Eira’s gaze swept over Lyria and Ren as they stood before her on the training grounds. The afternoon sun cast long shadows, and the air was heavy with anticipation. Lyria crossed her arms, a slight scowl on her face, while Ren fidgeted with excitement.

"Today," Eira began, her tone commanding, "we’re covering martial arts—judo, boxing, and swordsmanship. All of them are critical for combat versatility."

Ren’s face lit up. "Finally! I’ve always wanted to learn how to sword fight. And boxing? This is going to be fun."

Lyria, however, groaned. "Eira, do I really have to do this? I’ve already trained in all of these."

Eira’s sharp gaze landed on her. "You might know the basics, but perfection is a lifetime effort. Besides, you’ll be sparring with Ren, and he’s starting from scratch."

Ren smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "What’s the matter, Lyria? Afraid I might show you up?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Don’t get ahead of yourself."

Ren stepped closer, leaning slightly toward her. "Oh, come on. Maybe you’re just scared I’ll pick this up faster than you think. Who knows? I might even be better than you by the end of this."

Her jaw tightened, a spark of irritation flashing in her eyes. "Fine," she said, stepping into the training circle. "Let’s see how well you ‘pick it up.’"


Eira picked up a dummy and wasted no time demonstrating a simple throw, explaining the importance of using your opponent’s momentum against them. Lyria executed it perfectly, flipping Eira’s demonstration dummy to the ground with practiced ease.

"Showoff," Ren muttered under his breath before stepping up.

Eira paired them off, and Ren, with an eager grin, faced Lyria. He lunged clumsily, attempting to grab her. She sidestepped effortlessly, using his momentum to throw him to the ground with a loud thud.

"Ow," Ren groaned, lying flat on his back.

"Not so easy, is it?" Lyria said, smirking as she offered him a hand.

Ren took it, pulling himself up. "Okay, okay. Maybe there’s more to this than I thought." He squared up again, determination flaring in his eyes.

This time, under Lyria’s guidance, he managed a half-decent throw. Eira nodded approvingly. "Better. Keep your balance next time, Ren. Lyria, make sure he doesn’t slack off."

"Gladly," Lyria replied, throwing Ren another taunting look. They practiced for a few hours


Next, Eira moved on to boxing basics. She showed them how to throw a proper punch, dodge, and keep their guard up.

Ren tried to mimic her, but his punches were wide and uncoordinated. Lyria watched for a moment, then sighed.

"Here, let me help," she said, stepping in front of him. She adjusted his stance, guiding his fists into the correct position. "Keep your elbows in. You’re leaving yourself wide open."

Ren glanced at her, a playful smirk on his face. "Careful, Lyria. If you’re too nice, I might actually get good at this."

"That’s the idea," she replied dryly.

With Lyria’s guidance, Ren’s punches started to improve. He landed a few solid hits on the punching dummy, turning to Lyria with a triumphant grin.

"Not bad, huh?" he said, wiping sweat from his brow.

Lyria shrugged. "You’re getting there. But don’t get cocky."

"Is that your way of admitting I’m a fast learner?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don’t push your luck."

They practiced for a few hours

Finally, Eira handed them wooden training swords. "Swordsmanship isn’t just about strength," she explained. "It’s about precision, timing, and control."

Ren struggled at first, his swings wild and unbalanced. Lyria, on the other hand, moved with practiced ease, her strikes fluid and precise.

"Showoff," Ren muttered again as she demonstrated a perfect parry.

"Maybe you should pay more attention," she shot back, smirking. "You might learn something."

Ren’s response was to lunge at her with a clumsy swing. Lyria sidestepped effortlessly, tapping his shoulder with the flat of her blade.

"Point," she said, her grin widening.

"Ugh," Ren groaned. "How are you so good at this?"

"Years of practice," she replied smugly.

Eira interrupted their banter. "Ren, focus on your footwork. Lyria, stop toying with him and help him improve."

"Yes, ma’am," they both said in unison, though Lyria’s voice was laced with amusement.they practiced for a few hours

As the session ended, Ren flopped onto the grass, exhausted but exhilarated. Lyria sat beside him, her arms resting on her knees.

"You’re not terrible," she admitted after a moment.

Ren raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Was that a compliment?"

"Don’t let it go to your head," she said, smirking.

He grinned. "Too late."

Eira approached, her expression as unreadable as ever. "You both did well today. Ren, keep practicing. Lyria, don’t get complacent."

As she walked away, Ren turned to Lyria, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, tomorrow—another round? Maybe I’ll actually beat you at something."

Lyria laughed, shaking her head. "Keep dreaming, Ren. You’ve got a long way to go."

As they sat catching their breath, Ren, still grinning, glanced over at Lyria. "You know," he said, his tone softer now, "you’re not just good at this—you’re really good. It’s... kinda impressive."

Lyria turned to him, her brow arching suspiciously. "Is that another compliment? You’re full of surprises today."

Ren, still grinning from his last cheeky remark, shifted slightly closer to Lyria. He glanced at her hand resting on the grass and—taking what he would later describe as a "calculated risk"—placed his hand gently over hers.

The back of her hand felt soft and warm, and for a moment, he almost forgot why he’d done it in the first place.

Lyria, however, froze. Her mind raced at lightning speed. What is he doing?! Why is his hand on mine?!

Her eyes darted to their hands, then to Ren’s face. The usual smug grin wasn’t there. Instead, his expression was unusually calm, almost... gentle? She blinked, her thoughts spinning. Why isn’t he smirking? He’s kinda cute like this... Wait, no, stop. What am I even thinking?

Her face began to heat up. This idiot! Who does he think he is? Why can’t I just tell him to stop?!

Ren, oblivious to the storm in her head, couldn’t help but notice her face turning red.

Finally, Lyria yanked her hand away, nearly toppling backward in the process. Her face was now a deep shade of crimson.

Ren chuckled, leaning back on his hands. "Wow, look at you. Someone’s blushing."

"Shut up!" Lyria snapped, her voice higher-pitched than usual. She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Don’t you dare do something like that again, or I’ll—I’ll tell Aunt Eira!"

Ren smirked, tilting his head. "And what’s Master Eira going to do? Lecture me about hand placement?"

Before she could fire back, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, quick and light, before pulling back with a mischievous grin.

Lyria stared at him, stunned. Her brain seemed to short-circuit as Ren stood up, taking a step back. "Well, it’s only been one day," he said, his voice teasing, "but I guess I can’t live without you."

She shot to her feet, flustered beyond belief. "You—YOU—!"

But Ren was already laughing and bolting away. Using his power, he lowered his gravity, bounding across the field in massive, effortless leaps like a human grasshopper.

"Get back here, you idiot!" Lyria shouted, her fists clenched. She took a step forward, fully intending to chase him down, but stopped, her face still burning. What is wrong with me? Why am I still blushing?!

Ren, now at a safe distance, turned mid-leap to wave at her, his laughter echoing. "Good night, Lyria! Sweet dreams!"

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I’m going to kill him tomorrow. Definitely."