"Hope is the Soul's Blade"

The Gothia sky was a gray and cold canvas, mirroring the emptiness Leonard carried within him. The morning after Liam's death, so brutal and unexpected, had robbed him of more than a friend; it had stolen his hope. Guilt gnawed at his insides, a constant weight that prevented him from breathing freely.

With heavy steps and slumped shoulders, Leonard headed towards the training ground near the Guild House. In his hands, the new swords, gifts from Liam before the fateful mission, seemed to weigh tons. With each step, the silver gleam of the blades reflected his somber face, marked by pain and determination.

He needed to get stronger. Not just to survive, but to protect those he cared about. The memory of those who were gone was the last fuel remaining that kept him moving forward. He couldn't fail them. He couldn't allow anyone else he loved to fall victim to Humbra's cruelty, especially after saving him.

After passing through the central square and approaching the training ground, the clinking of swords could be heard from afar. The vast area with targets, cloth dummies, and a training course was slightly crowded. Some instructors present gave orders and taught those who could afford it, while the rest trained on their own.

Entering the training ground, Leonard isolated himself in a corner, away from the curious glances and lively conversations of the other guards and Neumonds. The vibrant and competitive atmosphere of the place seemed distant, an echo of a world he didn't want to belong to. His mind was a whirlwind of dark thoughts as he replayed the fight against Fleshripper, Liam's death, and the promise of revenge he had made.

"I need to be better," he murmured to himself, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion. "I need to be faster, stronger, smarter."

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, seeking the calm that eluded him. He remembered the elite Gnoll's axe, leaving its disgusting and filthy hand, in slow motion, spinning in infinite tranquility, the blade whistling slowly through the air. He fixated on this feeling, and just before the memory of Liam being hit surfaced, he forced himself to remember Roland.

Cherishing his memories, he thought of the words Roland had spoken like a caring mentor, and they echoed in his mind: "Be like the wind, be like the water..." and Leo concluded, "Be the dance itself."

Opening his eyes, Leonard unsheathed his swords, the cold, sharp Frosteel contrasting with the heat emanating from his hands. He began a series of sword forms, slow and precise movements, seeking the fluidity and harmony that Roland had taught him.

"Not yet, more! I need to go deeper!" Leo murmured.

With each strike, each step, he focused on perfecting his technique, on becoming one with the blades, his focus becoming more and more superhuman. The sword forms he practiced were purely intuitive, which made it difficult for him to deeply understand swordsmanship.

Gradually, sadness and guilt gave way to determination. With each movement, each drop of sweat that trickled down his forehead, Leonard felt the rage transform into strength, the pain into focus. He was no longer the insecure boy who had left Besen; he had become a warrior, forged in the fire of loss and revenge.

For hours, he trained tirelessly, challenging himself and his limits. Finally, he stopped in a combat stance, panting tiredly, let out a long, deep sigh, and sheathed his swords. He felt like he was almost there.

Two novice Neumonds present had just received training with their respective instructors and spotted Leonard isolated in the corner of the field.

"Look there, who's back? Isn't it the dummy fairy?" said a burly Neumond.

"Aha! Look at that, who knew..." replied the other.

They looked at each other, and a malicious smile appeared on both their faces as they nodded in agreement.

They approached Leonard, invading his personal space, but Leo evaded them. He didn't want trouble and just ignored them both: "Excuse me..." he said and walked away.

The two troublemakers insisted and stood in front of Leonard again.

"What are you going to do? Stop us?" The brute laughed.

Leonard's blood boiled. This was the worst day to provoke him.

"What's wrong, little fairy? Are you scared? Come on, let's play a little, 'Pixie.'" The skinny one urged with a laugh.

Leo could barely hear them anymore; he just drew his swords, Smiling and Absolution, and walked towards the arena. A clear message that he had accepted their invitation.

Leo had been testing his skills and honing his reflexes all day. With each sword movement, he sought to achieve that feeling from before, the ability that allowed him to anticipate his opponents' movements and react with superhuman speed.

The first of the Neumonds was a robust man at the peak of the Iron rank, specializing in brute force. The man charged like a raging bull, taking a long leap forward, holding the axe with both hands above his head. "This is the end for you, fairy!" he said with a malicious grin.

It was the last straw. Leonard exploded. His eyes sparked like mini lightning bolts.

