Ignoring all the eyes on him, Jin placed the Frost Lord Fang wolf's fang down and walked up and greeted Jenny with an amused grin. “This is quite the funny appearance for you of all people, isn’t it? Wish I could take pictures,” he chuckled, clearly entertained by her lazy sprawl.
“Hmmm, leave alone, you scamr. Just make yourself useful and punch stuff,” Jenny waved him off without even opening her eyes.
“No, I don’t think I will,” Jin replied easily, smiling.
“Hey, monkey, beat him up for ,” Zeph woke up, his ears perking as he looked at Jin with obvious excitent at the thought of fighting soone strong.
“Hmm? Cool monkey,” Jin said approvingly. He paused, glancing around at the collection of creatures nearby. “Hare, wolf, sheep… even a bear. Is Kei just collecting creatures now?” His gaze lifted instinctively toward the sky and the tree line, his expression turning thoughtful. “Feels like there’s sothing missing.”
“There’s also a Stormbringer Fellhorn and a Frost Tyrant Fellhorn,” Owen added casually, nodding toward the surrounding area. “And Seth’s over there too.” He gestured briefly. “But the bear isn’t Kei’s. That one’s mine.”
“What are you looking for?” Lisa asked.
“He’s got all these creatures,” Jin replied. “I was just expecting a bird to be among them, that’s all. Oh hey, you’re here too.” He finally noticed Lisa properly.
On the ground in front of her lay a blueprint, beside it the finished creation it depicted.
“Yeah,” Jenny added, glancing at it. “Just like his father's that he keeps in the corner of his office.”
“When he told about it, and about its connection to his parents, I really put my all into making this for him,” Lisa said quietly. “I hope he likes it. It's supposed to be a weapon he had in mind to make, and he seed so excited about it. He was really adorable."
“Is anyone going to explain why Number One is here, and why him, and why you all seem so familiar with each other?” Talia finally questioned.
“Oh, Scamr?” Jenny yawned. “He’s Kei’s bodyguard who sohow scamd his way into becoming Kei’s best friend.”
Jin looked around. “More importantly, who are all of you, and why are there suddenly so many people here? The wood crafting lady’s here, and even you, Kaito?”
“Human experints,” Jenny said flatly. “Kaito’s here for . I don’t know why, but whatever. And her” she pointed lazily at Lisa, “that’s your new sister-in-law.”
The clearing went quiet for half a second.
Then Jin blinked.
While the others were still surprised to learn about Kei and Jin’s friendship, Jin himself was far more stunned by a different revelation.
A sister-in-law.
The mont it sank in, his gaze shifted to Lisa, softening instantly. The sharpness he carried dulled into sothing warm and protective, as if he had already decided that whatever happened next, she was now under his care. Lisa noticed imdiately and couldn’t help but laugh, genuinely pleased.
“Is it true that Kei was weak back on Earth?” Kai suddenly asked, voicing a question that had been sitting in his mind for a long ti.
“Oh right, he told us he was really weak,” Reese added.
“Hm, more lazy than anything,” Jenny replied without hesitation.
Lisa shot her a stunned look, as if to say she had absolutely no right to call anyone lazy.
Jin thought about it for a mont. “I guess that’s one way to put it. Not really lazy, though. More like he never saw the point in exercising. I’ll admit, I was surprised by how strong he was when he showed up and handled that Apex boss. Why do you ask?”
Reese, Kai, Owen, and Talia exchanged glances.
Then, as if a dam burst, they turned on Jin all at once.
“That demon has no soul!”
“He made us exercise nonstop!”
“He threw us at monsters!”
“We got beaten up. A lot!”
They unloaded everything. The brutal training. The relentless drills. The advice that sohow made things worse before it made them better. They ratted Kei out completely, voices overlapping, so of them even breaking down into full sobs, tears and snot included.
Jin listened patiently.
Very patiently.
When they finally ran out of breath, he nodded slowly.
“…So,” he said, eyes lighting up with a dangerous kind of excitent, “he’s exercising now?”
The group collectively froze.
Sothing about the look on his face made their skin crawl.
“Oh yeah,” Jenny said lazily, not even looking up. “Kei is definitely going to kill you guys now. If you thought his training before was bad, now that you’ve ratted him out, he’s absolutely going to design new training regins. Ones just for you. Probably to test things.”
Lisa covered her mouth, amused, her shoulders shaking slightly with laughter.
If anyone had been paying close attention, they would have noticed the color drain from Reese, Kai, Owen, and Talia’s faces.
