Comfort Zone

The bounty academy is reached by Casimir and the others in the late afternoon. Out of the window, Casimir sees people training. Most of them appear to be around his age, but a few stand out as seeming older. Some people train with each other whereas others train alone, all of whom are enclosed by a metal gate. The wagon stops in front of the gate but continues on after the guard opens it.

"Hey, look! It's Mari!" One boy says.

"Welcome back, Mari!" a girl says.

Everyone greeted Mari, who waves and smiles back at them. The carriage stops in front of the main building. It's enormous, constructed from stone bricks, and bears a striking resemblance to a training barracks. Muzaki opens the door, and Casimir follows Mari out.

"Welcome to the Bounty Academy, Casimir. Since you're an exception, I'll test you out myself." Mari says. Muzaki looks at her, completely dumbfounded.

"M-Mari? Are you sure about that? Do you not want me to do it?" Muzaki asked, feeling completely taken aback. Mari nods.

"I'm sure, Muzaki. Casimir, follow me. Let's get you geared up." Mari's response is followed by a gesture from her to Casimir, inviting him to follow. Casimir follows Mari, and as he does so, he sees a girl with her eyes closed, looking very serene; her sword is jade green and looks custom made for her. The girl takes a deep breath, and within seconds, the training dummy is shattered into countless pieces.

The duo enters the training grounds and Mari hands him a wooden sword.

"Can you use magic?" she asks.

"I can use both magic and Force powers."

Mari looks at Casimir, completely surprised. "Now that's unexpected." She responds. There are many other trainees watching, as well as the girl from before. One guy whispers to his friends, "Who's this new guy, and why is Mari training him?" His friends just shrugged.

"I want you to attack me, and if you can hit me three times within 30 seconds, then our training session will be concluded."

"Why just three times?"

"I'm not easy to hit, Casimir." Mari responded with a smirk layered on her face. Casimir sighs and holds the wooden sword with two hands and with out warning, moves swiftly at Mari, unleashing three strikes in rapid succession, however, only one hit landed, making contact with Mari's side as she dodged the other two.

"Not bad," Mari acknowledges, adjusting her stance. "But speed alone won't cut it." The watching trainees murmur amongst themselves, impressed despite themselves. The girl with the jade sword opens her eyes, a flicker of interest crossing her face before she returns to her meditative state. "Now, show me your force power. Can you enhance your attacks, or perhaps create a diversion? Don't hold back, Casimir. This is your chance to prove yourself." She raises her own wooden sword, anticipation evident in her eyes. "Let's see what you're truly capable of."

Casimir uses his force power to enhance his speed and in a burst of air, causing a minor shockwave; Casimir is already in front of Mari aiming for her shoulder, while two ice crystals on each side, fire at her simultaneously where Casimir once stood. Mari easily blocks and aims to retaliate but the ice crystals throw her off guard, giving Casimir an opening to land his final two hit.

Mari lowered her sword, the wood catching the last rays of afternoon light as she regarded Casimir with a measured nod. "I'm very impressed, Casimir. You not only have speed, but you also have talent," she said, voice carrying enough authority to hush the rest of the trainees. "That'll conclude our training. I strongly suggest you have a few sparring matches with the others—you lack any real-world encounters, and out there, nothing goes according to plan. Consider this a taste of what awaits beyond these walls." She turned, sweeping her gaze over the assembled group. "Real battles are chaotic, unpredictable. This controlled environment is just your foundation. Watch Casimir's adaptability—he combined speed with strategy, not just brute force. Remember this: raw power is meaningless without control or ingenuity." The faintest trace of a smile flickered on her lips, signaling approval without softening her edge. "Dismissed. And Casimir? I expect to see you push your limits even further. Don't let this be your peak." Casimir dipped his head, a grateful yet hungry glint in his eyes. "Thanks, Mari. Maybe someday I'll get to see you go all out in battle," he replied, his voice deep and calm. Mari smirked, already turning toward the main building, leaving Casimir—and the rest of the trainees—wondering just how much more she had yet to reveal.

After Mari dismissed the trainees, the training grounds slowly emptied, save for a handful of stragglers and those unwilling to let the day's lessons end so soon. Casimir stayed behind, his mind still buzzing with the rush of the earlier match and Mari's pointed words. He wandered along the edge of the sparring rings, boots crunching in the gravel, letting the adrenaline taper off. Yet, even as he tried to focus on his breathing and the rhythm of his footsteps, his gaze kept drifting to the far corner, where the girl with the jade sword moved through a series of elegant forms. Her concentration was total—each stance sharp, every swing precise, the pale green blade catching the sun in flashes. Casimir couldn't help but wonder what kind of training or discipline forged that kind of focus.

He barely had time to process the curiosity settling in his chest before a shadow passed over him. Three boys blocked his way, their uniforms slightly scuffed, faces set with the kind of bravado that always preceded trouble. The tallest of the trio—ginger hair, a constellation of freckles across a sunburned nose—stepped forward, the tension in his shoulders matched only by the bitterness in his eyes. He looked Casimir up and down, lips curling in a forced sneer. "I didn't think you were that impressive, to be honest," he spat, voice loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, as if he needed an audience.

Casimir regarded him coolly, refusing to rise to the bait. "Who are you?" he asked, the question flat, his tone almost dismissive. That hint of indifference seemed to cut deeper than any direct insult, and Casimir could see irritation flicker across the boy's face. "I am the number one fire user, Dawson the Profound," the boy announced, puffing out his chest and striking a pose—arms folded, chin lifted—clearly rehearsed but lacking the gravitas he intended. The effect was awkward, almost comical, but the dangerous glint in Dawson's eyes warned Casimir not to underestimate him.

"Uh huh. Never heard of you," Casimir replied, eyebrow arching slightly, his expression the picture of nonchalance. Dawson's jaw clenched as he fought to keep his composure, but his friends, emboldened by their leader's bravado, closed in, forming a loose circle around Casimir. The air grew thick with the promise of confrontation. Dawson leaned forward, voice dropping to a threatening whisper, a malicious grin tugging at his lips. "Soon you will," he said, menace layered beneath the words.

Unbeknownst to the group, the girl with the jade sword had paused her practice, her attention subtly shifting to the brewing standoff. She didn't intervene, not yet, but her grip tightened around her sword's hilt, eyes narrowed in quiet appraisal, as if weighing whether to step in—or simply watch and see how Casimir would handle his first taste of rivalry outside Mari's lessons.

Casimir let out a quiet sigh, the kind that carried more resignation than fear. He straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders back as he sized up the boys now circling him. There was no bravado in his movements—just a calm acceptance, as if he'd already played this scene out in his head a dozen times. His hands dropped loosely to his sides, fingers flexing in anticipation, every muscle in his body settling into the readiness that came from hours of disciplined training. He glanced once toward the girl with the jade sword, catching her watchful gaze, then turned his full attention to Dawson and his friends. The tension in the air thickened, every bystander suddenly alert, but Casimir's face remained unreadable. "If it's a fight you want," he said quietly, "then don't waste my time." The words weren't a taunt, but a simple fact—a statement of intent, delivered with the cool certainty of someone who knew exactly what he was capable of.