The end of the first trial

The first rays of dawn stretched across the horizon, painting the sky with hues of gold and crimson. Makoto sat beneath the shelter of an ancient oak tree, his body aching from the countless skirmishes he had endured. The faint rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds were a stark contrast to the chaos that had reigned just hours ago.

His shirt was torn and bloodied, revealing deep gashes and bruises scattered across his torso. He gritted his teeth as he applied the herbal salve Yuna had prepared, its cooling sensation doing little to numb the sharp sting of his wounds.

Nearby, Hiro and Kazu were sprawled on the ground, their exhaustion evident in their slumped shoulders and heavy breathing. Yet, despite their battered state, a sense of triumph lingered in the air.

"Makoto, you're still at it?" Hiro's voice carried a mix of fatigue and admiration. He tossed a fresh bandage roll toward Makoto. "You're like a machine. Take a break before you collapse."

Makoto caught the bandage with one hand, his movements precise despite his injuries. "Rest can wait. The next stage won't care about how tired we are."

Hiro chuckled, though it was laced with weariness. "You're relentless, you know that?"

"That's why we're still here," Kazu interjected, carefully arranging their collection of tokens into neat stacks. His fingers moved with a steady rhythm, counting each one with meticulous care.

"Thirty-three for me," Kazu said, setting his pile aside. "Hiro, you've got thirty-four, right?"

Hiro nodded, stretching his arms with a groan. "Yep. And let me guess... Makoto's got twice that."

Kazu smirked, glancing at Makoto's stack. "Not quite, but close. Fifty-two."

Hiro let out a low whistle. "Of course. Always the overachiever."

Makoto stood, his movements slow but deliberate. He joined the brothers, placing his tokens alongside theirs. The combined pile shimmered in the soft morning light, a tangible testament to their hard-earned victories.

"Eighty-six in total," Makoto said, his voice steady. "We've secured our spot in the next stage."

Yuna approached them, her delicate frame silhouetted against the rising sun. She carried a small bundle of herbs, her expression a mix of concern and relief.

"You shouldn't be moving so much," she chided gently, kneeling beside Makoto. She handed him the herbs, her fingers brushing against his briefly. "Here. These will help with the deeper wounds."

Makoto accepted the herbs with a nod of gratitude, crushing the leaves into a paste and applying it to a jagged cut along his forearm. "Thanks. But we can't afford to let our guard down, not now. Kael won't take his loss lightly."

Hiro leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. "No kidding. That guy's got enough pride to fill an ocean. He'll definitely be gunning for us in the next stage."

"The one-on-one fights," Kazu mused, his tone thoughtful. "They're a whole different beast. The first trial was about survival, but now... it's personal."

Yuna's gaze lingered on Makoto, her eyes reflecting a quiet worry. "Do you think Kael will try something before the fights begin?"

Makoto's expression hardened, a cold determination flickering in his eyes. "If he does, I'll make sure it's the last mistake he ever makes."

The weight of his words hung in the air, silencing the group for a moment. Then Hiro clapped his hands, breaking the tension.

"Alright, enough doom and gloom," he said, his voice laced with forced cheer. "We've got eighty-six tokens, we're alive, and we're heading to Blue Wave City. Let's focus on that for now."

The group nodded in agreement, gathering their belongings and setting off toward the city. The journey was arduous, the path winding through dense forests and rocky terrain. Along the way, they passed other disciples-some limping, others carrying the injured-all bearing the marks of the first trial.

Blue Wave City loomed in the distance as the sun reached its zenith, its towering gates casting long shadows over the bustling streets. The city was alive with activity, a stark contrast to the wilderness they had just left behind. Merchants shouted their wares, and disciples from various sects exchanged strategies and boasts as they prepared for the next stage.

"First things first," Makoto said as they entered the city. His voice was calm, but his eyes scanned their surroundings with a sharp intensity. "We need to find an inn and rest. Then we can start preparing for the one-on-one fights."

They found a modest inn near the heart of the city, its wooden exterior adorned with faded carvings of mythical beasts. The innkeeper, a stout man with a jovial demeanor, greeted them warmly.

"You've got good timing," he said, handing them a room key. "The place is filling up fast with all the disciples pouring in for the exams. Must be tough out there."

Makoto nodded, offering a polite but curt response. Inside their room, the group spread out, each claiming a corner to rest. Makoto sat by the window, his gaze fixed on the bustling streets below.

"What's the plan?" Kazu asked, breaking the silence as he leaned against the wall.

Makoto turned to face the group, his expression thoughtful. "The one-on-one fights won't just test our strength. They're about strategy, skill, and adaptability. We need to study our opponents, figure out their weaknesses, and prepare accordingly."

Hiro smirked, stretching out on the floor. "Sounds like you've got it all figured out already."

"Not yet," Makoto admitted, his tone serious. "But I will."

The rest of the day was spent gathering information. The group wandered through the city's markets, training grounds, and taverns, listening to rumors and observing other disciples. They watched sparring matches, noting fighting styles and potential weaknesses.

As night fell, they returned to the inn, their minds buzzing with strategies and possibilities. Makoto sat alone by the window, the faint glow of the Heart of Lumina beneath his robes a constant reminder of the burden-and power-he carried.

The first trial had tested their endurance, their will to survive. But the next stage would test something far deeper. Makoto tightened his grip on the windowsill, his resolve unwavering.