It looked almost like their souls were leaving their bodies.
At least, that’s what Kaito thought he was seeing.
Plop.
In front of everyone, a small mountain of equipnt spilled out onto the ground. Different parts, different accessories, spanning multiple grades. The one thing they all had in common was their purpose. Every piece boosted ntal attributes. Will. Intelligence. Even Charisma.
“This is everything I’ve managed to collect so far,” Jin said, glancing at the pile before looking at Jenny. “Do you think any of this will help him?”
“Whoa… that’s a lot,” Kaito muttered, picking up a silver-grade scepter and inspecting it. “So all that dungeon diving and hunting ntal-stat gear… that was for Kei?”
Jin only humd in response.
“And Jenny’s been stockpiling materials to make clothes for him too,” Lisa added, her tone shifting with concern. “Is there sothing you two are worried about?”
Jenny and Jin exchanged a brief look.
“During the ti you’ve been with him,” Jin asked carefully, “has Kei ever acted… odd?”
“We only t him here,” Kai replied. “So all we know is how he’s been with us.”
“That’s fair,” Jin said.
Jenny leaned forward slightly. “Then let put it this way. Have you noticed any changes? Even small ones. In his behavior, his personality.”
The group hesitated. Reese, thinking back. “Do you an the calligraphy thing? I’ve seen words carved into the ground and surroundings before. Like they were etched by wind.”
Lisa nodded. “He asked to make calligraphy scrolls and brushes too. Actually… that was right after you ca by asking to make playing cards,” she said, glancing at Jin.
Jenny turned slowly to him. “Really? Even here you’re trying to scam people?” She stared for a second longer. “…How much did you make?”
Jin coughed. “Ignoring that. It sounds like he’s still keeping himself under control. For now. Let’s just hope we’re not already too late.”
The worry on both his and Jenny’s faces was unmistakable.
“He’s been in a dungeon for awhile,” Jenny added quietly. “When he cos out… let’s hope we can still keep him grounded.”
“We’ve just been training, trying to keep up,” Reese said. “Whatever’s in there keeping him busy for that long is bound to make him several tis stronger than us. So we’ve been running dungeons and quests with these guys, hoping to close the gap. We’ve also been trying to improve that whole natural training approach Kei told us about. Not relying on the system.”
Jin did not interrupt. As if unwilling to let Kei’s efforts with them go to waste, he had them explain everything. Every drill. Every restriction. What Kei made them do and, more importantly, why he made them do it.
By the ti they finished, his expression had darkened.
“I guess you feel stupid now, huh?” Jenny laughed, catching the look on his face. “Believe , I was pissed too when I found out dumping stat points was basically a waste. But you?” She glead. “You were riding Kei so hard about exercising that he literally jumped off the highest floor in Cherry Tree just to get away from you. And you still didn’t think of such a thing.”
Jin exhaled slowly.
“Alright,” he said at last. “I’ll continue his training for you.”
Everyone stiffened.
“He rembered so of the easy stuff I tried to teach him,” Jin continued, crossing his arms. “Back then, he could do push-ups just fine. But they reminded him of the cramped place he grew up in, so he avoided them and got lazy about it. Doesn’t matter now.”
His smile turned sharp.
“Until he cos back, you’re under my care. And if this whole exercise thing is really as effective as it sounds, I’m going to squeeze more stat points out of you than he ever did.”
Silence followed.
At that point, Kaito was more than certain of one thing.
Their souls had already left their bodies.
.....
Wukong stood there speechless, staring at the human now sporting long, drooping hare ears and voltage-lined legs. His mouth hung open.
“This is going to be fun,” the confused prince finally said, bouncing lightly on his feet as his body swayed with excitent.
Kei Y shared the sentint, but he focused on his body instead. He opened and closed his hands, feeling out every change. His muscles felt tighter and more responsive, his ligants loaded and ready. His fra seed built to stretch, coil, and release tension far more efficiently than before.
Without another thought, he vanished.
Wukong raised his arm just in ti as Kei Y’s hare-furred leg crashed into it. The impact pushed him back a few ters, feet grinding against the arena floor.
“Oooh. Strong,” Wukong said, grinning as he absorbed the blow.
With his free hand, he reached out to grab Kei Y, and a gale of wind erupted to push his arm away. Kei Y quickly realized it did nothing. Wukong’s grip closed around his head a mont later.
A troubled look crossed Kei Y’s face.