The muscular Neumond practically stopped in mid-air before his eyes; he could perceive every millimeter of change within a 3-meter radius. Images of future actions forming in his mind, probabilities of movements, and calculations of intentions discarding all useless causality. All based on superhuman cognition. He wasn't predicting the future, just reading the movements of someone futile with a weak mind. "It's done," he thought.

"The gorilla will descend tearing through the air; I'll take two steps back, deflect at 35 degrees with crossed swords, and a slight counterweight push, and he'll lose his balance with the impact of the deflection. I'll take a step forward; he'll rotate on his axis to stabilize himself and attack horizontally from the left side, and I'll deflect diagonally with my right hand to the left side. He'll use the energy of my deflection and rotate the axe for an upward cut; I'll take a step back, opening a clear window in his right flank after my dodge. Checkmate." Leo calculated everything.

Time began to flow again; Leonard needed less time than the blink of an eye.

His opponent's blow whistled through the air and fell heavily on Leo, who deflected it in the shape of a cross. Leo, however, remained calm. His eyes followed every move of his opponent, every muscle contracting, every subtle change in posture; he was starting to believe.

Just as he had calculated, every blow, every nuance of the duel was under his control. After the last clang of weapons meeting, he saw the same opening from his calculations. Leo then struck a blunt in the opponent's ribs with the back of the blade of both swords. The man roared in pain, stumbling backward, but the cut was shallow; it wasn't with the blade edge.

Leo gave a sly smile, his face reveling in the feeling of what he had achieved. He finally understood his Neumond power.

"It's over; you can't fight anymore."

"Arrg... how did you...? Argh..."

"Breathe... you're not going to die from just that, are you?"

Leonard's blades gleamed in the hot sun, dazzling the eyes of some who stopped to watch the performance of both warriors. The buzz was loud; after defeating the first opponent and his cries echoing through the arena, it wasn't hard to get the attention of a small audience trying to understand how the "dummy fairy" had become so strong.

Not satisfied with the defeat, the brute stood up with difficulty, grabbed his axe, and recomposed himself, the pain in his ribs reminding him that this was not purely luck, but his pride was too high for him to just let it go.

"I'm coming!" he bellowed.

Leo just closed his eyes and nodded.

The man attempted one last desperate attack, raising the axe with both hands to throw it at Leonard. However, the attack was so poorly executed that Leo didn't even need to activate his ELEV. He just lunged forward with a cunning dash, and before the opponent could recover, he delivered a well-aimed blow with the pommel of his sword to the big guy's stomach.

The axe fell to the ground with a thud, and the Neumond knelt, defeated, totally nauseous. Leonard approached, pointing his swords at his opponent's neck.

"You fought well," he said, his voice calm and controlled. "But do you think you would survive with that out there?" Leo sheathed his swords: "Everything here is child's play until you know real despair."

The Neumond, breathless and humiliated, nodded silently.

Now it was his friend's turn; his physique was the opposite of the big guy's. Lean and agile, he appeared to be a person of such unpredictability. He maintained a relaxed posture as he twirled the daggers between his fingers. He was probably a rogue or assassin class.

"Ready, Fairy?" he taunted. "Let's see if fairies bleed."

"What's your name again?" Leo asked.

"It's Ethan, so you can remember your defeat," the man gave a smile.

Leonard just nodded, concentrating.

For a brief moment, they stared at each other, then Ethan launched the first attack, a blur of motion. His daggers flashed, ready to strike. But Leonard, with his attentive eyes and advanced cognition, anticipated the attack. He dodged the blade and countered with a precise thrust.

But Ethan was agile and dodged the sword, responding with a well-aimed kick to Leonard's chest. The young man staggered. "No, it wasn't like that; the concentration must be on my spirit. Be one with the blade," Leonard thought.

Ethan didn't give him time to breathe. He advanced furiously, his daggers slicing through the air. Leonard defended himself, but his movements were slow. Leo backed away from Ethan a little.

He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, seeking that unique feeling he had felt, and then activated his ELEV. His eyes opened, and again small electric flickers in his eyes showed the activation of his advanced cognition.

The world was transformed. Time slowed down; Ethan's movements became slow and predictable. Leonard could see every detail, every muscle contracting, every intention, like last time, and he thought, "That's it!"

