead?”

  She tried to piece together what he meant, but managed only fragments. Lina scratched her head in confusion.

  “I see…” Vierna murmured, though her voice wavered. She kept quiet for a moment, trying to fully understand what Halwen was saying. But another question soon rose to her lips. “But about the mind reading—could I do that to everyone?”

  “Like I said,” Albrecht said. “There were a certain condition to be met. That was why I give you consent first before telling you to read my mind.”

  “However, Vierna,” he continued, “I don’t think normal Kagemori could do what you did. I mean, this is the Arkmarschall we’re talking about—one of the best psychomancers alive—and you managed to pierce his spell. That means maybe one day you could just stare at someone and read their mind. When that day comes, please don’t do that to me, okay?”

  “Haha, no promises, Albrecht. You can be sure I’ll dig up all your dirty secrets,” Vierna snickered.

  “Ah man,” he groaned, laughing. “I regret all the teasing I did to her already.”

  “Anyway,” Albrecht continued, “Talking about Tsukiyama, we’re fortunate they’ve remained neutral. They keep to their mountains and rarely trouble anyone. And frankly, we can thank their disdain for technology and their outdated magic for that. They’ve tried adapting to modern spellcraft, but never to technology. They still love their yumi far too much. And honestly, I can’t blame them—the yumi is a remarkable bow. It can shoot—”

  As Albrecht launched into a long explanation about the traditional bow of Tsukiyama, Lina pinched her cheeks to stay awake. If it would help Vierna, she wanted to listen—but gods, this much talk about a piece of wood was more than even she could endure.

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  Albrecht then described its length, the curve of the string, the material of the wood, the arrows, the posture, the draw, the release. At one point he even tried crafting a replica from his wood maigc, only to discard it several times, muttering that it didn’t capture the essence of a true yumi.

  Vierna dutifully jotted down every word, while Halwen buried his face in his palm. And Lina? She had already dozed off somewhere between the lecture, unable to endure it much longer.

  “Herr Albrecht, could we please stay on track?” Halwen pressed, his tone calm but strained with patience.

  “But this is very, very essential, Herr Halwen! After all, how can we understand something if we don’t get the full picture of their culture?”

  Halwen pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “You’ve only talked about bows, and honestly, unless the bow was made by some kind of spirit construct, I fail to see the relevance to Vierna’s condition.”

  “Like I said, it’s to understand their culture! I’m sure Vierna gets what I mean.”

  Vierna laughed a little, glancing up from her notes. “Yes, Herr Halwen. They say you can understand so much about a culture from its weapons, so I think Albrecht has some point here.”

  Albrecht straightened proudly, grinning. “See? She gets it! Oh man, if one day I get married, I hope my wife’s like Vierna.”

  Vierna raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Why someone like me when I’m right in front of you?”

  “Wait… seriously?” Albrecht blinked, caught off guard.

  “Haha, no way, Albrecht,” Vierna said, chuckling. “I think I already belong to someone else.”

  “Yeah, to House Einhart, huh? You really need to update your jokes.”

  Halwen let out a quiet, resigned sigh and waved a hand. “By the gods—kids these days. Fine, continue with the ‘culture’ explanation.”

  For a while, the room felt like a normal classroom after hours—friends joking around, unburdened by war or duty. Albrecht then continued on with his lecture about the “culture” of Tsukiyama. Apparently, the only thing that mattered about that culture was how great their bows were. Finally, after a grueling hour of explanations, Albrecht closed up his lecture.

  “And that’s probably why our crossbows and muskets, while effective, lack the certain elegance of the yumi. They’re just tools, a means to an end. The yumi, though—it was made to last forever.”

  “Haha… I see, I see. A very fruitful lecture after all,” Vierna snickered, finishing her notes. “Anyway, Albrecht, how do you even know that much about them?”

  Albrecht’s eyes glinted. “The Arkmarschall once sent me as an envoy to Tsukiyama. Beautiful place, really — still has that become one with nature atmosphere. But dueling? They take it more seriously than even the Reich. To die in a duel there is considered an honor.”

