Before starting the actual training, Shirei performed a series of warm-up movements. He was meticulous in his preparations, as every gesture was an integral part of his journey.

The training put him in the best conditions to fight every battle and win it.

The warm-up allowed him to have the perfect conditions for a good workout.

With his feet planted firmly on the ground, he began to move slowly, concentrating on his breathing. His body responded to the commands of his mind. The blade's movements were precise, while the weight of the weapon seemed to be one with his arm.

Every gesture was tried and tested again to reach the point of balance between mind and body, so that the emotions did not overwhelm the lucidity that he had to maintain. That was the first step of training: taming adolescent instincts and preparing a proactive mentality.

After completing that part, Shirei began the actual training, holding the Blade of Discord in both hands.

Every gesture was calculated, the perfect representation of a river flowing unhindered. He began with basic drills, focusing on slashing and deflecting dummy attacks, sliding the blade through the air with frightening precision.

The sound of metal cutting through the air was subtle and almost disturbing, like a distorted whisper in the placid nature. It was a weapon born of darkness, and the power Shirei felt coursing through it enveloped him completely.

He continued moving through the trees.

A technique he often used to train was to imagine a large number of enemies who had surrounded him and cornered him.

The blade vibrated with each strike, making an ominous sound, like an echo.

The leaves of the trees reacted to his movements, while a breeze rose every time the weapon grazed the air. It seemed that nature wanted to participate in his training, responding to the presence of the Blade of Discord.

Is it possible that some nymphs are here? The demigod wondered, This should be their territory and would be in line with what I read in the books at Cragar's palace.

Shirei decided not to worry too much and continued on.

As time passed, his movements became faster and more cynical. The cuts created increasingly deeper wounds in his imagination.

He began to lose track of time as his concentration sharpened more and more.

The blows, previously studied and measured, transformed into an uninterrupted sequence of attacks that only an expert demigod could have defended. The blade cut through the air with such speed that it seemed like a flash of ghostly light flashing through the trees.

His mind was now totally immersed in training.

Each blow was accompanied by a series of fleeting thoughts, reflections that passed through him like waves.

Perfecting his technique wasn't just a physical matter: it meant finding balance between control and chaos.

It was like dancing on the edge of a precipice without ever falling.

The sun began to sink behind the treetops, casting long, menacing shadows across the clearing. The atmosphere became darker, and the forest was cloaked in an increasing darkness, which seemed to reflect the essence of Shirei.

But he didn't stop.

Every muscle in his body was tense, the fatigue was starting to make itself felt, but there was a part of him that refused to slow down. His mind was buzzing, fueled by the desire to overcome his limits.

Again, again, again and again.

He would become even stronger.

He unleashed a series of blows at a frenetic pace. Each time the blade plunged into the air, its greenish reflection briefly illuminated Shirei's face, highlighting the intensity in her violet eyes.

His hands began to feel tired, the muscles in his arms shaking slightly. But there was something inside him that pushed him to continue.

He remembered the days spent in the Underworld, the meaningless battles he had faced, the monsters he had cruelly slain.

The feeling of not being enough still tormented him.

Fear irritated him. It scratched the surface of his body every time he fought, but Shirei wouldn't let it in.

He couldn't afford to be weak.

Calm. I just need to stay calm.

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He continued to fight against his invisible enemies, as if trying to vent the accumulated thoughts through the force of his blows. He wanted to prove, to himself and to anyone watching him, that he could master any shot.

Shirei was different. He didn't think of himself as special, but he knew he was not the same as all the demigods in Lilies Park.

I doubt anyone here doesn't know anything about their past.

Time continued to pass, but it no longer had any meaning for Shirei. Sunset turned to twilight, and then to deep night. The forest, once quiet and serene, was now enveloped in the calm fervor of a boy who lived in the purest darkness. Only the greenish light of the Blade of Discord still shone perpetually, like a lone lighthouse in a sea of darkness.

Shirei paused only for a moment, catching his breath.

His purple eyes glittering in the night, illuminated by the faint light of his weapon. His breathing was heavy, his body tense from physical exertion, but he still had an idea that he wanted to put into practice.

He had been mentally working on a new technique for days, an extension of the Spectral Travel, which would allow him to transport only a part of his body through the Interworld, maintaining contact with the real world.

Thanks to you, Marina, I really will become a ghost, it seems.

If he could master that power, if it was possible, he would be able to pass through obstacles such as trees or walls without disappearing completely, becoming an ethereal, intangible being.

It was a form of semi-transportation between the two worlds, but it required absolute concentration. Classic Spectral Travel, which he used to travel between the Interworld and the real world, made him disappear entirely.