It was not because his defense had failed.
That did not help.
But sothing else bothered him more.
Now that he was in this transford state, he could feel it clearly.
His aether was dropping at a steady rate.
[Khenu]
[Aether: 145/150]
All those major attacks and rune skills he’d used earlier drew entirely from the ambient aether, not his own.
That had never been a problem.
Kei Y didn’t care whether a technique used his internal reserves or the world around him. If anything, a cultivator’s personal aether was usually better—denser, purer, more responsive unless the surrounding ambient aether was exceptionally high-quality.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
So the drain itself wasn’t what bothered him.
What troubled him was the type of aether being consud.
His pristine aether.
He used pristine aether deliberately, always by choice. It was a resource he tapped into only when he wanted unmatched amplification or perfect force execution.
But now?
He wasn’t choosing.
His pristine aether was being consud automatically.
The mont Wukong grabbed him, the mont the transford state held—his body continued draining pristine aether without his consent, siphoning it as if maintaining the form required it.
Kei Y’s brows drew together.
“I guess Unique Skills really do function differently…” he muttered. His eyes flicked down at his transford limbs, voltage rippling beneath the skin.
“Using [Aspect Manifestation: Creature-Borne Adaptation] is a lot more demanding than [Prismatic Adaptation].”
Aether ticked down again in his vision.
[Khenu]
[Aether: 142/150]
He grimaced.
This wasn’t a skill he could keep active indefinitely.
Crash
Kei Y’s head hit the stone hard enough to crack it, the shock rattling through his skull and snapping his thoughts back into the fight. The mont he looked up, Wukong’s fist was already descending, fast enough that Kei Y felt the pressure before the strike even landed.
Kei Y opened his mouth, and the inside of his cheeks lit with thin, glowing rune strokes, tiny ash-inscriptions forming.
He exhaled sharply.
A blast of Ash sprayed upward like a volcanic cough, erupting straight into Wukong’s face.
Wukong jerked back, montarily blinded as the ashen cloud clung to his eyes and nostrils.
Kei Y rolled out from under him, vaulting backward with digitigrade legs that crackled with Verdant Volt. In a blink he reappeared behind Wukong, twisting mid-air as he brought his bamboo staff down in a clean arc. Aether Control surged through the wood, tightening its fibers until it struck like tal.
The staff slamd into Wukong’s skull.
“Gah!”
Wukong staggered, shaking his head.
He looked up just in ti to see sothing else barreling toward him.
An atlatl projectile, runes burning across its shaft, already exploding forward.
Without hesitation
Clang.
The projectile shattered on impact with Wukong’s forehead, splintering like it had hit a mountain.
Kei Y landed lightly behind him, flipping his staff into a reverse grip.
“There it is,” he muttered, eyes narrowing.
Wukong grinned, the ash still smudged across his face.
“Tsk. You’re really annoying… I like you.”
He vanished.
Kei Y barely caught the flicker of movent before Wukong reappeared directly in front of him, staff already swinging down in a brutal, effortless arc.
Kei Y raised his own staff in ti.
Crack.
The two weapons collided, shockwaves rippling through the tornado surrounding them.
Wukong pressed forward imdiately, twisting his wrist and sliding into a second strike. Kei Y parried, pivoted, and countered in the sa motion. Their staffs blurred, spinning, colliding, redirecting, hooking, each movent flowing into the next without pause.
Wukong frowned mid-exchange.
With genuine curiosity.
He spun his staff horizontally, forcing Kei Y to duck, then slamd the butt of it toward Kei Y’s ribs.
Kei Y guided the strike away with a glancing sweep of his bamboo staff. The air whistled as Wukong’s strike carved through it, powerful enough to deform the wind wall behind Kei Y.
“You…” Wukong said between exchanges as he twisted into another strike. “…are interesting.”
Kei Y didn’t answer. His staff moved instead—fluid, deceptively light. Every impact reverberated through the bamboo as if it were forged iron.
Wukong noticed.
His eyes lit up.
“Not only did you unlock Aether Control,” Wukong said, grinning wider as their staffs locked briefly, “you’re good enough to make a regular stick hit like a weapon grade treasure.”
Kei Y swept the staff upward, breaking the lock and forcing Wukong into a backward hop.
Wukong laughed.
He lunged again, this ti faster, so fast his staff left afterimages. Kei Y sturggled but matched him, sliding into a stance he didn’t belong to, adapting instinctively, borrowing from Breeze, Zephyr, and even hints of the Verdant-Volt Hare’s explosive rhythm.
