The secluded clearing deep in the forest was quiet except for the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. Sayuri stood at the center, her arms crossed as she eyed Kaito critically.

“If you’re serious about mastering the relic,” she said, “then we need to start now. But understand this: the relic isn’t just a weapon. It’s a living thing. It will fight you if it thinks you’re unworthy.”

Kaito frowned, gripping the hilt of the blade tightly. “How do I prove myself?”

Sayuri’s expression softened, but only slightly. “You don’t prove yourself to it. You prove yourself through it.”

At her signal, Kaito drew the blade. The whispers returned immediately, louder and more insistent. The blade pulsed with heat, and flames began to lick its edges.

“Focus,” Sayuri instructed, circling him. “The relic’s power responds to your emotions. Fear, anger, doubt—they’ll consume you if you let them.”

Kaito closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. The heat of the flames grew unbearable, and the whispers became a deafening roar. Memories that weren’t his own surged through his mind—battles, betrayal, and endless fire.

He cried out, the blade slipping from his grasp and embedding itself in the ground. The flames extinguished instantly, leaving only the faint glow of the emblem.

Sayuri approached, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. “This is only the beginning, Kaito. You’ll fail a hundred times before you succeed. But if you give up, the relic will devour you.”

Kaito picked up the blade, his hands trembling. “I won’t give up,” he said, more to himself than to her.

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The training ground buzzed with murmurs as Kaito returned, the relic concealed beneath his cloak. His sparring session with Ryo had drawn more attention than he’d realized, and now the clan’s eyes seemed to follow his every move.

“Kaito,” Genji called, intercepting him. “Where have you been? And what’s with all the secrecy?”

“I’ve just been... training,” Kaito said, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

Genji frowned. “Training with who? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the silver-haired stranger hanging around. The elders are starting to ask questions.”

Kaito hesitated, the weight of the relic pressing heavily on his mind. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

But Genji grabbed his arm, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “You’re my friend, Kaito. If something’s going on, you can tell me. I can help.”

Before Kaito could respond, a sharp voice interrupted.

“Friends, are we?” Ryo stepped forward, his smirk as infuriating as ever. “You’ve got an odd way of showing loyalty, sneaking off and hiding things from your clan.”

“Back off, Ryo,” Genji said, stepping between them.

Ryo laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. “Don’t worry, Genji. I’m not here to fight. But you’d better watch yourself, Kaito. Whatever you’re hiding won’t stay hidden for long.”

Far from the Crimson Talon’s compound, a dark fortress loomed on the edge of a desolate wasteland. Inside, the leader of the Hunters of Ash stood before a massive map, his hands clasped behind his back.

“We failed to retrieve the relic,” one of his lieutenants reported, bowing low.

The leader turned slowly, his piercing amber eyes glowing faintly. “No,” he said, his voice calm but edged with menace. “We didn’t fail. We found the boy.”

“But he escaped,” the lieutenant argued. “And the relic remains out of our reach.”

The leader’s lips curled into a smile. “For now. But the Emblem of Ash doesn’t choose lightly. The boy’s connection to it will lead him to us—or destroy him in the process.”

He stepped closer to the map, tracing a line toward the Crimson Talon’s territory. “Send the Shadowcloaks. Keep the clan distracted while we prepare. And when the time is right...”

He paused, his gaze distant. “We’ll take back what was stolen from us.”

Back in the clearing, Kaito stood before Sayuri once more, the blade glowing faintly in his hands.

“This time,” Sayuri said, “don’t fight the relic. Let it guide you.”

Kaito nodded, his grip steady. He closed his eyes and focused, tuning out the whispers and the heat. Slowly, the flames emerged again, but this time they didn’t overwhelm him. They danced along the blade’s edge, controlled and precise.

“Good,” Sayuri said, a hint of approval in her voice. “Now, channel it.”

Kaito swung the blade, and a wave of fire erupted, carving a clean line through the clearing. When he lowered the weapon, his chest heaved, but a flicker of pride shone in his eyes.

“You’re beginning to understand,” Sayuri said. “But don’t get complacent. This is only a fraction of what the relic can do.”

Kaito sheathed the blade, his determination renewed. “I’ll master it. I have to.”