As Araka was able to trace down the sound of the wind, on the opposite side of the courtyard, the three instructors remained seated with their eyes closed.

“So Araka seems to have passed the first sequence,” Yon channeled to Kinekama and Huashin: “Her field has successfully directed itself toward the wind I created earlier. Master Kinekama, what would be your assessment?”

Kinekama remained still. “From this sequence alone, I can tell that the auditory component of Araka’s Matake field is already well developed, likely because that was the part of her Matake ability that developed earliest.”

“That’s true, Master Kinekama,” Huashin channeled, “She was able to communicate with Matake-capable beings even before her field reached anything close to its current potential.”

Kinekama gave a small nod. “That gives her an advantage, though -” as the conversation continued, her expression became more thoughtful: “If Araka wants to acquire the spell we’re developing, she needs to become more than a good listener — she’ll need consistency and endurance”

Yon understood immediately and nodded.

— 

As soon as Araka was able to catch the rhythm of the wind, the market slowly vanished. Then, Araka found herself surrounded by nothing but darkness.

So that’s the next sequence, I guess, Araka thought.

Then, the rustling sound passed through her ear. Araka could sense it — somewhere in front of her, leaves shifted somewhere above her.

Then, the world of Jinka returned — this time, Araka was standing in the middle of a bamboo forest at night. Around her, tall bamboo stalks stretched high above her, overlapping until they concealed most of the sky. Only thin fragments of moonlight slipped between the leaves.

Araka looked around. She could barely see the path in front of her. She searched with her version first, and as expected, she found nothing other than bamboo, bushes, shadows. 

“If everything’s this dark, how am I supposed to find something that small in here?” Araka said to herself. 

Then, she remembered Yon’s instruction: maybe I shouldn’t rely on my usual senses.

With that in mind, instead of continuing her search, she closed her eyes and allowed her Matake field to expand.  

At first, it was the same as before — just bamboo forest and bushes.

Then, just around the corner, she sensed something faint but glowing.

Araka immediately turned her head, and eventually her Matake field sense landed on a tiny trace of warmth hidden behind a bush right beside her. 

“…There!” she opened her eyes.

A glowing golden bird.

“Found you,” Araka said. 

Araka took one step toward it. However, instead of embracing Araka, the bird immediately raised its head and flew away. 

“Wait!” Araka said out loud while running after it. 

The golden bird darted between the bamboo stalks, leaving only a faint trail behind it. It didn’t give any chance for Araka to take a break. 

Araka concentrated, and then for the first few moments, it worked — she could sense exactly where the bird was going.

Left.

Forward.

Right—

“There!”

Yet just before Araka could close in on the bird, she felt her steps become heavier as if she got stones tied on her legs. Eventually, Araka’s eyes began to sore, and a dull pressure developed behind her forehead — the harder Araka tried to pursue the bird, the more resistance she felt.

…This is exhausting, Araka said to herself, I couldn’t keep up with this in the Jinka. 

As Araka relaxed herself, however, the golden trace immediately weakened.

“No- ”

Araka immediately tightened her focus again, and this time, the bird became clear again, but it also accelerated.  

Araka frowned: if I tried harder, either I got stuck or the bird flew faster; but if I slack off, the bird will fly away. 

There had to be something I was doing wrong, Araka thought.

She then took several slow breaths, and eventually, an idea came forward. 

What if … the instructors are not testing whether I could find it — I’ve already proven that with the wind earlier, but whether I can create a consistent, durable Matake field. 

Then, she remembered something else: Ami, the girl she saved last year from her own unstable field that drained almost all her energy. It was made possible precisely because Araka had to adjust her field’s output to constantly synchronize with Ami’s.

Maybe I need to find a stable rhythm, and stay with it, Araka thought, just like how I handled my 1k race last year.

Araka then relaxed her shoulder and adjusted her field again — this time with less fluctuation. She narrowed her eyes slightly and held her focus steadily. Shortly after, the golden trace of the bird returned right behind a bamboo stalk. 

She then walked steadily toward the bird, and the bird flew one stalk away; then another, and the bird slowly moved forward — the back and forth became more dynamic as if Araka was dancing with the bird.

I … I finally felt it, Araka said to herself, and the soreness behind her eyes started to fade away. 

After several hops, the bird eventually descended into somewhere open — the bamboo stalks gave away to a small pond that reflected the night sky.

Araka followed it to the water’s edge.

For several seconds, the bird remained there, perched upon a stone in the middle of the pond. Then, its tiny head looked toward her.

I found you, Araka smiled and said to herself. 

Then, suddenly, the body of the bird dissolved into countless golden particles. The particles rose gently into the air, forming a small glowing cloud before fading into the darkness.

Araka, seeing the bird faded away, let out a long breath.

“So that’s the end of the second realm.”

Then the pond disappeared beneath her feet, and Araka’s vision became dark once again.

—

As soon as the second sequence ended, on the opposite side of the Jinka, a faint smile appeared on Yon’s face.

“No wonder Araka was able to work alongside Hakasa during the Milo crisis,” he said, “At least from what we’ve seen so far, her field can maintain a stable output on par with a systematically trained Matake user.”

Huashin, upon hearing, seemed pleased by the assessment.

She turned toward Kinekama: “Master Kinekama, what would be your assessment?”

Kinekama, however, didn’t immediately share their enthusiasm.

“She’s doing well,” Kinekama channeled while keeping her eyes closed, “But I still haven’t seen the part I’m most interested in yet.”

Huashin raised an eyebrow while keeping her eyes closed: “Which is?”

“Whether she can actually control the boundary of her field.”

Huashin and Yon didn’t respond. 

