The world was quiet again.
The forest no longer burned, though its scars still whispered of the battle that had torn through it. The smell of char and sap lingered faintly in the wind — a reminder of what they'd survived, and what still lay ahead.
Hunnt and Pyro walked side by side through the softened terrain, ash crunching beneath their boots and paws. Overhead, the sky stretched wide and pale, a perfect canvas for thoughts too heavy to speak.
When the sun reached its peak, they stopped near a narrow stream that wove between the roots of broken trees. Pyro stretched with a groan and flopped down on a rock. "Nyaaah… my paws aren't meant for walking forever, Master."
Hunnt smirked faintly. "Then it's good you're built for fighting."
Pyro's tail flicked. "You say that every time you want me to stop complaining."
Hunnt chuckled, kneeling by the stream to wash his hands. The water was cold enough to bite, clearing the dust and fatigue from his skin. As he lifted his gaze to the sky, a familiar memory stirred — the wyvern's shadow cutting across the clouds, untouchable.
He clenched his fists. That fight proved one thing — power means nothing if I can't reach my enemy.
He turned toward Pyro. "I'm starting new training today."
Pyro perked an ear. "Another technique, nya? You already have three that break bones and physics."
Hunnt smiled. "And you've learned all three — Soru, Tekkai, and Kami-e. But there's more."
Pyro blinked. "More?"
"Three more, actually. You've only seen half the Rokushiki."
Pyro's mouth fell open. "Nyaaah—half?! You mean I've been out here doing half the work this whole time?!"
Hunnt laughed softly. "You didn't ask."
"That's cheating," Pyro muttered, arms crossed.
Hunnt brushed a line in the dirt with a stick, sketching a figure and arrows pointing upward. "The next one's called Geppo — though I prefer to call it Skywalk."
"Skywalk?" Pyro echoed. "You're joking. That sounds like something out of a fairy tale."
"It's real," Hunnt said, standing. "Skywalk lets you jump off the air itself. If mastered, you can move freely in the sky — not fly, but walk where the wind allows."
Pyro squinted. "You can't jump off air, nya. It's… air."
Hunnt grinned. "Then I'll prove it's possible."
---
He began immediately.
Feet planted, breath steady, he crouched slightly. "Skywalk is about control — power, timing, and stamina. You compress the air beneath your foot and push as if the air were solid."
Pyro tilted his head. "So basically, you're trying to kick nothing really hard?"
Hunnt smirked. "Exactly."
He leapt, kicked downward, and dropped like a stone.
Thud.
Pyro clapped lazily. "Ten out of ten landing, nya."
Hunnt dusted himself off. "Every technique starts with falling."
"Then you're already a master," Pyro said with a straight face.
Hunnt chuckled, shaking his head.
---
The days that followed blended into one another.
They journeyed through the recovering forest by morning and trained by afternoon.
Every clearing became a training ground.
Hunnt jumped, kicked, and fell.
Again and again.
The first few attempts left him bruised and breathless. Each strike at the air felt pointless — the air refused him.
Pyro would sit on a rock, tail swaying, voice flat. "Still not walking, nya."
Hunnt would grin through the pain. "Not yet."
---
By the end of the first week, a faint change came.
Each jump lasted a little longer — the air beginning to resist his strikes, as if noticing his persistence. He still fell, but not as fast.
Pyro watched closely. "You actually stayed up for a blink that time."
Hunnt smirked. "A blink's the start of an eternity."
The work was brutal. Skywalk drained stamina faster than any technique he'd ever learned. The strain in his legs burned like fire, each breath feeling heavier than the last.
But he didn't stop.
---
A week passed, then two.
Their path took them through valleys and over ridges.
Each night, Hunnt practiced under the stars — leaping against the darkness, chasing the sky itself.
His movements grew sharper. His control steadier. The air began to feel thick beneath his boots, like invisible ground waiting to catch him.
Pyro stopped teasing him after that. He watched instead — quiet, thoughtful.
One morning, as sunlight filtered through thin clouds, Hunnt kicked off the air twice in succession. The second strike held.
For half a breath, he was suspended — weightless, untethered, free.
When he landed, his boots touched the earth with barely a sound.
Pyro's eyes widened. "Nyaaah… you actually did it!"
Hunnt exhaled, smiling. "Not for long, but yes. It's a start."
Pyro crossed his arms, trying not to look impressed. "I still think the name 'Skywalk' is showing off."
Hunnt laughed. "You'll change your mind when you learn it."
---
That night, camped beneath a rising moon, Pyro leaned back by the fire, arms behind his head. "So that's what you were chasing all month, huh? The sky."
Hunnt nodded quietly. "It's not just about height. It's about freedom. Up there, you're beyond reach — no ground, no chains."
Pyro yawned. "Freedom sounds exhausting."
Hunnt chuckled softly. "Everything worth having is."
Pyro opened one eye. "And you're really gonna keep training this Skywalk until you can do it in your sleep, nya?"
Hunnt smiled faintly. "Until I can do it without thinking."
Pyro sighed, tail curling lazily. "You humans never rest."
Hunnt looked toward the stars. "We rest when the sky runs out."
The fire crackled between them, warm and alive.
---
A soft wind drifted through camp, stirring embers into brief constellations.
Hunnt watched them rise and fade, each spark a small echo of the countless leaps he'd made that day. The air around him still felt alive — quietly aware, like the world itself was watching him learn to touch it.
He closed his eyes and listened.
Somewhere in that silence, he felt a faint vibration — not from the ground, but above.
It was the same resonance that once made monsters kneel, now gentler, calmer — a heartbeat folded into the wind. His will was learning to move with the sky instead of against it.
He breathed out slowly, a rare smile touching his face. "Almost there."
Pyro was already asleep, tail twitching in dream.
Hunnt leaned back against the tree, eyes tracing the stars through the branches.
The moon hung high, patient and silver.
And far above, where clouds glimmered faintly, the air trembled once — a single, silent step.
The first true step to the sky.