  “So, of course, I had to duel a Kagemori to earn their respect. And let me tell you, that woman was insane. Vierna, if you ever see a Kagemori charging at you with a katana—run. It’s like being double-teamed. The blade comes from two angles at once, slashes delayed just enough to confuse you, and sometimes her body would move while her spirit cast spells. They called it a duel, but it was really two against one. I only can count my blessing when I somehow deceived her spirit and was able to point a dagger at her throat.”

  Vierna tried to picture the duel. How could anyone face two blades at once? She had trained against the four-armed dummy before, but its strikes were mechanical, one at a time from different angles. This was different. Two sentient wills attacking in perfect sync — and on top of that, dodging spells while being hunted by a blade? How? And how had Albrecht survived, let alone won, such a fight?

  “And you know all those details—especially about the bow—from that duel?” She leaned in, brimming with curiosity.

  “Ahaha, you could say that. After the first duel ended in a draw, we had a rematch… in a much more confined space.” Albrecht grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

  From the corner of the room, Lina stirred. She blinked, rubbing her eyes, still half-asleep. “Huh… did he just say confined space?”

  No one answered her, Vierna was still too focused on Albrecht.

  “What? They have caged duels?” Vierna asked.

  Albrecht rubbed his chin. “Yeah, though I wouldn’t call it a cage. The terrain was soft… fluffy.”

  Vierna tilted her head. Did they use some kind of earth-softening skill, like Halwen did? But no, it didn’t sound like that at all. And an enclosed space? Just what sort of duels did they have in Tsukiyama?

  “What kind of duel is that? Do they hold it anywhere else?”

  “Haha, well, you could say that. Honestly, that second duel was even deadlier than the first. She moved like a mustang, wild and kicking, and her flexibility—by the Arkmarschall, how does a human even bend like that? One moment she was twisting, the next her leg was up—ah, I nearly—”

  Lina jolted upright.

  “STOP! Stop!! Don’t corrupt my Vierna!” Lina shouted, clapping her hands firmly over Vierna’s ears. She forced her voice into exaggerated outrage.

  “Haha… oh, that’s what you meant.” Vierna laughed. “Albrecht, I’m still innocent, so please don’t share that kind of information with me.”

  Albrecht only laughed at the girls, while Lina shot him a glare. Halwen shook his head, watching the exchange with weary resignation. Kids, he thought.

  “Anyway, Herr Albrecht,” Halwen said firmly, “is there any information that would actually help us develop Vierna’s Kagemori ability?”

  “Haha, but in all seriousness.” Albrecht’s tone shifted, heavy and unrelenting, like a boulder pressing down on the chest. “There’s nothing Vierna can do yet. The Kagemori dodge every question that even brushes close to how their power works.

  What I can tell you is this: once, when I pretended to be asleep, I saw her. She was sitting there… brushing her spirit. As if it were her own child.”

  “What?”

  “It’s true. She stroked it with such care, like it was alive beside her. I couldn’t make sense of it then, and I still can’t.”

  “How can she brush it when she can’t touch it?” Lina leaned forward, “I tried with Vierna’s spirit but I just can’t.”

  “That… I don’t know, but I know what I saw.” Albrecht looked at Vierna as he said it.

  Vierna then thought, does that means she have to coddle Moony? How? She was inside of her, and she didn’t even know how to get Moony’s place.

  “So you saw her spirit, like a ghost version of her?” Halwen asked.

  Albrecht scratched his head, “Yes… maybe because she already able to manifest it? I don’t exactly know Kagemori works too.” Albrecht looked at Vierna’s contemplation, her eyes fixed to the floor. “Vierna?”

  “Hmm, I had a conversation with her. She was somewhere that she said I can’t live without it.”

  Halwen scribble it down on his little note book.

  “Vierna try to talk to her again if you can.” Albrecht added, “Maybe she knew something that we don’t.”

  “I will, thanks Albrecht.”

  Albrecht nodded then look at both Lina and Vierna, “Well tomorrow you will be training as usual. Prepare yourself, we will hasten the pace.”

  With renewed determination, and a sliver of hope that she might yet overcome her Faintborn condition, Vierna lifted her head. For the first time in her life, she looked forward to the future. Today it shone brightly for her — though no one could know what tomorrow would bring.