Joni let out a soft sound, like the sigh of a bird tired of life, then bent down so that Sylphia could climb on. The girl hopped lightly onto his back, sitting while holding her breath—still unable to accept the blinding pink decorations covering the majestic mount.
Not long after, Gardon joined. With his large fra and fluttering gray cloak, he sat behind Sylphia and cleared his throat.
"Hold on tight, kid. Joni tends to get a little... overenthusiastic during takeoff."
Before Sylphia could ask, Joni had already flapped his wings once—and the entire world seed to flip upside down.
SWOOSH!!
Wind slapped Sylphia’s face, her hair whipping wildly backward. Below them, the ground rapidly shrank. Sylphia almost scread, but all she could do was clutch tightly at the fine but strong feathers on Joni’s nape.
"THIS IS ’A LITTLE’ TO YOU?!" Sylphia shouted, glancing back.
"He likes to show off at the start!" Gardon laughed, nearly thrown off by the excited tremor of the pink super-garuda.
Minutes later, they finally reached a stable altitude. Above the clouds, the world felt silent—only the soft sound of wind and the occasional twinkle of magical light crossing the blue sky.
Sylphia closed her eyes for a mont. Calm. Peaceful.
"...But why is it still pink..." she muttered, still in disbelief.
Two hours passed.
Above the rolling cotton-like clouds, two figures floated peacefully on the back of a brightly pink garuda.
No conversation.
Only the occasional flap of Joni’s wings breaking through the thin air. Flickers of distant light danced across the sky—perhaps remnants of weather magic, or the boundary between two magical zones.
Sylphia, now disguised as Verin, sat in front of Gardon. She gazed at the horizon with a well-practiced innocent face, though inside, she still couldn’t believe this journey was real. Her small body was growing tired, and her stomach joined in protest.
"Verin," Gardon finally spoke, voice calm and low. "Are you hungry?"
Verin turned quickly. "No."
Growl—
Her stomach instantly betrayed her. Even Joni turned his head back, as if to confirm what he’d heard.
Verin lowered her head. Her round cheeks flushed.
Gardon gave a small smile and raised his hand. A soft light glowed at his fingertip, and from the ring on his finger, a warm leaf-wrapped bundle floated out, releasing a tempting aroma.
"I brought supplies. So if you’re hungry, just say so," he said, offering it to her.
Verin took it hesitantly and gently unfolded the leaf. Inside was a sandwich of smoked mushroom and at, with herbal sauce and signature spices, all wrapped in aromatic leaves that were still warm. Simple, but mouthwatering.
"...Thank you," she murmured, then took a small bite and quickly turned away, continuing to chew.
Gardon said nothing more.
Their journey resud in silence.
Ti passed. They remained quiet for hours, only speaking when absolutely necessary. As before, that mont ca during alti—and again, it was Gardon who initiated.
The sky began to change color, from bright blue to golden orange. The sun slowly dipped below the horizon.
"I’m hungry," Verin suddenly said.
Gardon looked over. This ti, his expression held a hint of surprise.
"...Not as shy as before, huh," he muttered. "Alright, hold on."
From the sa ring, he pulled out two skewers of young wyvern at, already smoked and seasoned. A sweet-spicy aroma spread through the air, irresistible to anyone who inhaled it.
"Want so too, Joni?" Gardon asked. "Don’t worry, I brought yours too."
A pink garuda with a hopeful face wasn’t sothing you saw every day—but Joni wore it perfectly.
Verin took the skewer from Gardon without a word and bit into the middle.
"Hmp. Tasty," she said shortly.
Gardon only gave a small smile.
The sky darkened. The clouds slowly turned into deep purples and blacks, and once more the world fell into stillness—calm, cool, and soothing.
The sky had completely transford into a dark sea sprinkled with stars. After flying all day, Joni slowly descended into an open area in the middle of a dense forest. Towering trees surrounded them, their leaves whispering softly as the night wind slipped between the branches. The ground was carpeted in soft moss and tiny flowers glowing faintly, as if welcoming two strangers from the sky.
The forest was quiet... too quiet.
But Gardon was not careless. Calmly, he knelt down and tapped the ground three tis while murmuring in the spirit tongue.
A small circle imdiately ford around where they stood. It was made of colorful flowers that blood in an instant—red, blue, purple, white, orange—but the most abundant was still pink. They glowed softly in the dark like fireflies. Their scent was calming, and the air within the barrier beca warm and pleasant.