Kinekama continued: “In the second sequence, Araka successfully maintained her perception of the bird. That’s impressive on her own. But from what I could sense … for moments, she wasn’t consciously shaping every part of that perception.”

Huashin seemed to understand.

“Like her native field was doing some of it for her,” Huashin said. 

“Exactly,” Kinekama nodded and channeled: “After all, since Araka’s field was native, her field didn’t have to go through all these complex shrine training to become fine tuned — which itself is an extraordinary advantage. In some cases, she could just give an instruction to her field — like ‘go find this’, ‘keep low on that’ — and the field will adjust itself almost instinctively.”

“But Master Kinekama, I remember you said in the past instincts are not enough, if I recall,” Yon said. 

Kinekama nodded, and then her tone then became firmer.

“For a successful Matake sorcerer, having a good instinct isn’t the same as a good control — if Araka is to become a credible Matake sorcerer, she needs to know where her field begins, where it ends, and when something acting upon it is not her own intention.”

“And that’s what the third sequence is for,” Yon said. 

“Yes,” Kinekama rested both hands on her knees and said, “Especially for the vision spell — if Araka reacts to every signal, at best she’ll exhaust herself; at worst, if she blindly trusts whichever direction the field pulls her, it’s no longer her determine where she goes.”

She let the word settle.

“An improved perception means nothing if she can’t interpret what the field gives her.”

—

As Araka’s surroundings started to form again, she found herself standing inside a dry cave. Unlike the previous two sequences, there was almost nothing here: no market crowds, no moving target — only jagged rock stretched above her, while a narrow passage continued deeper underground.

“So I need to find the water source this time,” Araka repeated the goal in her mind. 

Without further hesitation, she started venturing deeper into the cave, with each of her footsteps echoed through the cave.

It didn’t take long for the passage to be divided into two.

“Alright… let’s see what my field tells me.” Araka stopped and extended her Matake field into both routes. At first, there was nothing, and then —

Dip, dip, dip 

“There!” Araka’s eyes looked toward the right passage, “That’s easier than I expected.”

The passage narrowed as she continued down the path on the right, eventually opening into a much larger cavern. The sound of water is clearer than ever, yet, Araka faced a strange obstacle in front of her. 

“…Oh.”

The path ended, with a very long drop in front of her, almost as vertical as a cliff. 

Araka cautiously approached the edge and looked down.

Far below, she could see the cave floor, and somewhere beyond it — a small spring of water seemed flowing in the dark. 

“…So how am I supposed to get down there?”

Before she could come up with an answer, her Matake instinct answered immediately.

Jump.

Araka stared downward at the rugged terrain.

Then, an inner voice started giving her hints: Come on, it’s just a Jinka — you know none of this is physically real, aren’t you? 

Araka hesitated: if I fell, surely the instructors wouldn’t actually let me hit the ground, right? There would probably be some kind of cushion, or Instructor Huashin would simply reset the sequence. 

With this in her mind, Araka moved one foot closer to the edge.

“…Wait,” her usual sense caught her up before she made the leap. 

Araka looked at the bottom again. This time, she noticed the sharp stone pillars at the bottom.

Araka froze, if this had been a real cave, jumping would have been suicidal. 

But this isn’t real, isn’t it? Her field seemed almost eager to remind her of that.

Araka narrowed her eyes —  something felt wrong.

She then remembered Kinekama’s rule: don’t destroy obstacles unnecessarily.

If I jumped, I would have to protect myself somehow, which meant either breaking the stone pillars below or forcing the instructors to reconstruct that section of the Jinka —  neither sounded like the intended solution.

“…Then why is my field telling me to jump?” The question escaped Araka’s lips before she could react. 

The sound of water intensified as Araka moved closer to the edge of the cliff, while her urge to jump down the cliff became stronger. 

Dip. Dip. Dip. 

Why is the sound so annoying? Araka said to herself.

Then, an idea came across.

“What if I stepped back?” 

Araka clanged her feet to the stony ground before she could make another step. Then, a strong push came from her back. Araka looked around — even the stone wall behind her started to blur. 

“…No,” Araka muttered while trying to maintain her balance.

That’s no longer my instinct anymore, but … the whole Jinka is forcing me to jump down the cliff. 

I need to fight back, she thought.

“Ha!” Araka shouted out and turned around, trying to overcome the force dragging him backwards. She managed to turned her shoulder back, yet the resistance had already become far stronger than before.

Araka gritted her teeth: why I couldn’t even turn myself back? Is jumping down the cliff only way out? 

Then, she remembered something Huashin mentioned to her earlier: “If you feel overwhelmed, kneel yourself down and put both hands on the back of your head.”

If I really jump down the cliff, then I will position exactly like that to avoid the impact, Araka thought.

Then, Araka suddenly felt enlightened.

“—wait, so that’s what this Jinka is about!”

Araka immediately shifted her focus to the path behind her. She turned her face sideways while slowly changing the direction she came from. Then, a leap followed — Araka used her right foot to push herself away from the cliff. 

While midair, Araka started to see her surroundings start to blur, and the resistance became stronger as if she’s running against a strong wind. 

As soon as both of her feet landed on the ground, the scenery beside her stabilized a bit. Araka scanned around — she’s further away from the cliff, and the urge of jumping down the cliff became weaker as the sound of water drops faded. 

However, Araka could still sense the resistance pulling against her, even though it was smaller than before. 

So I’m not quite there yet, but I think I’m going the right direction, Araka thought. 

Araka ran further toward the boundary. She leaned her body forward, head focused solely at the roads in front of her. Then, the scene of the cliff started to disappear behind her, and the sound of the water shifted toward another direction — this time, deeper on the other path from the earlier junction. 

Now I get it, Araka muttered. 

Then, the landscape of the cave changed again.