With supernatural precision, Leonard dodged the next attack and countered. His sword struck Ethan's arm, causing him to drop his daggers. Leonard delivered a series of blows, forcing Ethan to retreat, all movements calculated with terrifying accuracy.

Leonard's blades passed within millimeters of Ethan's neck several times, demonstrating control over his movements. Some small scratches could be seen on his neck, with a little fresh blood trickling down.

Cornered, Ethan fell to his knees and surrendered. His eyes were wide as if he had seen a ghost, and unfortunately, his pants were wet.

Leonard took a deep breath. The fight was over.

"By the way, my name is Leonard; don't forget... oh, and... and don't provoke someone you don't know. Someone could kill you for much less."

The Neumonds, injured and ashamed, thanked him for the help and left the training ground.

Leonard's hands were shaking; he felt exhausted, his knees almost gave way, and he was putting on a tremendous act to maintain his victorious appearance.

"Apparently, using this power drains even my soul," he thought as he wiped the sweat from his face.

Despite the victory, the fight against the two Neumonds left a bitter taste in Leonard's mouth. He had felt pressured, cornered, and for a moment in the first fight, rage had taken over him. The memory of Liam's death and the frustration of not being able to save him still haunted him, and he feared these feelings would consume him.

That moment of lack of control, however, brought him a revelation. He had used his advanced cognition consciously, not instinctively, as he had in previous times. He had finally understood that this was his psychic Neumond ability, a power he could control and improve.

With this new awareness, Leonard felt a wave of confidence wash over him. He was no longer a helpless boy at the mercy of fate. He was a Neumond, with unique powers and a purpose to fulfill.

Leaving the training ground, he headed to the Guild House, determination shining in his eyes. Finding Silica, he requested a reservation on the next caravan to Besen.

"I need to go back there, face the past, and move on," he said, his voice firm and resolute.

Silica, with a look of understanding, nodded. "I'll do my best to secure your spot, Mr. Leonard," she replied with an encouraging smile. "I know you'll find what you're looking for."

Leaving the Guild House, Leonard looked up at the sky, now tinged with the colors of dusk. The promise of revenge still throbbed in his heart, but now it was accompanied by a new flame: the hope of a future where he could protect those he loved and honor the memory of those he had lost.

The journey would be long and arduous, but he was ready to face it and would not surrender until his wishes were fulfilled.

As he walked towards the exit, Silica called out to him, her soft voice breaking the silence of his thoughts.

"Leonard, wait a moment."

He turned, facing the young attendant with a questioning look.

"This arrived for you," Silica said, handing him a small scroll sealed with a wax seal. "It was delivered by a carrier pigeon from the capital, addressed to Leonard Winston."

Leo frowned, confused. Who would send him a letter from the capital? Looking at the tiny papyrus more closely, he recognized the royal family symbol engraved on the wax seal. His heart skipped a beat. Was it a message from the king? But why?

"Thank you, Silica," he thanked her, taking the letter hesitantly.

"It looks important," Silica commented with a curious smile. "Who knows, maybe it's an invitation to meet the king?"

Leonard shrugged, unsure what to think. Carefully tucking the letter into his pocket, he said goodbye to Silica and left the Guild House. He needed some time alone, in a quiet place, to read that mysterious message.

A shiver ran down Leonard's spine again. The feeling of being watched returned in full force, like a pair of invisible eyes fixed on his back. He tried to ignore the discomfort, attributing it to the natural nervousness of someone walking alone through the dark streets of Gothia, but the feeling persisted, intensifying with each step. He quickened his pace, seeking the safety of the crowd in the central square, but the feeling of being watched did not leave him.

Hidden in the shadows of the alleys, camouflaged among the passersby, he could glimpse some spies using his advanced cognition. They followed Leonard's every move.

"Who the hell are they?" Leo thought, furrowing his brows.

Trained eyes recorded every gesture, every glance, every stop. They noted details that would be delivered to someone. The surveillance became constant, an invisible web woven around Leonard, who, oblivious to the true situation, continued on his way through the city.

Upon reaching the Gothia slums, Leo managed to lose sight of them. He knew the alleys of that place like no one else, and after a few corners, he ran to his boarding house to rest.

"Could it be that by defeating those men, someone felt offended?" he wondered.

Leonard needed to be more careful from now on; he saw himself in a situation that could become very dangerous soon.