The sky stretched wide above Toruri and Hiyoku, as they trudged through the barren, sun-drenched fields of the Outlands. The landscape was harsh and open, a dry and seemingly endless expanse of golden grass and jagged rocks. The air hummed with a distant heat, casting a mirage-like shimmer over their path as they ventured further from the comfort of the village behind them.
Hiyoku shot Toruri a skeptical glance. "Why're we going so far away from the village? We might as well head back to the forest!" he grumbled, squinting as a gust of wind sent dust flying past them.
Toruri shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face. "If we go far enough from the village, we'll have a clear path to the jungle," he explained calmly. "All we need to do is enter the forest away from the village's boundaries."
Hiyoku raised his eyebrows, his expression shifting from irritation to reluctant admiration. "That's actually a pretty clever idea… let's go for it!"
Toruri gave him a sidelong glance, chuckling. "We're already doing it, idiot!"
Rolling his eyes, Hiyoku asked, "So, how far do we have to go for this plan?"
Toruri shrugged, his pace steady and unhurried. "We could start anytime, really. How about now?"
"Alright, then," Hiyoku agreed, and the two redirected their steps toward the shadowed entrance of the jungle, the fields giving way to darker, denser terrain. The transition felt like a threshold into another world.
"This shouldn't take too long," Toruri muttered, more to himself than to Hiyoku.
"So," Hiyoku started, breaking the comfortable silence, "have you heard the news about the other season students banding together to rescue Ryoshi?"
Toruri nodded, his expression unreadable. "Oh yeah. I wonder how long it'll take them to reach us. Took me four months, even on a sped-up boat."
"It didn't take me long to get here," Hiyoku replied, shrugging as if the journey had been a casual stroll. "I think they'll arrive quicker than you did too."
Toruri smirked. "I was just enjoying the ride."
"Right, well, their arrival means our training's ending soon. But honestly?" Hiyoku's tone grew fierce, eyes glinting with determination. "I think I'm ready for whatever those M.A.G.I.C people throw at us!"
"I haven't fought many of them," Toruri admitted with a nonchalant wave of his hand, "but they don't seem like anything we can't handle."
"Can't wait to catch up to Ryoshi," Hiyoku continued, his voice carrying a trace of excitement. "I need to fight him again."
Toruri raised an eyebrow, amused. "You seem pretty obsessed with Ryoshi."
Hiyoku's gaze darkened, intense with an almost predatory hunger. "Because he's my ticket to strength. From what I've heard, he's the number one prodigy in the Negative Point."
"Yeah," Toruri agreed, crossing his arms as he walked. "He picks things up fast."
Hiyoku's voice grew intense, admiration laced with a note of jealousy. "For a mere human, he can casually train, master techniques most people struggle with, and push past his own physical limits—CASUALLY!"
"That's why he's the inheritor," Toruri said, a knowing edge to his voice. "And it's why Kuroshi doesn't like him."
"That silent girl?" Hiyoku pondered, his brows furrowing. "She seems powerful too. She awakened her weapon, after all."
"Yep," Toruri said with a chuckle, recalling the memory. "I've been on the receiving end of one of her 'Ryoshi hate rants.' Her point was that having some 'random nobody from outside the Negative Point' become such a powerful fighter undermines the whole purpose of season students."
Hiyoku shrugged, dismissing the thought with a scoff. "Well, I think Ryoshi's just a talented guy. As long as he keeps getting stronger, he pushes me to get stronger too."
Toruri glanced at him, smirking. "Why not set your sights on someone like Nagarimu? She's just as much of a prodigy as Ryoshi. She even awakened her weapon."
Hiyoku made a disgruntled noise and turned to face Toruri, his voice carrying an edge. "Tch, let me tell you a story, Toruri."
In a flash, the scene shifted—Hiyoku was standing in a pool of molten lava. The heat of the lava pulsed and glowed, casting the rugged rock walls of Hell-Hound Volcano in an eerie red. The thick, viscous liquid reached up to his thighs, swirling around his legs as if trying to pull him down into its fiery depths. But Hiyoku stood undaunted, unfazed by the unbearable heat that would have incinerated any ordinary person.
The scorching heat radiated from the lava pits in waves, distorting the air and casting a fiery red glow across the cavern. Hiyoku stood motionless in the lava, his figure outlined against the molten landscape as he stared off into the distance, his mind elsewhere.
