Morning light in the Dragon Kingdom didn’t shine—

  it dripped.

  Thin streams slid down vines, across rooftops, into channels carved into the stone.

  Pyrope woke to the sound of constant water movement, a heartbeat-like rush that filled the air.

  Today would be harder.

  Rhaikor had said it plainly the night before:

  “Your next training is sustained breathing under pressure.

  Your enemy is not insects.

  Your enemy is panic.”

  Pyrope sat up, rubbing his eyes.

  Tidewhisper already stood by the window, hands behind his back, quiet as usual.

  He carried nothing but his small travelling bag—light, worn, holding only knowledge.

  He noticed Pyrope wake and smiled.

  “Ready?”

  Pyrope nodded, pulse unsteady.

  He wasn’t sure if it was anticipation…

  …or something else.

  Training Field — Mid-Slope Channels

  Rhaikor met them by the broad waterway that cut through the middle of the kingdom—

  a slanted river engineered to move faster the higher it went, boosting reptile mobility.

  The morning mist was thick.

  The water roared.

  Rhaikor turned to Pyrope, both eyes aligning for once—

  a sign he was being serious.

  “Today you learn to breathe while moving.

  This kingdom lives on wet roads, fast current, and constant motion.

  To fight here, you must not hesitate.”

  He swept an arm toward the river.

  “Follow me.”

  Then he stepped into the water—

  and ran.

  Literally ran on water.

  His claws found grip on the slippery surface, body angled perfectly with the current.

  Tidewhisper sighed softly.

  “Every time I forget how unreasonable reptiles are…”

  Pyrope inhaled, legs shaking.

  “…I have to follow that?”

  Tidewhisper smiled gently.

  “Not run. Not yet. Just balance.

  But trust me—balancing on running water is already harder than fighting any beast.”

  Pyrope stepped in.

  Cold water grabbed his ankles instantly.

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  He tried to move—

  his foot slipped—

  and he almost plunged.

  Rhaikor’s voice echoed across the river:

  “Bend your knees more. Center of gravity lower.

  Let the water push—

  then redirect it.”

  Pyrope adjusted.

  The water tried to drag him down again.

  He exhaled sharply.

  No panic.

  No fear.

  Control.

  Like Rhaikor taught.

  His body steadied.

  He took his first step.

  Then another.

  He wasn’t running yet—

  but he was moving.

  Rhaikor’s right eye tracked him carefully.

  “Good. You are learning the kingdom’s rhythm.”

  Pyrope swallowed.

  “What’s… that supposed to mean?”

  Rhaikor pointed downstream.

  Reptile soldiers leapt from wall to wall, sliding down wet stone like dancers.

  Another group ran straight through the rivers, water bending around their bodies.

  “This kingdom is alive,” Rhaikor said.

  “Those who fail to move with it fall behind.

  Those who panic drown.”

  Pyrope clenched his fists.

  He wouldn’t drown.

  The Test — Whirligig Swarm

  Rhaikor lifted his spear and pointed into the river.

  “Your target approaches.”

  Pyrope froze.

  Small black shapes danced across the water surface—

  spinning, zig-zagging, colliding, scattering.

  Whirligig beetles.

  Real, common, and annoyingly fast.

  Tidewhisper stepped back instinctively.

  “Oh no. These things again.”

  Rhaikor gave the command:

  “Hit one.”

  Pyrope blinked.

  “That’s it?”

  “That is all.”

  Simple.

  Impossible.

  The beetles spun unpredictably, bouncing off the surface in tight circles.

  Pyrope tried to track one—

  it disappeared.

  He tried again—

  it zig-zagged.

  The water rocked, knocking his balance.

  He stumbled, splashing as his foot slipped.

  “No panic,” Rhaikor said calmly.

  “The water moves. You move with it.”

  Pyrope gritted his teeth.

  Found his stance.

  Deep breath.

  Another.

  Rhaikor’s drills returned to him:

  Balance. Rhythm. Breathing.

  He slowed his eyes.

  Stopped trying to force focus.

  Let the pattern reveal itself.

  One beetle spun left—

  paused—

  darted right.

  In that pause, Pyrope moved.

  Heel forward.

  Pivot.

  Strike.

  His hand slapped the beetle clean off the water—

  it tumbled and sank.

  Pyrope’s chest heaved.

  “I… I got one!”

  Rhaikor did not smile—

  but his left eye softened.

  “Yes. Again.”

  And Pyrope did.

  One beetle.

  Then another.

  Then a third.

  Nightfall — Unease Grows

  After training, they returned to the barracks exhausted.

  Pyrope winced as he sat down—legs trembling from hours of water-balancing.

  Tidewhisper looked troubled, quietly massaging his temples.

  “You alright?” Pyrope asked.

  Tidewhisper hesitated.

  “…The insects today were acting oddly.

  Even Whirligigs don’t swarm that closely.

  Not unless a predator is disturbing them from below.”

  Pyrope’s breath hitched.

  The same pattern as the forest.

  Something pushing wildlife out of place.

  Something moving outward.

  Something humming—

  No.

  He didn’t want to think about that.

  But he couldn’t stop.

  Kingdom Rumors — One Month Left

  At dinner, Rowan returned from speaking with reptile soldiers.

  His face was grim.

  “Four more villages across two kingdoms… gone. No survivors reported.”

  Lira hugged her knees.

  “Why is this happening…?”

  Rowan shook his head.

  “The raiders were never this coordinated. This is… different.”

  Pyrope stayed silent.

  He knew something no one else did.

  Severus’s eye.

  Severus’s voice.

  Severus’s calm interest.

  One month.

  The king’s words echoed again:

  “One month, then leave.”

  Pyrope wasn’t sure one month was enough.

  Rhaikor appeared at their doorway.

  “Training begins earlier tomorrow,” he said.

  “Rest while you can.”

  His split vision focused on Pyrope alone.

  “You are improving.

  But the world is unraveling faster than you are growing.”

  Pyrope looked down.

  “…I know.”

  Rhaikor nodded once and left.

  The sound of dripping water grew louder that night—

  as if the kingdom itself was worried.

  Pyrope curled into his cot, eyes open.

  He wasn’t afraid.

  He was changing.

  And somewhere far from the Dragon Kingdom—

  Severus Blackfang was changing too.

  Growing.

  Gathering.

  Leading.

  A silent war rising from the edges of the world.

  Pyrope exhaled.

  He didn’t know if he could face him.

  But he knew one thing:

  He would have to.

  You were meant to.

  The road ahead only grows darker.