Later that night, after the flurry of preparations for his father's long-awaited return had settled, Jin Mo found himself alone in his room, the weight of his mother's words hanging heavily in the air. The excitement that had once thrummed within him now coiled into something sharper—determination. His heart was still filled with anticipation, but it was laced with an understanding that meeting his father wasn't just about a reunion. It was about proving himself.
I have to show him my strength, Jin Mo thought, his gaze fixed on the darkening sky beyond his window. The gentle breeze stirred the curtains, a whisper of the world outside, as though beckoning him.
He pushed the unsettling thoughts aside and turned toward the darkened corner of his room. With a slow, deliberate motion, Jin Mo drew his hand through the air, tracing the familiar sigil that would tear open the fabric of space. The portal shimmered to life, crackling with energy as a swirl of light spiraled into existence before him.
The graveyard, he thought, stepping forward.
He felt the familiar tug of magic as the portal swallowed him whole, and in an instant, he was standing on the dew-covered ground of the graveyard. The night air here was cool and thick with the scent of damp earth. The sky, casting silver beams through the skeletal branches of the surrounding trees.
His eyes scanned the graveyard, and his gaze quickly landed on the two figures in the distance. Chol Mo and Geol Mo were sparring, their movements graceful and lethal, like the very blades they wielded. There was no doubt in Jin Mo's mind—both of them had grown significantly since their last training session. The air seemed to crackle with their newfound strength as their swords clashed with a sharp, ringing sound that reverberated through the otherwise still night.
Chol Mo, ever the disciplined one, was focused, each strike measured and precise. Geol Mo, on the other hand, moved with a fluidity that was both instinctual and calculated, his attacks swift and unpredictable. It was clear that they had been practicing tirelessly, their bond as brothers in arms only deepening with each passing day. They had become powerful soldiers, just as Jin Mo had always hoped.
But there was something in the air tonight that felt different. It wasn't just the intensity of their sparring. No, it was the quiet, unspoken challenge that seemed to hang between them, as though they knew that Jin Mo's arrival was no mere coincidence. They had trained side by side with him, but now, it felt as though a gap had formed between them. Their growth was undeniable, yet Jin Mo couldn't shake the feeling that he had to surpass them—not just for their sake, but for his own.
As his footsteps echoed softly across the graveyard, Darkie, ever loyal, noticed Jin Mo's presence and bounded over toward him. The small creature's joyful bark was the first sound to break the rhythm of the sparring match. Its tail wagged enthusiastically, and its glowing eyes lit up as it approached, clearly delighted to see its master.
Jin Mo crouched down, a small smile tugging at his lips as he patted Darkie's head. The familiar warmth of the creature's affection was a balm to his conflicted thoughts. Darkie's excitement reminded him of something pure—something untainted by the harshness of his growing responsibilities.
"How's it going, Darkie?" Jin Mo murmured, rubbing the creature's ears. Darkie yipped in response, hopping in place with exuberance.
He stood up and turned his attention back to the sparring match. Chol Mo and Geol Mo had paused, sensing his arrival. They exchanged a brief glance before silently returning to their combat. The intensity of their focus was palpable as they resumed their training, each movement sharpening the edge of their skill.
Jin Mo watched them for a moment longer, his mind filled with a mixture of admiration and resolve. He knew that, in time, he would have to surpass them—not for their approval, but for his own. His journey was not just about proving his worth to his father, but about forging a future where he stood as his own man, as strong as the two warriors before him.
The night carried on, the rhythmic clash of swords blending with the sound of Jin Mo's steady breath. The air around them seemed charged with a silent promise: tomorrow, his father would return. And Jin Mo would show him his strength—not for recognition, but for the future he intended to build.
With that thought, Jin Mo's resolve only solidified, and he joined the training, letting the clash of swords ring out into the night, a prelude to the trials yet to come.