A voice echoed through the cavern. "Hiyoku!"
Shimisu's voice rang out sharply as he and Sani leaped gracefully into view, landing on a ledge high above the magma. Shimisu, his eyes sharp and observant, stood balanced on the narrow rock edge, while Sani clutched a crumpled newspaper in one hand, its edges slightly singed from the intense heat.
Hiyoku glanced up, a grin stretching across his face. "The reports are here?" he called, leaping out of the lava in one smooth motion to join them on the ledge.
Shimisu nodded, holding back a small smirk. "Yep!"
"What's up?" Hiyoku asked, excitement and impatience crackling in his voice.
Shimisu's expression grew serious, though a glint of humor lingered in his eyes. "You did the worst among the inheritors," he announced.
"Wait, WHAT?!" Hiyoku exclaimed, snatching the newspaper from Sani's hands. He frantically scanned the pages, his eyes widening with each line. "Ryoshi Taisaku: two wins, one excused round. Nagarimu Mae: two wins, one loss. Osoi Tsuki: one loss, two excused. Hiyoku Esugan: one win, two losses…" His jaw clenched as he muttered, "This is BULLSHIT!"
Sani shrugged, her expression calm. "You did lose twice."
"Not the point!" Hiyoku retorted, his frustration clear. "If anyone should be at the bottom, it's Osoi! How did he even make it as a season student? He either loses outright or messes up so bad he awakens a demon!"
Sani raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Meanwhile, Ryoshi almost went flawless, and Nagarimu actually killed someone. The most memorable thing you managed to do during promotion season was punch Osoi really hard."
Hiyoku shot her a glare. "Like you did any better, Sani…"
"Oh, I wasn't the worst," Sani replied with a smug smile. "That honor goes to Arasu among the assassins and snipers."
Ignoring her, Hiyoku glanced back down at the newspaper, his eyes tracing the section on the assassins and snipers. The scores read:
Arasu Okyamasu: two losses, one excused.
Sani Hikari: one win, two losses.
Kuroshi Okyamasu: one win, one loss, one excused.
Mizuma Fukaiumi: perfect three.
Hiyoku's jaw dropped. "Perfect three?!"
Sani gave a casual nod. "Technically, he was the best-performing student."
Shimisu added, "Ryoshi could have gone perfect, too, if Osoi hadn't, well… gone demon."
Sani tilted her head thoughtfully. "Think Mizuma would make a better rival for you, Hiyoku? He uses water magic."
Shimisu shook his head, his voice firm. "Nah, fire versus ice is a better match. Both affect temperature directly. Water just… makes things wet, whether it's cold or hot."
Hiyoku barely registered their debate as he flipped to the scores for the trappers and mages:
Enerida Ochigawai: one win, one loss, one tie.
Shimisu Hikari: one win, one loss, one tie.
Haiamu Hokaku: one win, two losses.
Toruri Doragane: two wins, one loss.
He couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle. "And once again, a fall season student ranks the lowest."
Shimisu crossed his arms defensively. "Her only win was against me, and in my defense, I didn't go all out. I held back, using non-lethal bombs."
Hiyoku sighed, his frustration resurfacing. "But I still can't believe I did the worst among inheritors!"
Sani gave him a wry smile. "Hiyoku, it's only one or two scores that put you lower than the others. You don't have to make it seem like a tragedy."
Hiyoku's face hardened with resolve. "I'm not letting this happen again! Where's Master Taiyo?"
A voice from behind him, calm and unassuming, made Hiyoku spin around. "Right here."
Taiyo stood behind him, his stance relaxed yet emanating a quiet strength. The corners of Hiyoku's mouth quirked up as a mischievous glint flashed in his eyes. "Heh, sneak attack!" Without a second thought, he swung a fist toward Taiyo.
With a swift, almost lazy swipe of his hand, Taiyo deflected the blow effortlessly, his expression unchanging. "Don't yell 'sneak attack' when you're obviously not sneaking up on anyone," he chided. "If you want to catch someone off guard, do something like… this." Taiyo's foot shot out in a swift kick, connecting squarely with Hiyoku's face.
Hiyoku stumbled back, landing flat on his back, a stunned expression on his face as Taiyo looked down, his eyebrow raised with a mixture of amusement and expectation.