"What is that?"
"A beast-repelling ward. They won’t dare co near," Gardon replied as he stood.
Verin nodded slightly. She sat on the grass, hugging her knees, gazing up at the stars.
Gardon looked at her. "Ti to sleep. Want to set up a tent?"
"I don’t need a tent," Verin quickly replied.
"But I brought one," Gardon said, opening his storage pouch and pulling out a small scroll that exploded into a full tent in an instant. Of course—it was bright pink. Complete with a tiny heart-shaped flag on top.
"..."
Verin stared at the tent for a long ti.
’What the... Pink again. Everything is pink. Why the tent, the bird, even the rations?! Was he once a fairy doll painter?’
Gardon raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you’re okay sleeping outside?"
Verin nodded. "I’m used to it."
Gardon squinted. "Used to it? But aren’t you from the capital?"
The question lingered in the air. Verin went silent. Then she lowered her head slightly.
"I like hunting," she answered briefly.
"...I see," Gardon replied. He didn’t ask further. He closed his eyes slowly, leaning against a large tree behind him. Joni, the pink garuda, was already asleep—his massive body curled into a fluffy ball.
Verin remained awake.
Her thoughts drifted. The night was too quiet—but her heart was not.
’Father... I’ve been waiting for you. I don’t even know what to say when that day cos...’
mories of Reyhan Alther, her father—a figure she could only call in her heart—weighed heavily in her chest. She took a deep breath.
And at that mont, she made a decision.
"If I can’t sleep," she whispered to herself, "I might as well train."
She raised her small hand. A cold aura began to fill the air. Nearby leaves slowly froze as a thin mist enveloped the area.
In a voice barely audible, she called:
"Glacivale."
A pale blue light burst into the silence.
A long spear of icy silver-blue appeared. The surrounding air turned into winter’s breath.
Verin raised it slowly, swinging it with one small hand. The night breeze seed to freeze as the spear danced.
But then, a voice rang out.
"What is that... your spirit?"
Verin froze. She nearly scread. "Y-Yes..." she stamred.
Gardon stood, walking closer, his eyes locked on the icy spear radiating frozen light.
He whistled softly. "Beautiful... and cold. May I hold it?"
Verin quickly shook her head. "Don’t. You might freeze."
Gardon just chuckled. "Relax. I may be bald, but I’m tough."
Verin looked at him uncertainly. But finally—slowly—she handed over Glacivale.
Gardon touched the shaft with his right hand.
Crack.
Frost instantly spread from his fingertip, crawling rapidly to his wrist, then to his elbow.
His eyes widened. He quickly let go, but the ice still left a faint mark—like a frostbite scar.
Verin imdiately pulled the spear back.
"I warned you..." she murmured.
Gardon stared at his hand, then chuckled... then laughed harder.
"HAHAHAHA! Unbelievable... I’m a Rank High Spirit stage 9 and I got frozen just from a touch?!"
He looked at Verin with disbelief.
"Your spirit... it’s not an ordinary spirit. This... this is definitely a high-grade spirit... or maybe even beyond that..."
Gardon stared at Glacivale, the spear resting in Verin’s hand. The voice echoed only in his mind, filled with shock and awe. "But he’s only a Spirit Initiate... and yet he can control his spirit freely... this... this doesn’t make sense..."
Verin glanced at Gardon, who had suddenly gone silent and was now scratching his head with a confused look.
Suddenly, Gardon slapped both of Verin’s shoulders with enthusiasm.
"Do you want to beco my disciple?!"
He paused for a mont, realizing how sudden and overly excited he sounded.
"I an... have you ever learned how to raise your Spirit rank?"
Verin looked a bit surprised by the offer. He lowered his head slightly.
"I’m sorry, but..."
’He’s going to reject ... too fast, Gardon... too fast...’ Gardon thought, his expression turning gloomy.
"I need to ask my father’s permission first," Verin said calmly.
Gardon raised an eyebrow.
"Your father? I thought you lived in an orphanage?" he asked, trying to confirm what he knew.
"I have an adoptive father."
Gardon fell silent.
"Adoptive father? This man must be extraordinary... to recognize this child’s potential? Maybe he’s one of the strong ones from the capital... I just hope... he’s not one of those bastard Elves..."
Finally, Gardon sighed and clasped his hands behind his back.
