Two days from now, we'll be there. Resist... and everyone dies."

Those words still echoed in Zayn's mind.

Since the moment he walked away from the bandits' camp, every step he took had been calculated.

They didn't just threaten him.

They made a promise.

A deadly one.

But Zayn didn't panic.

He had already made his plan.

He didn't go home. Not right away.

Instead, he disappeared into the outskirts of the village, walking paths no one else used. He examined every inch of the defensive points—where the walls bent, where the lookout posts were blind, where the wooden spikes had rotted away with time.

The north entrance was weak.

The southeast slope was completely open.

And the main gate? With enough force, it would collapse in ten seconds.

He ran the numbers in his mind like a seasoned general.

The village could last twenty-five minutes at best.

But this fight wasn't just about a village.

It was a battle of will, and it would be fought in silence.

He had already chosen his pieces.

His siblings.

And without revealing the truth, without showing the full picture, he'd simply said:

"Meet me in the woods."

And they had come.

That morning, in a quiet clearing surrounded by thick trees, three figures stood.

Kael was warming up his arms, always more brawn than talk.

Selia rubbed her hands together, focused and sharp.

Zayn stood a few steps away, eyes closed.

Not a single word had been said yet.

Then he opened his eyes and stepped toward Kael.

"Hand out. Palm up."

Kael raised a brow, but followed the instruction.

Zayn reached out, fingertips lightly pressing into Kael's palm.

And in that moment—he felt it.

Not just mana.

A specific kind.

It wasn't clinging to the muscles. It was flowing through them.

Alive. Reactive. Controlled by instinct.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

This wasn't ordinary.

This was the mark of a magical blade wielder.

He took a deep breath and looked Kael straight in the eyes.

"You're different," he said.

Kael frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Zayn replied, stepping back, "that your body doesn't just move with muscle. It moves with mana.

If you train properly... every strike you make can hit like a spell."

Kael was quiet, his chest rising slowly.

He didn't smile.

He just nodded.

And Zayn moved on.

Next was Selia.

"Your turn," he said.

She hesitated slightly but extended her hands.

Zayn placed his fingers lightly along her wrists and closed his eyes.

Warm. Gentle.

But not passive.

Flowing. Pulsing. Intuitive.

It wasn't trying to harm or block.

It was reaching outward.

"You feel that?" he asked softly.

Selia nodded with her eyes still closed. "It's like... warmth, but it keeps slipping away."

"You're not meant to hold it. Not yet," Zayn said. "Just watch it. Let it guide you.

This is healing mana. You were born with it.

And if you learn to control it... you could bring people back from the edge."

Selia pulled her hands back slightly. "Me?"

Zayn gave her a small, rare smile.

"It's not my opinion. Your body already knows."

The first day of training began.

Kael worked with a wooden blade. Zayn didn't just correct his form—he showed him how to sync his breathing with his mana. How to move with energy, not against it.

At first, Kael was clumsy.

But as the sun climbed and their movements repeated, his strikes grew sharper.

His steps smoother.

Until—finally—a swing of his sword sliced clean through a hanging branch.

No noise.

Just raw force channeled through silence.

Kael stared at his own hands. "That was me?"

Zayn nodded. "And it's only the beginning."

Selia's path was different.

Zayn guided her through herbal mixtures, shallow cuts, and the basic techniques of mana flow.

She learned to transfer energy into water, to pull heat from her fingertips, to still the trembling in her hands.

By the time the sky turned orange, she'd stopped a shallow wound on Zayn's arm with a single touch.

It wasn't perfect, but it was progress.

And, more importantly, she felt it.

She smiled faintly, her breath slow.

"You felt it, didn't you?" Zayn asked.

She nodded. This time without hesitation.

That night, Zayn sat alone beneath the trees.

The campfire crackled low nearby, but his eyes weren't on it.

They stared into the dark.

Kael didn't know.

Selia didn't know.

No one knew.

That in just two days, the village would be under attack.

And by the time they realized it, it would already be too late.

Unless his plan worked.

> "They don't need to know," he thought.

"I'll get them ready. Quietly. Precisely.

Every move… every moment... accounted for."

He stood, brushing dust from his hands, and looked toward the northern trail.

The direction from which death would come.

> "Two days is more than enough."

And with that, he disappeared into the shadows—

Just like the power he was preparing to unleas