The courtyard was no longer quiet.
At dawn, the air in Ryugami Valley shimmered with raw energy. Wind stirred the ancient dust as Kaien stood, gripping a real training blade now—polished iron instead of weathered wood. Across from him, standing on a stone slab iced over in the middle of summer, was Lady Yuki Himetsuru.
She had arrived alone.
No guards. No carriage. No words.
Just that same piercing, frost-edged stare.
Her presence made the air feel colder, but Kaien didn't shiver. He couldn't afford to—not when the legacy of his clan, and the fire in his blood, depended on her judgment.
"Your stance is off," she said, stepping behind him without warning. She placed her hand on his shoulder—icy fingers correcting his posture. "Dragonborns are too used to raw strength. You need balance. Precision. Control."
Kaien narrowed his eyes. "Dragons don't need balance to win."
She stepped away. "And that's why they fell."
The words hit harder than her magic ever could. The fall of the Ryugami Clan was a wound in history—betrayed in the Age of Five Clans, their dragonfire sealed, their bloodline shamed.
Kaien bit his lip. "Then I'll prove dragons can rise again."
"Show me, then," Yuki said coolly, lifting her hand.
From her palm, frost bloomed.
With a single graceful motion, she summoned a blade of pure ice—shaped like a longsword, glowing with ancient runes that shimmered like stars trapped in crystal. It hovered in the air before her, spinning slowly, waiting.
Kaien's breath caught. That… was Frostblade Technique: Cryo-Form One—a martial spell exclusive to the Himetsuru bloodline.
He knew she was going easy on him.
Still, he charged.
Blades clashed. Sparks danced. Ice met steel.
Kaien swung with speed, instinct, and dragon-fueled fury, but Yuki moved like a whisper, parrying with elegance that bordered on cruel. For every strike he landed, she returned three. His palms blistered. His chest burned. But he refused to stop.
"You're not using your dragon aura," she noted, as if disappointed.
Kaien gritted his teeth. "I don't know how to control it."
Yuki paused. "Then let me teach you."
He blinked. "What?"
"The Frostborn and Dragonborn were once allies, before the war. My clan knows more about your kind than even your own elders."
"I don't have elders," Kaien muttered. "They're all dead. Or in hiding."
Yuki's expression softened—for the first time.
"…Then I'll be your elder," she said quietly. "Until the entrance trials."
Kaien didn't know what to say.
But that wasn't the last surprise of the day.
As their training ended, and the sun dipped low behind the peaks, a sharp screech split the sky. Both heads snapped up. A black falcon—eyes glowing red—spiraled down, clutching a scroll sealed in obsidian wax.
Yuki caught it midair.
Her hands trembled slightly as she opened it.
Kaien watched her ice-cold expression shift… into something even colder.
"What is it?"
She looked at him, unreadable.
"The entrance trials at the Grand Martial Sanctum… have been moved forward. Seven days from now."
"That's not a problem," Kaien said.
She shook her head. "It is. They've also changed the location."
"To where?"
"…To the Ruins of Kōryū."
Kaien froze. Even he had heard of that place—where the last true Dragon King was sealed after the betrayal. A cursed land, saturated with remnants of forbidden magic and beasts that devoured spirit energy.
"They want to see who survives," Yuki whispered.
Kaien's heart thumped. "That's not a trial… that's a bloodbath."
She nodded. "The Five Great Clans are sending their prodigies. But none of them will survive unless they learn to fight as more than clans."
"And you think we can?"
"I think we must," she replied, stepping closer, voice lower now. "Because I saw something else in that scroll."
She unfolded it further, revealing a symbol scorched into the parchment.
A flaming eye surrounded by black vines.
Kaien's pupils shrank. "…The Cult of Ashborn?"
"They're hunting bloodlines again," she whispered. "And they know you exist."