Wood slamd against tal.
Wind spiraled violently around each point of impact, pressure popping in sharp bursts as sparks of green lightning flickered between their clashing weapons.
But in the end, it was still wood against tal.
And tal won.
Kei Y’s bamboo staff splintered under the strain, snapping apart mid-exchange. He did not spare it a glance. There was no ti to. The fight did not pause just because his weapon failed.
He flowed forward regardless.
Kei Y found an opening, small, but enough.
He pivoted sharply and drove a kick into Wukong’s chest, sending him skidding backward across the stone. The mont distance opened between them, Kei Y flipped backward and landed on his hands, his legs folding into the familiar shape of a crouched hare.
His muscles tightened.
Aether surged.
Verdant Volt roared to life.
In a single breath, a massive aether-projection of the Verdant Volt Hare enveloped Kei Y like a second body, taller, broader, its silhouette outlined in luminous green arcs that crackled violently against the air.
The projection kicked.
The aether-hare launched forward like a living lightning bolt, barreling toward Wukong with predatory acceleration.
Wukong’s eyes widened as the pressure hit him, then, instinctively, his skin hardened, turning to stone with a rapid, grain-like ripple spreading across his body, petrifying him in an instant.
It still wasn’t enough.
BLAST.
The impact rang through the arena like a thunderclap.
Even with stone skin, Wukong felt the full brunt of the strike vibrate through his bones. The paralysis effect of Verdant Volt crawled over him, locking his muscles for a mont. One knee hit the ground as static crackled violently across the petrified flesh.
He lifted his gaze.
Kei Y stood several steps away, the projection gone, reverted back to his human form. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, sweat mixing with faint aether-light across his skin.
But he was smiling.
“Heh… can you keep going?” Kei Y asked.
That was all the provocation Wukong needed.
A grin split his face as he pushed himself upright. With a single fluid motion, he thrust his palm forward.
The ground split. A massive stone hand burst upward, fingers curling as it surged toward Kei Y like a divine punishnt.
Kei Y didn’t flinch.
His Kaleidoscope Eyes shifted—brown puzzle pieces swirling and locking into place. Earth resonance ignited behind his pupils.
He mirrored Wukong’s motion.
A matching earthen palm erupted from the ground beneath him, massive and dense, forming with perfect precision from the swirling rune-strokes responding to his eyes.
The two palms crashed together.
Stone thundered against earth.
Cracks spiderwebbed.
Dust erupted outward in a violent wave.
There was never any doubt whose would break first.
Kei Y’s palm shattered under the force, exploding into rubble.
Wukong’s palm didn’t stop.
It kept advancing—slower, fractured, but inevitable—barreling straight toward Kei Y.
The palm smashed down, only to have struck nothing, as Kei Y had already dissapeared.
Wukong anticipated Kei Y’s disappearance and reacted instantly, but when he looked up, Kei Y was already airborne. This ti, the puzzle-like fragnts within Kei Y’s eyes had shifted. They were no longer brown. Their color had deepened into sothing heavier, closer to stone itself. What unsettled Wukong most was how familiar it felt. The hue, the texture, the presence. It looked like the very stone he commanded.
Wukong extended his staff, striking upward to catch Kei Y while he was still in the air. For a split second, he thought he had the timing right. Then Kei Y vanished again. This ti, however, Wukong could not find him at all. No displacent in the air. No disturbance in the ground. Nothing.
Confusion crept in.
Before he could react, a stone fist slamd into the side of his head with crushing force. It was a blow he did not sense, did not see, and did not anticipate.
“What the—” Wukong muttered, staggered.
Kei Y appeared in front of him as if he had always been there, his palm already rising. The strike surged upward toward Wukong’s chin, heavy with a stone force. Wukong snapped his guard up just in ti, blocking the blow and darting backward to create space.
Kei Y did not give it to him.
He followed instantly, reappearing within arm’s reach and pressing the attack without pause. With no staff and no distance left to exploit, Wukong was forced into close-quarters combat as Kei Y drove forward, fists and palms flowing seamlessly into the fight.
It went without saying that Wukong was the superior martial artist by a wide margin. His foundations were deeper, his experience broader, his instincts honed over countless battles. And yet, the way Kei Y fought now forced Wukong into a corner he had not expected.
Pressure.
Kei Y’s movents were unrefined, even crude in places, but they adapted on the fly. Each exchange grew heavier, more grounded, as if the space itself was being claid inch by inch. It was enough to make Wukong draw on sothing he rarely needed to reveal.