Taiyo observed Hiyoku with a knowing, mildly exasperated look. "So, what are you planning on doing, Hiyoku?" he asked, crossing his arms. "You could always stick to training like a normal student."
Hiyoku's eyes glimmered with fierce determination. "I'm going to—"
"Find Mizuma or Ryoshi and fight them," Taiyo finished, the hint of a smile in his voice.
Hiyoku's jaw dropped. "What the—"
Taiyo shook his head. "I know you too well, Hiyoku. It's obvious you'd target two of the best-performing students, including one you've already lost to. But, tell me—what's different about you now compared to the last time you fought Ryoshi?"
Hiyoku puffed out his chest proudly. "I've gotten a lot stronger!"
Taiyo's gaze narrowed as he pressed on. "Yet you still carry the same glaring weakness. Your losses weren't because you lacked power—they happened because of your lack of mana control. You let loose these massive blasts of fire, convinced your opponent will either stand still or won't be fast enough to dodge. But twice now, you've overestimated yourself and underestimated them."
Hiyoku clenched his fists but couldn't argue. "Yeah, I get it. But I still beat Osoi!"
"Osoi?" Taiyo scoffed slightly. "He's hardly trained, Hiyoku. He doesn't hold a candle to Nagarimu or Ryoshi in terms of skill, and he only knows destructive spells. It was a perfect match for you: an opponent with little experience, whose brute-force spells you could outmatch with your own."
Hiyoku's voice grew defensive. "But I have changed!"
Taiyo raised a brow, unimpressed. "Has your mana control improved?"
Hiyoku hesitated, his voice dropping. "No… but—"
"Then that's where we'll start." Taiyo's tone softened, though his expression remained serious. "Unless, of course, you'd rather risk being humiliated by Ryoshi or Mizuma again?"
Hiyoku's eyes narrowed defiantly. "I haven't even fought that Mizuma guy yet!"
Taiyo gave a quiet, thoughtful nod. "True—you were unconscious during his last match. But from what I've seen, he might just be the strongest student right now."
Hiyoku's eyes widened with anticipation. "Really? Well, that's all the more reason to find him and fight!"
Taiyo sighed and shook his head. "Alright, I'll let you go. You know the way to Dove Island, just… don't cause any trouble up there. I'd rather not have the Great Ones lecturing me again."
"Yes, sir!" Hiyoku called, his face lit with a newfound excitement. Without another word, he bolted toward one of the lava tunnel exits, dashing out of the volcano with the speed of a fire-fueled storm.
Shimisu, who had been watching silently, chuckled. "He's probably gonna blow something up."
Sani raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty funny coming from you."
Shimisu shot her a blank stare. "Mind shining some light on what you mean by that? I'm clueless."
Taiyo gave a rare smile, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Hard to believe I raised two cornballs."
Hours passed, and Hiyoku found himself weaving through the crowded streets of the Negative Point, his focus set, his pulse quickening with anticipation.
Hiyoku bolted through the dusky streets, the thought nagging in his mind as he grumbled, "Note to self: I've gotta up my speed on the ground!" His gaze flickered upward, finally spotting Dove Island—a colossal, cloud-shrouded mass floating serenely in the night sky.
I've been chasing this stupid island all day! he thought, irritated. It's practically night now, and I haven't even gotten close! Does Mizuma even live up there?!
Exhausted, he stopped to catch his breath. "Screw it! I'm flying up there!" Taking a deep breath, he shouted, "Phoenix Magic: Phoenix Wing One!"
In a flash, his right side burst into flames, forming the shape of a phoenix's wing. With one powerful flap, he rocketed into the sky, the wind screaming past him as he climbed high above the floating island. Disabling his Phoenix Wing, he let himself drop, plummeting down towards the island below before landing with a soft thud on the grass. The island was cloaked in the deep, inky blackness of night, the shadows long and ominous.
This feels illegal, he thought with a shiver, half-amused, half-nervous.
Undeterred, Hiyoku took off running through the forest, vaulting over glistening ponds and weaving around ancient shrines nestled among the trees. His direction was aimless, an uncertain yet driven sprint through the unknown. Where am I even going? he thought, exasperated, just as a thunderous bang echoed through the dense forest.
"Alright… wrong way," he muttered, rolling his eyes as he pivoted, bolting back toward the sound. He pushed himself harder, the explosive sounds echoing louder with each step. That was loud! Hiyoku thought, excitement mingling with caution. What if this isn't Mizuma?
