[the frigid embrace of a desolate winter landscape, where a lone wolf amidst a sea of ice and snow. Each step he took sent shivers coursing through his form, the biting cold gnawing at his bones. Ice spikes jutted menacingly from the ground, threatening to impale him with every misstep.]
[Then, in a jarring shift of scenery, A mere mortal beneath a sky ablaze with fury. The great volcano erupted in a cataclysmic display of power, casting molten fire and ash into the heavens. The ground trembled beneath his feet as rivers of lava flowed like veins of liquid flame, consuming all in their path.]
[In the next instant, The gaze was drawn to a serene lotus flower, its delicate petals unfurling in the soft light of dawn. But before the eyes, the flower wilted and withered, its vibrant hues drained away as it was sucked into the murky depths of the mud below.]
[As Reyoma recoiled from the sight, he was confronted by the chilling reflection of his own visage. His mirrored image stared back at him with hollow eyes, a twisted smirk playing upon his lips. With a sudden, violent motion, the reflection plunged a dagger into its own heart, sending rivulets of crimson cascading down its form.]
[The land was submerged beneath a sea of black water, which appeared to be at knee level. The sky, crimson red with a big crimson sun in the middle, had a stroke of darkness on the outer part. The only respite was a solitary white-petaled sakura tree standing defiantly amidst the desolation. Ashes rained from the crimson sky, casting a pall of death over the bleak landscape.
And there, looming before him, was the creature, towering and imposing in stature. Its form was completely enveloped in an inky blackness, as if it were composed of living shadow. Each aspect of its physique exuded an aura of malevolence and dread.
Its body was elongated and sinewy, with long, twisted limbs ending in razor-sharp claws that gleamed ominously in the darkness. These claws were stained with thick, oozing blood, which dripped steadily from their tips, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.
The creature's features were grotesque and contorted, with a face dominated by glowing, blood-red eyes that seemed to pierce through the very soul of those who dared to meet its gaze. Its mouth was filled with rows of jagged teeth, perpetually bared in a silent snarl, while blood constantly seeped from its lips, forming a gruesome mask of gore.
From every pore and orifice on its body, blood flowed freely, creating a macabre spectacle of dripping crimson. This constant stream of blood never seemed to clot or dry, as if it were an inexhaustible wellspring of suffering and despair. Reyoma trembled in terror as the creature extended a gnarled hand towards him, as if wanting to hold his hand.
With trembling limbs, Reyoma approached, his heart hammering in his chest with each faltering step. As he reached out to grasp the creature's hand, a chill ran down his spine, a sense of dread consuming him from within. Reyoma's eyes were teary as he scratched his forearm with his nail, making blood flow from his forearm to his palm. As their hands touched, a shiver ran down his spine.]
Reyoma was wrenched from the clutches of the nightmare, his body convulsing as he jolted awake. Beads of sweat dotted his brow as he struggled to catch his breath, the echoes of the dream still haunting his waking mind with their lingering tendrils of fear and uncertainty.
As Reyoma's fear and horror slowly dissipated, he found himself staring at his disheveled futon, damp with sweat. 'Sigh... How embarrassing for a young adult like me to be so scared by nightmares,' he mused, frowning at the state of his bedding. 'H-huh? What was the nightmare about? It was so vivid in my memory just now...' Confusion clouded Reyoma's thoughts as he got up and folded his futon, setting it aside in a corner of the room. 'I should stop dwelling on useless things and focus on seeking,' he resolved, knowing there was still time before the sun would rise. 'I should go ahead and take a bath first.' With that decision made, Reyoma gathered his simple white garments, taking the futon with him as he made his way to the nearby river to wash his clothes and bathe.
After bathing in a nearby river at the outskirts of the clan's territory, Reyoma returned home feeling refreshed. He marveled at the dawn painting the world red, a breathtaking sight mirrored by the towering volcano opposite. The volcano stood tall and magnificent, its grandeur evident even from Reyoma's distance of approximately 90,520,000 kilometers. Its summit, obscured by dark clouds raining ashes, reached so high that even craning his neck, Reyoma couldn't glimpse its tip. The volcano's breadth spanned so wide that it seemed to stretch from east to west, a formidable presence in the landscape.
Rendered in awe by the sight, Reyoma eventually turned towards his house, hanging his washed clothes to dry before quietly slipping back into his room, careful not to disturb his still-sleeping mother.
As the morning sun cast its golden hues across the sky, Reyoma stood in his room, clad in the formidable Katabami armor, a symbol of his dedication to his training and his clan. With each piece meticulously fastened in place, he felt a sense of strength and purpose wash over him.
With a final adjustment to his helmet, Reyoma stepped out into the garden, the cool breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers. He drew his katana with practiced ease, the familiar weight of the blade comforting in his grip.
Taking a deep breath, Reyoma began his daily routine, the rhythmic sound of his sword slicing through the air echoing through the tranquil garden. One thousand slashes to the left, one thousand to the right, one thousand upwards, and one thousand downwards, each strike executed with precision and determination.
