Zyon stepped into the center of the clearing and extended his right arm. His hand formed a crude imitation of the firearm, two fingers pointed forward while his thumb acted as a sight.
Golden light immediately gathered around his fingertips.
At first, the glow looked familiar, but moments later it began changing.
The bright gold deepened into a rich orange-amber color while heat shimmered around his hand, causing the air itself to distort.
Tiny sparks danced between his fingers, and the temperature rose quickly enough that Lorenzo instinctively took a step backward.
Lorenzo then went to stand behind his master. "That definitely looks hotter than usual."
The memory clearly resurfaced. "It reminds me of that training dummy you accidentally burned up back in the village. Except this feels a lot more intentional."
Zyon didn't answer.
His entire focus remained on the energy gathering around his hand.
Two thin rings of light slowly formed around his index and middle fingers before sliding toward the tips. As the rings moved closer together, the compressed energy began vibrating violently.
The shaking spread up his arm and into his shoulder while sweat rolled down his forehead.
The pressure kept building. Higher and higher.
The rings finally reached his fingertips.
Zyon's entire arm trembled.
The energy fought against him, desperate to escape. "Steady..."
His jaw tightened. "Just a little more..."
The pressure became unbearable.
Then he released it.
BANG!
A violent recoil snapped his arm backward.
Bright orange-gold light shot forward like a miniature comet, carving a glowing path through the air as it raced across the clearing.
The projectile traveled roughly fifteen meters before the glow weakened and finally disappeared.
For a heartbeat, nobody spoke.
Then Zyon's face lit up. "Yes!"
He pumped his fist. "It worked!"
The attack wasn't particularly powerful yet.
The range was poor.
The projectile had vanished quickly.
But none of that mattered.
For the first time in his life, he had launched his own light away from his body.
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Lorenzo immediately pointed at him. "That's amazing, bro."
He pointed again. "You made a sun gun."
"It isn't a sun gun."
"It absolutely is."
Zyon shook his head. "No."
"Fine." Lorenzo folded his arms. "Then I'm calling it Solar Finger Bang."
"That sounded a bit cooler, but no."
From behind them, Hound quietly rubbed his temples.
While the two argued, the old adventurer watched Zyon continue experimenting with the technique.
Each attempt looked slightly cleaner than the last.
Each shot traveled a little farther.
Each success boosted the boy's confidence.
A small smile appeared on Hound's face. 'He's growing quickly. Not just stronger. But smarter and more creative.'
'The day was coming when certain truths could no longer remain hidden from him.'
Training continued beneath the patches of sunlight scattered throughout the clearing. Zyon spent the next hour refining his new ranged attack while Lorenzo sat cross-legged nearby, deep in meditation and apparently searching for inspiration of his own.
Eventually, he cracked one eye open. "Master?"
Hound looked over.
"Can I skip sword drills for now?"
The old adventurer raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Lorenzo pointed dramatically at Zyon. "Because he's inventing techniques and now I feel competitive."
Hound looked at the boy for a moment. "Go ahead, this is training as well."
Lorenzo grinned and immediately returned to meditation.
While the boys focused on their training, Hound motioned for Quade to follow him. The two walked toward the edge of the clearing and stopped beneath a large tree overlooking the river.
"Quade," Hound began, leaning against the trunk, "I should probably tell you something."
The boy listened quietly.
"I'm not the greatest swordsman," Hound admitted.
That earned a blink.
"I know the fundamentals of many weapons. Enough techniques to teach and enough experience to survive. But your dedication to the blade already looks more refined than mine."
Quade looked surprised.
Hound pointed toward the katana hanging at his side. "The difference is experience."
The old adventurer tapped his belly. "And a little extra weight."
That earned the faintest hint of a smile.
The humor faded quickly.
Hound pointed toward Zyon, who had just launched another glowing projectile across the clearing. "He improved because he experimented. You need the same opportunity."
Quade followed his gaze. "You think I should use Cosmic Debt more?"
"I think you should learn how to control it." The distinction mattered, Hound explained.
Hound crouched, picked up a stick, and drew several rough diagrams in the dirt. "If you can focus the power into something smaller, maybe a single finger instead of an arm, the cost might become more manageable. It would still be dangerous, but you'd gain more uses before sacrificing larger pieces of yourself."
Quade stared at the sketch.
The idea made sense.
It also terrified him. "I've tried before."
His hand slowly clenched. "The power always wants more than I'm willing to give."
"Then we teach it restraint," Hound said.
Quade let out a quiet laugh. "You make that sound easy."
"It won't be at all." The honesty surprised the boy. "But you're not alone anymore."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Quade nodded. "I'll try. Thank you… I won't waste this chance."
Hound rested a hand on his shoulder. "Good."
The weight Quade had carried for four hundred days suddenly felt a little less impossible to carry.
And for the first time since the destruction of his village, Quade found himself believing that he might actually have a future.
"I am ready, Master!"