Two more thunderous booms shook the forest, quelling his doubts. Whoever it is, he thought, grinning, they'll give me a good fight.
After several minutes of sprinting, he emerged from the dense foliage into a clearing. Standing there, shirtless and intense, was Mizuma, his scythe suspended from a tree branch by a thin string of water. Mizuma struck the scythe with his fists, sending out a shockwave so strong that the trees themselves seemed to bow under its force, leaves fluttering down like raindrops.
"Mizuma?" Hiyoku called, stepping forward.
Mizuma turned, surprise flashing in his eyes. "Hiyoku?! What're you doing here?"
"I came here to fight you!"
Mizuma chuckled, shaking his head. "Sounds wicked sick, dude, but I'm in the middle of training."
Hiyoku cocked his head, intrigued. "What exactly are you doing?"
Mizuma gave a casual shrug. "Just using my magical weapon as a punching bag, anchoring it to a water string I'm controlling. Plus, I'm strengthening this tree by channeling my magic through it."
Hiyoku whistled, impressed. "So, you're a heavy trainer! No wonder you're the strongest student!"
"It's more than that," Mizuma replied, his voice dipping to a quiet seriousness. He launched into a rapid series of blows against the scythe, each punch echoing with purpose. "I know how to kill people."
Hiyoku scoffed lightly. "Don't we all?"
"Not the way I do." Mizuma's voice was steady, but his words bore a weight that silenced Hiyoku. "Yeah, we're all trained to kill. Every student here has the power to end a life. But my master trained me to kill with intent—this is the way of the assassin."
Mizuma shifted to kicking the scythe, his form as fluid as water yet powerful as steel. "Trappers are taught to outmaneuver and immobilize, snipers are trained to maintain distance and still be deadly, mages either support or dominate offensively, and inheritors are trained to master their element. But assassins? We're trained to kill, whether we want to or not."
Switching back to his fists, Mizuma continued, his voice edged with a grim sense of purpose. "What sets me apart as the strongest? I'm the only assassin who does his job. The fall season team was built outside the typical mold. Arasu is strong, but she's not an assassin. Instead, they've turned her into a berserker. I'm the only one trained solely to end lives. Many of the techniques I know could kill instantly; that's why I couldn't use them during the promotion tests."
Hiyoku looked at him, intrigued but baffled. "Why not just go all out, then? Your inheritor killed someone."
Mizuma shook his head. "I don't kill allies. Nagarimu's mindset is… different. She's been drilled by her mother to be the best—no, to be unbeatable. I don't even train half as much as she does, and I train ten hours straight every day."
Hiyoku's jaw dropped. "Ten hours a day?! How much more does she do?"
"She trains every day, all week long. Breaks only to eat every two weeks, a water break every three days, sleeps every ten days. And she still goes on missions with us. Her regard for others? Practically nonexistent. If someone isn't at her level, she'll end them without a second thought."
The anticipation hung thick in the air as Hiyoku's expression twisted in shock and awe. "Wow."
Mizuma's voice carried a distant, unsettling weight. "Ryoshi was the first and only person ever to survive a slash from her. The genuine thrill she felt in that fight was... disturbing. She viewed him as nothing more than an intriguing specimen." His eyes darkened. "She killed Cenione on the spot, taking pride in it. And when she fought you, she expected you to bleed out where you stood. If she hadn't killed someone right before, they wouldn't have ended the match so soon."
Hiyoku's face tightened. "I wasn't fully unconscious, but I succumbed to the blood loss soon after they called it. How many rules were there for the promotion test, anyway?"
Mizuma gave a slight, humorless chuckle. "Plenty. Nagarimu wasn't the only one stirring things up that day. Just minutes after Cenione's death, one of my magical weapon abilities activated, knocking Arasu out cold. That unexpected twist handed the win to me. But here's the thing, Hiyoku—Nagarimu doesn't represent the whole team. Killing isn't a trivial action; it's a calculated choice. Even when Enerida tried to frame it differently, I understood her fully."
Hiyoku nodded thoughtfully. "So you held back some of your techniques."
Mizuma shrugged, a faint smirk creeping onto his face. "That's right. But you came here to fight, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I did."
"Wicked cool, yo. So, how would you like me to fight you?"