That new approach, however, needed control to divide its essence without fragmenting his body.

Shirei wasn't really interested in the risks, but rather in the good versatility and incredible power he could theoretically exploit.

A leap into the void.

He closed his eyes and began to concentrate. He visualized the tree in front of him, imagining himself walking through it like a ghost. He took a deep breath, then lunged forward, trying to send one part of his body into the Interworld while the other remained in the real world.

The impact was immediate.

Shirei felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder, where he had crashed into the hard bark of the tree.

He fell to the ground, his breath taken away.

The failure had not been complete, he had simply failed to activate the spectral travel.

He hadn't achieved the intangibility he was looking for.

He stood up, his side aching. He didn't want to give up. He just had to correct his approach, focus his energy better. He took another breath of air and tried again, this time trying to slow down at the last minute. He felt the 'chill' of the Interworld envelop his body, and as he advanced towards the tree, he seemed for an instant to be able to carry his arm beyond the surface of the trunk.

But then something went wrong. His body suddenly materialized and, once again, he hit the wood forcefully, falling to his knees.

He had failed again, but he had still made excellent progress.

He continued and caused himself new pain and as many bruises. He rubbed his sore arm, looking at the tree as if it was one of the invisible enemies he faced in his training.

He had visualized the technique in his mind over and over again, but his execution was very different from how he had imagined it.

He decided to try another approach.

Maybe the key is to move faster, or maybe slower.

He tried different combinations, but every time the result was the same: he crashed into a tree.

As the minutes passed, he began to wonder what he could do to achieve his goal.

Sitting against a tree, his back aching and his hands scratched, Shirei closed his eyes and breathed slowly, trying to calm himself.

I'm working wrong. This technique must act as a further way to avoid attacks, an immediate line of defense, but instead I try to exploit it already as I would in battle. I have to start from scratch.

His hands trembled as he braced himself and pushed himself off the ground. An internal voice suggested him to give up, to let it go for that night, but the demigod knew that he would not find peace until he managed to use that technique at least once.

He was always dominated by calm but, like all young people of his age, he did not prefer long waits.

He wanted to succeed in everything and he wanted to do it immediately.

Being in motion affects my concentration, so for now I should try it while standing still. The problem is that I can't verify whether it works that way.

The sky above the forest was now a black carpet dotted with stars, and the only visible light was that of Shirei's acid green blade which, with a gesture on his part, disappeared again into the Interworld. The twilight had become full night, and with it the tiredness in his body had also descended.

It was time to stop, at least for the moment. Forcing further attempts would only make his situation worse.

I need an external person who can help me. Maybe I should ask Dalia, she certainly doesn't lack free time.

Shirei stopped for a moment, observing the silent forest around him, as if to gather a last shred of energy from the surrounding calm.

With a deep breath, he activated true spectral travel, seeing darkness envelop his body. This time, the transition brought him no sense of triumph or satisfaction. He made a tired and heavy, almost mechanical movement as he walked through the dimension in between to return to the Thirteenth House. The darkness of the Interworld seemed to reflect his mood, dark and full of tiredness.

When he resurfaced, the Thirteenth House was there, as silent as the world around him. The lights were off, and everything seemed immersed in an unreal quiet.

Shirei crossed the threshold of the house, trying not to make any noise. He entered the small room he shared with his half-sister Dalia, finding her already fast asleep in her bed. Her relaxed sleeping figure offered Shirei unexpected comfort. The little girl, with long wavy black hair framing her pale face, seemed so calm, completely unaware of the struggles that demigods in the mortal world faced every night.

Gently, he approached and tucked her in, covering her shoulders better. A simple gesture, but one that contained all the protection and affection that Shirei felt for her. Even though they weren't real brothers, there was a bond between them that he would never allow to be broken.

“Goodnight, sister,” he whispered softly.

After finishing, the purple-eyed boy reached his bed and sat down, feeling the accumulated tiredness crushing him like an unbearable weight. He lay down and closed his eyes, letting his mind gradually empty of his thoughts. But before sleep could take him, a face crossed his mind: Marina.

The girl with blue eyes and blonde bob hair was smiling at him, even if he didn't know exactly why. He wanted to talk to her, perhaps share his thoughts with her, or simply listen to her voice. He had never found it easy to talk to others, but she seemed to understand his asociality. Her eyes showed no hostility towards him, a trait that Cragar's son had only observed in her.

You're lucky, Dalia. You have found a great friend.

With that thought, Shirei rolled onto his stomach and let Tefine's embrace lull him into the realm of dreams.