Shirei was still at the Lilies Park canteen, sitting at the gloomy table of Cragar's children together with Marina and Dalia. The canteen was animated by the lively conversations of those present, who talked about training, lessons and mythological tales. The air smelled of freshly baked bread, creating a relaxing atmosphere. But the purple-eyed boy, as often happened, seemed distant, almost disconnected from that place.

Marina and Dalia laughed at some jokes, exchanging knowing glances, but Shirei did not participate in the lightness of the moment. His eyes stared into space, lost in trying to reclaim the lost memories in his mind. His rigid posture and impenetrable silence created an invisible barrier between him and the others. Even though he was sitting next to the two girls, it was as if he was somewhere else.

Marina noticed his absent look and smilingly extended some food towards him, she hoped through that means she could get him to talk.

However, to his chagrin, she watched Shirei slowly rise from his chair. His movements were calm, measured, but his height and presence did not go unnoticed. Marina looked at him with curiosity, while Dalia limited herself to giving him only a furtive glance, with the usual mischievous smile that lit up her face.

“I'm going to train,” he announced in a low, calm voice.

He did not explain further, nor did he prefer to add any clarifications or elaborate greetings. It was a simple phrase, which he often repeated to himself, as if training was the only thing that gave him direction since he was at the Lilies Park.

Marina got up with him, “Why don't you stay until the end of lunch?”

The other demigods present stopped speaking and looked at him, some with a slight uneasiness. Shirei was the son of Cragar, the god of the dead, and when he moved, darkness walked with him to bring chaos.

An unwritten law that all demigods knew as a fundamental tenet of their gospel: Cragar equals trouble. But they could never understand his connection to the darkness, and his solitary and impenetrable nature made him even more mysterious.

Within seconds, a black mass of pure shadows began to surround his body. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees as the darkness gathered around him.

“Finish without me, see you.”

After saying those words, Shirei disappeared, dissolving into darkness, leaving behind only a murmur of amazement and concern.

Ien's daughter stood looking at the spot where Shirei had disappeared, her face thoughtful.

Dalia, however, with an enigmatic smile, shrugged her shoulders and returned to focusing on her meal, as if she was used to that sudden disappearance.

She dug the cutlery into the meat, "It's always the same, Marina," she added yieldingly, "It's always the same."

The darkness lifted around Shirei, like a blanket of shadows and fog. The demigod walked with sure step, crossing that ghostly world that stretched out before him in a shapeless tumult of green, white and black colors. An unreal space, where the earth seemed to melt into smoke and the sky did not exist. The landscape changed continuously, as if it had no defined shape, but was made of fragments of thought and distorted emotions.

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A place dedicated exclusively for Cragar and his heirs.

The air was warm, almost temperatureless, and every breath seemed to bring with it a slight movement of molecules, which Shirei didn't know whether to attribute to some magical energy present in that dimension.

Of course, this wasn't a new sensation for the purple-eyed boy. He knew well the emptiness that that darkness brought with it. The Interworld was a safe road he crossed countless times, in a certain sense he could consider it a temporary refuge that distanced him from the chaotic world of the living and immersed him in a dimension where nothing had meaning anymore.

As he walked, his face remained impassive, but his mind was constantly moving.

I could actually have stayed a little longer, but I prefer to train now. Sorry, Marina.

It wasn't just to avoid the distractions or noise of the demigods at Lilies Park. It was a deeper need, a need to perfect himself again and again. Cragar had often admitted that he was against uncalculated effort, yet it was always the same deity who had repeatedly reminded him of how necessary it was to become more powerful.

And the only way I know to get better is to train.

There was a challenge wandering inside him, a silent voice urging him to prove himself worthy of his mysterious destiny. He had to succeed not only in mastering his abilities, but also in finding his identity. Every time he thought about his potential, he felt a growing pressure, an expectation that was placed upon him.

He wasn't worried about being Cragar's son, but rather about knowing what awaited him in the future.

Is the reason why Cragar cared so much about me due to simple concern for his son, or to other mysteries lying dormant in my memories?

A question that would remain unanswered.

When the Interworld began to dissolve around him, Shirei reemerged at the edge of the Lilies Park, in a hidden and quiet area, surrounded by tall trees. The contrast was stark: from the ghostly darkness of the Interworld to the reassuring calm of the forest, the Otherworld seemed almost too bright and peaceful. Yet, that contrast perfectly reflected his state of mind: apparently calm and resolute, but inside himself in constant doubt, always fighting with his past.

Shirei headed into the woods, looking for the perfect place to train. His violet eyes scanned his surroundings carefully, looking for a sufficiently hidden area. He didn't want to be disturbed, nor did he want to risk anyone seeing him. From what he understood, there were no monsters in the Otherworld, but that didn't mean he couldn't stumble upon a group of other creatures by chance.

I imagine that elves, dwarves or nymphs are here somewhere…

The tall trees, with their intertwined branches, formed a sort of natural dome above him. The silence of the place was broken only by the slight rustling of the leaves moving in the wind.

He continued wandering for a quarter of an hour, finally finding a fairly large clearing, surrounded by tall trunks that seemed to protect his personal space. The sun barely filtered through the foliage, casting long, broken shadows on the soft, damp ground.

Perfect.

With a slow, measured movement, Shirei extended his right hand in front of him and closed his eyes. He felt the darkness of the Interworld answer his call, signaled by a discharge coursing through his veins. Out of nowhere, a dark shape began to emerge from the shadow cast at his feet.

The Blade of Discord slowly appeared, as if forged directly from the void. It was a dark metal sword, the blade of which, despite having a black base, reflected an eerie acid green light.

The sword was not only a physical weapon, but a 'catalyst' of magic: each blow it inflicted destabilized the enemy, causing wounds that not only tore the flesh, but also the mind, with a pain that spread progressively, becoming more and more unbearable.

The suffering then gradually decreased, after having caused the victim's total shock.

Shirei looked at the sword calmly. He had already experienced it several times during his training in the Underworld and knew its power best.

Cragar's gift upon his arrival in the Underworld had served him well in more than a few situations.

And I never even thanked him for it.

His face showed no emotion, but he felt the power pulse through the sword. The connection between the demigod and the Blade of Discord was total, as if it had been forged exactly for him.

Time to focus now, he reminded himself, No more thoughts.