"Hand-to-hand, of course. And don't be afraid to use those techniques of yours."
Mizuma's brows arched, a faint look of concern softening his expression. "You sure, dude? I'd rather not end up killing you."
"I can handle it," Hiyoku replied firmly.
Still, Mizuma hesitated, his gaze lingering. "Alright, but I'm still giving myself some handicaps. Just in case."
Hiyoku's thoughts buzzed with anticipation, For the first time, I'm actually fine with someone holding back. This is my chance to see if he's a true rival.
With a grin, Mizuma pulled a white cloth from his pocket and wrapped it around his eyes, securing it with a practiced ease. "There, blindfolded! Make your first move!"
Hiyoku's eyes narrowed. Alright, here goes. No other student from the season is supposed to be stronger than the inheritor, right? I only got unlucky with Nagarimu; this guy's toast.
His fists burst into flames, the fiery glow lighting his fierce grin as he charged forward. He swung his blazing fist at Mizuma, who effortlessly dodged the attack without missing a beat.
Hiyoku's stomach clenched. He's blindfolded... yet he dodged me so easily?
Determined, he ignited his other hand, both fists now ablaze with scorching fire. He launched a relentless flurry of punches, but Mizuma sidestepped each one as though he could see the attacks coming.
What's going on?! Hiyoku's mind reeled as he attacked. It's as if my fists aren't even there—he's moving with such precision, it's like my punches never even happened!
Mizuma's voice broke the tension, calm and sure. "Flow like water, strike like—"
He thrust his palm forward, hitting Hiyoku square in the chest.
"Wave!" he cried, the words carrying a strange energy. "Blood Magic: Internal Whiplash!"
Hiyoku felt an invisible force shove him backward, sending him hurtling into a nearby tree. He staggered to his feet, his chest throbbing, a sense of unease filling him. Did he just… manipulate my blood?
Regaining his composure, Hiyoku's hands flared up once more as he summoned fireballs, their intense heat crackling in his palms. "You're good, but let's see you handle this!" With a sharp flick, he launched the barrage of fireballs at Mizuma.
"Swift like tides, fierce like currents. Water Magic: Tidal Current Cloak," Mizuma chanted, his voice steady as twin orbs of water encased his fists. Lunging forward, Mizuma met each fireball head-on, punching through them one by one. The water extinguished the flames with a sharp hiss, leaving steam to swirl in his wake.
The water cloaks faded as he closed the distance between them, his expression unreadable. Hiyoku's fists rose, blazing once more as he readied himself.
Hiyoku struck first, launching a series of jabs and hooks that sliced through the air with fiery determination. But each punch met only empty space as Mizuma sidestepped, evading Hiyoku's every move with effortless grace. And as Hiyoku drew back for another strike, Mizuma retaliated with swift, calculated blows aimed at Hiyoku's joints, intending to dismantle his form.
"Dude," Mizuma said with a dry chuckle as he weaved around Hiyoku's punches, "you fight like a barbarian. There's no technique in these swings."
Scowling, Hiyoku threw another punch, and Mizuma dodged with ease, tapping Hiyoku's arm lightly before bringing his own arm down in a fierce, precise chop. A sharp crack resounded through the air, and pain exploded through Hiyoku's shoulder as his arm went limp.
"DAAAH!!" Hiyoku cried out, clutching his arm as the searing ache intensified.
Mizuma's demeanor shifted, his expression flickering with genuine concern. "Hiyoku! Are you alright?"
Gritting his teeth, Hiyoku forced a smirk. "I'm fine! I can keep fighting!"
Without hesitation, he ignited his foot in a burst of flame, aiming a fiery kick at Mizuma. But Mizuma sidestepped, once again dodging smoothly.
"Are you sure?" Mizuma asked, glancing at Hiyoku's limp arm. "I think I might've broken it—"
"I said I'll be fine!" Hiyoku cut him off, lunging forward with renewed ferocity. Mizuma dodged every swing with the same, unbothered ease.
"Alright, alright!" Mizuma said, raising his hands. In one fluid motion, he extended a single finger and jabbed Hiyoku with blinding speed, striking points across Hiyoku's body faster than he could register. Suddenly, Hiyoku's knees buckled, and he fell backward, unable to control his limbs.
"My body... it can't move!" he gasped, his eyes wide.
Mizuma exhaled calmly. "Assassin technique: Paralyzation. It shuts down your body's movement. Can you get up?"
