An Old Rival. Nyxath!

Yusuf stood up and ran toward Saliz.

"Uncle, why haven't you thrown this child away yet?" he asked, pointing at the boy who had just arrived. His tone was sharp, annoyed.

"Teacher, your relative here—this child—looks scared of me," the boy said, his voice calm but filled with arrogance. "Please keep him somewhere far from my sight. He might feel safer then."

"Oh, hello! I'm not scared of a child like you," Yusuf shot back immediately.

Saliz didn't get a chance to speak. The argument escalated too quickly.

"Get out. I'll be staying here from now on," Yusuf declared.

"You get out. I'm not going anywhere else," the boy replied without hesitation.

Yusuf's patience was running thin. "Then I'll kick you out."

"Do it if you can!" The boy folded his arms and stood there, not backing down.

Yusuf's anger flared up. He moved toward the boy and tried to push him, but it was like pushing a wall. The boy didn't budge. Yusuf was stunned. His expression changed, but he quickly masked it with frustration. Unable to overpower him physically, he resorted to something childish—he pinched the boy, hard.

The boy yelled in pain.

The commotion woke Bastin. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the new boy standing there, unfamiliar yet oddly confident. His green hair, medieval clothing in purple and black, the way he carried himself—it all stood out.

Before Bastin could make sense of what was happening, the boy took a step forward, picked Yusuf up, and slammed him to the ground in the blink of an eye.

Yusuf groaned, unable to move for a moment.

That was when Saliz finally had enough. "Enough, you two! You both will be punished!"

The boy's face shifted. "Sorry, teacher!" he said quickly, but there was no forgiveness in Saliz's eyes.

Without another word, Saliz grabbed both of them by their legs, ignoring their protests, and dragged them outside. He hung them upside down from the Piezto tree in the garden.

"Stay here. If I find you anywhere else, I'll punish you even harder," Saliz warned and walked back to his study.

Bastin was awake by now, still holding the brooch. Saliz noticed it immediately. That wasn't with him last night when I checked… Where does he even keep it? Inside his clothes?

To keep things normal, Saliz replied to Bastin's greeting but quickly changed the topic. "Go check on your brother and that boy. See if they've learned their lesson."

Bastin ran outside excitedly.

But before he left, Saliz added, "Keep your brooch inside the house, or you'll lose it."

Bastin paused for a second. It felt off. Why would Saliz even mention that? His suspicion grew, but he kept his expression neutral. "I won't. I'll be careful," he said casually and ran off.

As soon as he was out of sight, Saliz clenched his jaw. "Damn. I shouldn't have said that. Now he knows I noticed the brooch."

Outside, Bastin reached the tree where Yusuf and the boy were still hanging—arguing.

"Shut up," the boy snapped.

"I shut up? You shut up! We're hanging here hooooo! all because of you!" Yusuf shot back.

Bastin wiped his forehead, let out a laugh, and turned to Yusuf. "Good morning, Ani."

Silence.

Yusuf and the boy both stared at Boston.

"Who's this kid now?" the boy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He's my sibling," Yusuf replied, his voice steady. "I met him yesterday when I found him in the rubble after the flood."

The boy burst into laughter. "Met him yesterday? Ha ha ha! Picked him from rubble? More like picked up trouble!"

Yusuf's face twisted with anger. Before the boy could react, Yusuf swung himself forward and delivered a sharp headbutt. A dull thud echoed as their heads collided. The boy yelped in pain, clutching his forehead, his face turning red.

"Stop! That's enough!" Bastin shouted. "Don't you two think it's better to just stay quiet? If you want to get down, you'll have to do that. Otherwise, if you like hanging up there like fools, be my guest and ignore me."

Yusuf and the boy both turned their heads in opposite directions, crossing their arms. The air was tense, but they stayed silent, hanging upside down from the tree like scolded children.

Bastin sighed and sat below, leaning against the tree. He glanced up at the house. Through the window, Saliz was watching.

The day had reached its ninth unit, the passing time marked by the shadow of a wooden piece placed under the sun. Finally, Saliz stepped outside and approached the punished boys.

"Don't repeat the mistake again," he said firmly, untying them and letting them drop to the ground. He grabbed the boy's arm and led him inside the study room.

Yusuf, standing on the veranda, muttered something under his breath about the boy.

"You shouldn't use the F-word," Bastin said, stepping up beside him.

Yusuf snapped. "You shut up! Stay out of our business!"

Bastin scrunched up his face and let out an exaggerated sob. Tears pooled in his eyes—fake, but convincing.

"I… I didn't mean it," Yusuf mumbled, quickly trying to pacify him. "I'm just… tired of that dead boy."

"Who is he?" Bastin asked, wiping his 'tears' dramatically.

"His name's Baran Efezade. He's one of Uncle's students," Yusuf replied, shaking his head.

"What does Uncle teach him?" Bastin asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Nature, treatment, magic, charms… a bunch of Indo-Vedic practices."

"Oh? Interesting." Bastin's gaze flickered toward the study room. "Let's see."

He tiptoed closer, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening inside. Baran held an inscription in his hands, his expression focused. Saliz was demonstrating something with a brooch.

"It functions like this. Wait, let me show you," Saliz was saying. "Bring me that Stunella seed."

Baran quickly passed him a small seed. Saliz dug a hole in a pot of soil, placed the seed inside, and then whispered, "Phytus Synthesis."

Nothing happened.

Saliz blinked, then let out a small chuckle. "Ah! I forgot to charge the brooch." He snapped his fingers. "Come to the yard with me, Baran."

Bastin stiffened. He quickly backed away, pretending to be occupied with something else just as Saliz and Baran stepped outside.

The moment they left, Yusuf walked past. "I'm going to take a bath. You coming?"

Bastin hesitated, his mind still buzzing with what he had just seen. "Wait for me. I'll come soon."

"Alright," Yusuf said, though he sounded unconvinced. He turned and walked toward the bath area.

But as soon as Yusuf left, Bastin peeked through the window, his breath hitching as he watched the scene unfold outside. Saliz stood tall, his brooch raised high in his right hand. Baran followed his instructions, carefully arranging the pot and seeds in front of him.

Then, Saliz's voice rang out. "Nyxath, grant me powers."

Bastin frowned. What was that?

For a moment, everything fell into an eerie silence. The air stood still. Then—without warning—the sky darkened. Thick, stormy clouds swirled together like ink bleeding through paper. The winds howled, thrashing through the trees with violent force. It was as if a cyclone was about to descend.

Bastin's stomach twisted in fear. What in the world…?

Suddenly, from the heart of the storm, a deep crimson light sliced through the sky. It cut through the clouds like a blade, heading straight for the brooch in Saliz's hand. The moment it touched the metal, a voice—dark, resonant, almost otherworldly—echoed through the air.

"Granted."

And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the light vanished. The storm settled. The sky cleared. The wind stilled.

Baran took a shaky breath. "What was that, teacher?"

Saliz lowered his brooch and smiled faintly. "I'll teach you about that some other day."

Without another word, he returned to the lesson, as if nothing had happened.

But Bastin? He stood frozen in place, his heart pounding. His mind screamed at him to step away from the window, to pretend he had never seen any of it.

Because what he had just witnessed—whatever that was—was not something he could easily forget.