Meanwhile, in the warmth of the house, Ayaka stirred from her slumber, her movements graceful as she went about her morning chores. With a soft hum, she tidied the living space, her thoughts drifting to the day ahead.
Just as Ayaka finished setting the table for breakfast, a gentle knock sounded at the door. With a smile, she made her way to answer it, revealing Aimi standing on the threshold, her bright eyes filled with energy and enthusiasm.
It was still very early in the morning; the sun had just revealed a quarter of itself. So, almost no one was walking the streets, and many hadn't even woken up yet.
"Good morning, Aimi," Ayaka greeted her, her voice warm and welcoming. "I trust you slept well?"
Aimi nodded eagerly, a grin spreading across her face. "Yes, Ayaka-sama. I'm ready for another day of training."
Ayaka chuckled softly. "That's the spirit. Come, join me for breakfast before we begin."
Trainee seekers of Reyoma's batch only had physical classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday; on other days, they were free. It was arranged this way to allow students to engage in mock battles on those days. It was from these mock battles that the top-performing students were determined. Reyoma tended to skip these battles, so his scores were pretty bad. Considering there were only thirty-one trainee seekers in his batch, he was ranked twenty-sixth in dojo.
As Aimi stepped inside, Ayaka led her to the table, where a simple yet nourishing meal awaited them. The two shared a meal together, exchanging lighthearted conversation and laughter.
Meanwhile, outside in the garden, Reyoma completed his final slash, his muscles warm and his mind focused. With a satisfied nod, he sheathed his katana and made his way back to the house, where he found Ayaka and Aimi deep in conversation.
As Reyoma approached the house, the warmth emanating from within beckoned him closer. With a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure his training area was tidy, he stepped through the door into the comforting embrace of his home.
"Good morning, Reyoma," Ayaka greeted him, her eyes sparkling with pride as she observed his disciplined form. "I trust your training went well?"
Reyoma nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, mother. Another morning of progress."
With a nod of approval, Ayaka gestured for him to join them at the table. Reyoma eagerly complied, his muscles still warm from the exertion of his training. As he took his seat, he reached for the nearby towel and basin of water, quickly wiping away the sheen of sweat that clung to his brow.
The cool water was refreshing against his skin, washing away the remnants of his intense workout. With practiced efficiency, he dried himself off before turning his attention to the breakfast spread before him.
The aroma of freshly cooked rice and miso soup filled the air, enticing Reyoma's senses as he eagerly helped himself to a serving.
As Reyoma sat at the table, he stared down at his breakfast, but the sight of the food failed to stir his appetite. Despite the delicious aroma and the inviting spread before him, his stomach churned uncomfortably, as if weighed down by an invisible burden.
Ayaka noticed his hesitation and furrowed her brow in concern. "Is everything alright, Reyoma? You hardly touched your food."
Reyoma forced a small smile, attempting to mask his unease. "I'm fine, mother. Just not feeling very hungry this morning, I suppose."
As Aimi noticed Reyoma's somber mood, she attempted to lighten the atmosphere with a playful joke. "Hey, Reyoma, are you sure you're not just nervous about facing off against me again?"
Reyoma managed a weak smile at Aimi's attempt to inject humor into the situation, but his mind was too preoccupied to fully engage in the banter.
Reyoma hesitated for a moment, contemplating how to express his feelings without burdening his loved ones. "I... I just don't have much of an appetite this morning, Mother. Maybe I ate too much last night." His attempt to brush off the issue sounded feeble even to his own ears.
Sensing Reyoma's reluctance to delve further into the matter, Ayaka decided to let it rest for the moment, trusting that he would confide in her when he felt ready. With a warm smile, she redirected the conversation. "Well, if breakfast isn't calling to you, Reyoma, perhaps some physical activity will awaken your appetite. Aimi, Reyoma, let's not waste the morning. It's time for your mock battle."
Of course, this mock battle was different from the one held in the clan hall's dojo. This mock battle was a private version of it.
Aimi's eyes lit up with excitement, always eager for a chance to hone her skills. "Yes, Ayaka-sama! I'm ready whenever you are."
Reyoma nodded in agreement, a hint of determination flickering in his eyes. "You're going to lose pitifully today, Aimi."
"Hmm... Is it going to be like yesterday when you were slammed to the ground?" Aimi said, pretending to ponder. "Or will it be like the day before yesterday when I was using your body like a punching bag? Nah, I can't imagine you winning in any situation." Aimi shrugged.
Reyoma clenched his fist, his eyes twitching with regret for starting a conversation with this brat.
Ayaka with a smiling face addressed them both with a tone that brooked no argument. "Remember, this isn't just about skill; it's about strategy and control. Aimi, don't underestimate Reyoma's abilities, and Reyoma, don't hold back. I'll be watching closely."
With that, they headed out to the training grounds, the anticipation of battle palpable in the air.
'Huh, why is my head hurting so much all of a sudden?'