His physical cultivation technique activated.
Wukong’s ridians hardened, as though they had been carved from stone. Despite this sudden density, his aether flowed through them smoothly, without resistance. That alone spoke volus. His aether already carried the qualities of stone within it, not common earth, but sothing far more refined.
Sothing closer to the divine.
This technique, Wukong had developed it himself, shaping his body to better withstand the overwhelming quality of his own force. His ridians had yet to reach the sa level of refinent as his aether, but because the quality of his aether far surpassed them, it passed through the stone-like channels effortlessly.
The result was imdiate.
Each movent gained weight.
Each strike carried mass beyond muscle alone.
Stone layered over strength, turning already devastating blows into impacts that felt like mountains descending. The heaviness of his ridians reinforced every attack, amplifying his power without sacrificing speed.
Every ti Kei Y blocked or parried one of Wukong’s strikes, pain rippled through his body. Stone-laced force traveled through the contact point and rattled his bones, forcing him to imdiately circulate Healing Force just to keep moving. Fractures knit themselves together almost as fast as they ford, muscles tearing and restoring in rapid cycles.
But as the exchange dragged on, sothing else began to change.
The brown fragnts within his Kaleidoscope Eyes shifted. Their color deepened, their texture growing closer and closer to the stone that coated Wukong’s attacks. Each clash left behind an imprint, as if his eyes were studying the force directly, dissecting it piece by piece.
Kei Y ducked as a stone-covered fist blurred past his head.
If I’m not going to form a connection with you, he thought, then I’m damn well going to learn from you.
Wukong, anwhile, was growing increasingly unsettled.
At tis, he could read Kei Y clearly. He could block, evade, and counter his movents with confidence. Then, without warning, Kei Y would strike from nowhere.
A fist to the ribs.
A palm to the jaw.
A kick that landed without any prior motion registering.
It happened again and again.
Blows arrived from angles Wukong never saw. Attacks slipped past his awareness entirely, landing cleanly as if they had co from his blind spots.
The realization ca when he blocked a palm strike head-on.
The impact shoved him backward across the stone, his feet skidding as he absorbed the force. As he slid, his vision finally caught up.
Kei Y stood there, arm still extended.
Palm out.
Perfectly still.
Wukong’s eyes narrowed.
That was when it clicked.
For so reason, whenever part of Kei Y’s body left his direct field of view, it vanished from his perception entirely. Not just from sight, but from every sense he relied on. Aether, pressure, intent. All of it dropped out.
Invisible.
And the mont that unseen limb moved back into range, it was already striking.
Wukong exhaled slowly.
“Strange,” he muttered.
This was the physical cultivation technique Kei Y had developed under Oceanna’s guidance.
Using Flow Pulse Tapping as its foundation, he wove Phantom Breeze directly into the structure of the technique.
Instead of circulating raw force continuously, pulses of Breeze Force tapped rhythmically against his ridians. Each pulse carried a refined quality, infused with the essence of Phantom Breeze drawn from his self-created techniques. His aether did not rely flow. It flickered. Appeared. Vanished.
Previously, Phantom Breeze had focused on suppressing Kei Y’s presence as a whole, thinning his existence until it resembled the natural movent of air itself. Most beings simply failed to perceive him unless their attention was deliberately drawn in his direction.
Kei Y had been working for a long ti on weaving Phantom Breeze into his combat, trying to create strikes that could not be perceived. Until now, those attempts had only produced shallow openings. Useful, but fleeting. Openings that an experienced opponent could still exploit once they adapted.
This technique was different.
Despite the subtle nature of Breeze Force, every attack Kei Y delivered now carried the full authority of Wind. As the God Spark of Wind, his body was naturally attuned to it. His ridians accepted wind-aligned aether without resistance, circulating it as easily as breath. With his force alignnt already at fifty percent progression, the quality of that aether was high from the start.
He faced none of the structural barriers Wukong did.
Where Wukong had to force stone-like qualities through ridians still catching up to his aether’s refinent, Kei Y’s body welcod the wind. There was no friction. No rejection. Only flow.
Instead of cloaking his entire body, the technique focused on precision. Specific regions were targeted. Limbs. Joints. Points of motion. Portions of his form slipped out of perception for fractions of a second, only to reassert themselves at the exact mont of impact.
An arm that vanished mid-swing.
A leg that reappeared only when it struck.
