Even with the sting of defeat still fresh on his brow, Mateo was smiling. He rose slowly, his body still aching from the fall, but his spirit lighter than it had been in many days. Nai helped him up, and their eyes met—there was pride and respect there, far more than any rivalry.

"Good fight," they said in unison, a soft laugh escaping their tired lips.

Their hands clasped firmly, marking another step on the journey they shared. It was as if, in that brief moment of duel, they had both seen how much they had grown. And not just in strength or skill—but as people. Wounded, but alive. Shattered, but rebuilding together.

Salda watched from a distance, arms crossed and expression thoughtful. There was a glint in her eyes—not just pride, but surprise. That kind of talent, that growth in such a short time… was rare. And perhaps even dangerous, if not guided carefully.

"You two are becoming frighteningly strong," she said, approaching. "For your age… well, you've already surpassed many adults I know."

Mateo and Nai smiled faintly, without excessive pride. There was too much pain inside them for arrogance to have any room.

After a rest period, Salda gathered them in the main room of the house. The fireplace crackled softly, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The tone of the conversation, however, was serious.

"I received a letter," Salda began, handing over the crumpled envelope. "It came directly from Britain Castle. The king wants to speak with you both. About the project... and about your parents."

Mateo's eyes widened. The name "project" had been hammering in his mind since that conversation between the maid and the gang leader. Something obscure, shrouded in secrets... and now the king himself wanted to discuss it?

Beside him, Nai froze. The words "your parents" had pierced her soul like daggers. The memory of the blood, the screams, the emptiness… was still too fresh. And now the king wanted her to take over the family business? It sounded like an unbearable burden.

"I don't want to inherit anything from them…" she murmured, her fists clenched. "I want to destroy what caused this. I want to bury the gang with my own hands."

"I understand," said Mateo, looking at her with understanding. "But maybe we'll find the answers we need there."

After a long silence, the two nodded. Going to the castle might be risky, but it was necessary. Perhaps this visit was the next step they needed to take.

They would leave in the morning.

The sky was still gray when the carriage left the gates of Salda's estate. Nai remained silent, her face leaning against the window frame, watching the fields rush by. Mateo was restless. His Ki vibrated strangely—as if anticipating something.

And then, as they approached a forest both knew well, the air grew thicker.

Mateo's eyes widened. He knew that presence.

"No… it can't be…" he whispered.

A chill ran down his spine. The smell. The energy. It was as if death itself was dragging itself through the forest, hungry and alive.

"Nai… he's here."

She didn't need to ask who.

The trees became dark blurs as the carriage slowed down. The coachman also sensed something wrong and stopped, nervous.

On the other side of the road, among the bushes and shadows, crimson eyes watched them.

The cursed wolf.

Its torn skin, its burnt fur, scars like maps of war. It was him. The same creature Mateo had faced when he was just an abandoned child, lost and afraid. But now… now he was someone different.

Mateo stepped out of the carriage calmly. His heart was racing, but his breathing was firm. The Ki around him vibrated intensely, as if whispering: *kill, destroy, consume.*

He heard the voice inside himself—not as a thought, but as a deep roar, coming from the very core of the blessing.

"He must die."

The wolf growled, muscles tensed to attack. Mateo clenched his fists, enveloped them with Ki, and focused his power in the palm of his hand. For weeks he had trained. Air compression. Explosion. Oxygen as a conductor. Fire.

"Now it's different…" he said in a low voice.

With an almost imperceptible snap, a fireball formed in Mateo's hand. It didn't tremble, it didn't falter. It was hot, dense, and alive.

He threw it without hesitation.

The explosion illuminated the forest for a second, making the leaves shudder with the impact. The wolf howled in pain, but didn't fall. It still came with blind fury.

Nai already had her sword drawn.

"I'll finish it," she said, cold as the blade in her hand.

She leaped with impressive agility, spinning in the air. A single cut. Clean. Fast. Lethal.

The wolf's body fell with a dull thud, and the forest plunged into silence.

Mateo approached the corpse, watching for a moment. He felt no fear. No guilt. He felt... balance.

"It was just another ghost from the past," he whispered.

"And ghosts…" Nai finished, cleaning her sword, "...shouldn't stop us from moving forward."

They returned to the carriage, no longer as fugitives. But as something closer to warriors.

Destiny awaited them at Britain Castle.

And the world… was about to change.