The morning after his humiliating "touch-the-knee" defeat began with a new kind of fire in Raiden's chest.
He wasn't angry anymore — not exactly. Mostly he was just… determined.
If Sir Leonard could kick him unconscious with a smirk, fine. Raiden would just get strong enough to kick back someday in the distant future.
He rose early, washed up, and met Kent in the training yard just as dawn broke.
Kent was already swinging his sword, movements sharp and graceful. He noticed Raiden approaching and smiled faintly.
"Didn't think you'd be up this early after what happened yesterday," Kent teased.
Raiden grinned, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm still sore, but I'm alive. So I figured — why waste the pain?"
Kent laughed softly. "You sound like Sir Leonard already."
"Don't curse me."
The brothers squared off. Kent rested his sword casually on his shoulder, while Raiden planted his feet and took the stance Leonard had drilled into him for days.