A tense moment passed as Hiyoku's fingers began to twitch, his sheer will forcing his body to respond. Slowly, he climbed to his feet, breathing hard but standing firm.
"I won't go down until I'm knocked out!" he declared defiantly.
Mizuma smirked, his tone playfully ominous. "Very well. I guess I'll have to bring you down with a savage strike!"
"I'll finish this!" Hiyoku shouted, fire crackling to life in his hand. He glanced at Mizuma, brow furrowing beneath the heat of his flame. How is he able to dodge everything through that blindfold? Then he noticed Mizuma sniffing the air subtly. Could it be his sense of smell? I'll just have to blow that away!
Without hesitation, Hiyoku unleashed a blazing beam of fire, aiming directly at Mizuma. Mizuma leapt into the air, vaulting gracefully over the scorching flames as they seared across the ground.
"Damn it, I can't move—" Hiyoku growled, but before he could process his next move, Mizuma's voice sliced through the air.
"Assassin Technique: Assassin Strike!" With blinding speed, Mizuma vanished, only to reappear in a flash beside Hiyoku, slamming a kick across Hiyoku's chest. The impact sent him reeling backward, the force powerful enough to thrust Mizuma into the side of a nearby tree. He landed feet-first, using the momentum to spring higher into the sky.
"Water Magic: Waterfall Crash!" Mizuma roared, his body becoming enveloped in a swirling torrent of water. He plummeted down, crashing into Hiyoku with the full weight of a waterfall, creating a column of water that erupted from the impact. When the water receded, Hiyoku lay on his back, drenched, as Mizuma stood over him.
Mizuma extended a hand. "I know you're not knocked out... but you wanna call it quits?"
After a moment's hesitation, Hiyoku's lips curled into a smirk. He pushed himself to his feet, nodding with a reluctant grin. "Yeah."
Mizuma blinked, stunned. He actually gave up?!!
Hiyoku laughed softly, shaking his head. "You're strong. I'm not even close to your level. How did you get this strong?"
"That's what years of training will do," Mizuma replied, as he removed the blindfold and picked up his discarded shirt, slipping it back on. "Our master's determined to make us the strongest, so she works us twice as hard as everyone else."
He slung his shirt over his shoulder, turning to leave. "Well, I'm heading home. See ya."
Hiyoku's eyes widened, feeling the moment slip away. "Wait—you're just leaving?"
"Yeah, I need rest too." Mizuma's magical aura faded, and he began to turn away.
"Wait! Don't go!"
Mizuma paused, glancing back with mild curiosity. "Hm?"
"I... I have so many things I want to ask you!"
Mizuma shrugged. "I live in East Negative Point. You can find me there, or you can wait until I'm back here."
Hiyoku clenched his fists, his voice brimming with resolve. "W-Will you be my rival?"
Mizuma looked over his shoulder, blinking in surprise. "C-Come again?"
Hiyoku's face held a fierce determination. "Be my rival!"
A small, amused smile spread across Mizuma's face. "Aren't I a little too strong for you?"
"Your strength will only make me stronger!" Hiyoku said, fire in his eyes.
With a chuckle, Mizuma replied, "My advice? Find someone closer to your level. You two can grow and push each other. I'm no expert, but I think that's a solid way to get stronger." And with that, Mizuma turned, disappearing into the forest.
"But—" Hiyoku's words trailed off as Mizuma's figure faded from sight.
A smile crept across his face. "Heh. Guess that makes it you then, Ryoshi Taisaku. You'd better stay strong, because as long as you're strong, you're worthy enough to be my rival."
Hiyoku blinked, snapping back to the present, the vivid memory of his fight with Mizuma still fresh in his mind. "Nagarimu is powerful," he muttered, "but I don't want a rival who's all training and no emotion. Kuroshi's wrong about Ryoshi—it's a blessing to have someone as talented as him on our side. Fate gave us a strong kid, and we're lucky to have him."
Toruri nodded in agreement, his expression resolute. "And that's exactly why we're going to rescue him."
Hiyoku's eyes flashed with determination, his body thrumming with energy. "Well, then, let's speed this mission up!" With that, he took off running, the urgency of their task pushing him forward.
Toruri watched him go, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, let's get to the jungle!" he called, dashing after him, the two racing side by side into the dense foliage ahead.