"Alright, I won’t ask you to be my student just yet. But... I’ll still teach you the basic Spirit cultivation technique."
"Basic cultivation technique?" Verin repeated, a little hesitant. He thought for a mont.
"I guess it’s fine... Father hasn’t taught anything about that yet... did he forget?"
Inside the system room, where Reyhan’s consciousness lay dormant—
He was sleeping soundly. Maybe Reyhan was dreaming of nasi padang and sambal belacan.
Back to Sylphia, not Verin—
Verin finally nodded.
"Alright, teach ."
Gardon nodded in satisfaction. He sat cross-legged on the grass and gestured for Verin to do the sa.
"First, sit cross-legged. Keep your back straight. Not too stiff, but not too relaxed either. Balanced. Close your eyes, and focus."
Verin followed carefully. He sat cross-legged on the ground, placing his hands on his knees, palms facing upward.
Glacivale, the cold spear emitting a chilling aura, slowly floated in front of him. Its tip trembled lightly, as if breathing with its master.
"Focus on your spirit. Feel it. What’s the strongest elent you sense from it? Sharpness? Cold? Death? Ask yourself... what did you feel when you first awakened it? What do you feel when you’re with it?"
Gardon’s voice lowered, becoming like a wise whisper that blended with the night wind.
Verin closed his eyes deeper. His breathing slowed.
In his mind, mories began to surface—
A cold iron cage...
No roof...
Sleeping under piercing rain...
Laughter of children mocking him...
Punches... kicks...
Disgusted stares from the elves...
And pain that ca without warning...
Cold.
Loneliness.
Death that never truly left.
When Glacivale first appeared in his spirit contract, what he felt wasn’t fear. It was...
"Familiarity..."
Sothing that had silently accompanied him all this ti.
Cold... but protective.
Deadly... but loyal.
In front of his body, Glacivale began to tremble violently. Resonance.
The freezing aura started spreading in a circular pattern from the spear to the ground, as if freezing the air itself.
The atmosphere turned heavy. Leaves on the trees stopped moving. Dew ford on the tree trunks, and Verin’s breath began to emit visible mist.
Gardon watched, eyes widening.
"He’s... truly synchronizing with his spirit..."
The effect was intense. The ground around Verin froze within a half-ter radius. Crystals of ice began forming at the tips of the grass.
"Wait..." Gardon murmured.
"He... he’s just beginning..."
Spiritual energy gathered around Verin, rging with his breath and heartbeat.
That cold aura wasn’t just for show—it pressed, bit, lived.
Verin didn’t move an inch. His focus was absolute. As if the outside world no longer existed.
Gardon stood up, brushing off his pants which had started to freeze at the bottom.
"Well... looks like this’ll take a while."
He walked away, looking for a warr spot. Lying down, he wrapped himself in his cloak.
"That kid... is a real monster..." he mumbled before closing his eyes.
"Please don’t wake up with wings or horns... that’d be too cliché..."
The next morning.
"Heeey... Gardon..."
A soft voice woke Gardon from a strange dream where he had turned into a koi fish.
His eyes slowly opened—and widened.
"What the hell...?"
Verin stood before him. His body looked the sa, but the aura around him—heavy, sharp, freezing. It felt like standing in a blizzard, even though the morning sun wasn’t even up yet.
"I’ve reached Spirit Initiate stage 3," Verin said calmly.
Gardon instantly sat up.
"WHAT?!"
He hurriedly examined Verin’s aura. His eyes narrowed, focused, then widened again.
"...Stage 3?! You’ve barely ditated for half a day!"
"He started last night... which ans... less than ten hours...?"
"You jumped two levels in one night?!"
Verin gave a small nod.
"I just... followed your instructions."
Gardon stared at him like he was looking at a monster disguised as a child.
’Normally, a beginner needs a week to a month to level up once, depending on their understanding of their elent and the spirit’s quality. That’s if they’re lucky.’
’Even geniuses take one to three days per level—and that’s already considered amazing at the capital’s academy.’
’But Verin? This kid jumped two levels in one night. No permanent ntor. No exclusive technique. Just the basic thod.’
Gardon let out a long sigh.
"You know... if the spirit researchers heard about this, they’d call an ergency eting... or set themselves on fire."
Verin just nodded quietly, unsure how to respond.
"Last night... it just felt like I was sleeping."
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