A palm that existed only at the instant it connected.
By anchoring Phantom Breeze directly into his ridians through pulsed flow, Kei Y turned invisibility into a combat function rather than a stealth one. The technique did not hide him.
It hid intent.
However, Wukong’s prowess was still overwhelming.
He quickly grasped the nature of Kei Y’s technique and adjusted without hesitation, making sure to keep Kei Y’s entire form within his vision before committing to any action.
Kei Y did not mind.
“Ten,” he said calmly.
“Hm?” Wukong frowned, confused for a brief mont, until he noticed movent at his feet.
The petals scattered across the ground began to rise.
Ten of them exactly.
Realization struck too late.
Kei Y vanished from Wukong’s sight.
The petals surged forward at once, each infused with a different elental alignnt. They sliced, crackled, scorched, and froze as they converged.
Wukong hardened his body into stone instantly, bracing against the barrage. At the sa ti, he wove Daoist runes. A ring of fire erupted around him and expanded outward in a violent wave, the heat distorting the air itself.
The flas burned hot enough to expose the outline of Kei Y’s form through the shifting air.
There.
Wukong locked on.
Kei Y reappeared in his vision just as the fire ring finished expanding.
Then a soft chirp cut through the chaos.
Wukong’s eyes snapped to Kei Y’s shoulder.
The Shima Enaga had landed there, feathers fluttering innocently.
Wukong did not hesitate.
Knowing how dangerous that tiny fluff-ball truly was, he struck imdiately. Stone pillars erupted from beneath Kei Y, launching him into the air before he could reposition.
Seeing Kei Y airborne, Wukong pressed the advantage.
More stone pillars tore free from the ground and shot upward after him, blasting toward Kei Y from multiple angles, intent on crushing him before he could regain control.
A curtain of dust erupted from the impact, rolling outward in a violent wave. For a brief mont, Wukong allowed himself to believe the attack had landed cleanly.
“You know,” a voice said calmly from within the drifting dust, “you should really stop sending into the air.”
The dust began to thin, pushed aside by a slow, deliberate current of wind.
Kei Y erged from the haze, suspended effortlessly above the ground.
The Shima Enaga was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, a soft glow shimred in his hand.
A spark hovered there, rotating gently as it kept him aloft, its presence subtle yet unmistakable. Wind curled around it in slow, careful spirals, controlled to such a precise degree that the air barely seed disturbed.
“So that’s what he ant,” Auserre murmured quietly, eyes fixed on Kei Y as he remained floating. “He already revealed his Spark.”
“You’re telling that thing has been pecking and harassing this whole ti?” the Vendor snapped, clearly irritated. “The shape’s different, but the feeling is the sa. I knew it.”
“Creative,” Oceanna said, her gaze never leaving the battlefield. “Coupled with his physical cultivation technique, it suits him well.”
Kei Y lifted his hand slightly.
The Spark responded.
A gentle swirl of wind unfurled from it, deceptively soft. Far too soft.
The air rolled downward toward Wukong, not as a blast, but as a pressure that cut, pushed, and weighed upon him all at once. Each step Wukong took t resistance, the wind pressing against his movents like an invisible tide that refused to yield.
Kei Y rotated the object in his hand.
A parasol.
Its form was elegant and strange, its fra shaped from creation, wind, and frost rune strokes woven together into a seamless whole. Pale feathers and cherry tree petals etched across its surface shifted subtly as it turned, frost glinting along its edges while wind flowed through it as naturally as breath.
“You know,” Kei Y said, his tone almost casual as he hovered above the battlefield, “I’ve always admired parasols. They’re practical. Versatile.” He smiled faintly. “And honestly, they’re a perfect fit for my force alignnt.”
As he spoke, the parasol spun once more, the wind responding with sharper intent.
Like Silvie had once said, a Spark did not need to be a weapon.
It could be an item. A skill. A concept.
In Kei Y’s case, his Spark was born from creation itself.
A concept that granted him a fragile, aningful connection to his parents, and to a friend he held deeply in his heart.
This was its first stage.
A fusion of creation, wind, and frost rune strokes, given form as a Shima Enaga and parasol hybrid. The sa parasol he had once proposed to Lisa as a weapon. The sa parasol his father owned and he kept tucked away in the corner of his office.
A mory given shape.
A Spark that carried both purpose and sentint.
And now, floating above Wukong, Kei Y gently closed the parasol.
The wind did not stop.
It sharpened.
Reviews
All reviews (0)