The Bookkeeper

"I can't say how many were in your kingdom, but Persia has five Stars total. We just faced one, which means four are still out there." Leo said, dropping to the floor as sweat dripped from his frame.

"Noor has just two, since few have the strength required to seek that kind of power." Levi said, coming to rest next to him as he pressed his hand against the bandages around his torso.

"The Makers serve as enforcers in my kingdom—only two exist… they're essentially gods, not merely through strength but through their possessions." Levi added.

"Makers are enforcers in Persia as well—four of them. They're numbered 6 and 5, with the judges ranking above them." Leo turned to Levi.

"Three judges exist, each numbered 4… by title alone, they stand as the strongest in the entirety of Persia."

His voice fell to a whisper. "They judge to condemn… if we ever come under their scrutiny, we're finished."

"Finished, huh?" Levi smirked, letting his head fall back toward the ceiling.

"I had no idea our kingdoms shared such similar hierarchies, given that the other two have entirely different structures." Leo said as he stood up.

"Me neither." Levi said, following suit.

Raiden entered with a vacant expression, mechanically shoving cake into his mouth. The second the others caught sight of him, they snapped into action, throwing precise punches into the air.

Raiden walked to the far right corner and sank to the floor, observing their training session while absently consuming his cake. Ash's condition weighed heavily on his thoughts. She'd appeared stable when he woke the day before, but her fever was climbing rapidly and her wound had worsened through the night.

The situation ate at him, though he felt powerless to change it. He'd attempted to pour his mana into her once more, ignoring Ash's earlier warning that the timing wasn't right—but he needed to try. For the slim chance it might help. It didn't.

And here he sat, torn between continuing to worry about her or dedicating himself solely to getting stronger.

A few minutes later, he refilled his plate and settled back into position, observing as they copied his exact shadowboxing form. But when his eyes dropped to the plate, his expression changed. 

He had his own training to focus on, and more importantly, they needed to forge their own fighting styles—something distinctive that would keep the trio unpredictable.

He lowered the plate to the floor with care, yet the contact rang out sharply across the room. Then he stood and cracked his knuckles.

"Stop!" he ordered, moving closer. They froze and pivoted toward him.

Clearing his throat, he took his place in front of them as they stared back at him, sweat-soaked and breathing hard from their training.

"Training isn't supposed to be a perfect imitation of what you're shown." His gaze shifted to Levi. "Did you bother training him?"

He smacked his palm against his forehead. "What am I saying… you're making the same mistakes."

Levi shrugged, but wore an abrupt dark expression. "So you're calling me pathetic?" He sneered. "Don't let this get to your head."

Raiden exhaled deeply. "We're starting fresh."

"What I've shown you is all me—my approach to training and the foundation of how I fight."

He started a slow pace back and forth, his hands folded behind him.

"What I'm teaching you is valuable, but you have to take it… and blend it with yourself." He stopped mid-step, gathering his thoughts. "Shape it into something that fits you better."

"Make sense?"

They nodded in sync.

"Right. Now that that's settled, I'll leave you with one last bit of information."

He sat cross-legged on the floor and waved them down beside him. After teaching them how to meditate properly, he'd finally be free to go train by himself.

They sat with eyes closed, trying to mirror Raiden's movements and posture.

"To me, meditation means uniting with my body, finding harmony within myself, and building strength from within," he explained while sinking into his meditative state.

"You have to create your own definition of meditation, naturally, but that will develop from the sensations you find within."

Opening his eyes at last, he watched as they both worked to find their meditative rhythm. He couldn't help but smirk, never having pictured himself teaching others how to meditate.

"To meditate effectively, you have to locate peace inside yourself. How you access it depends on the type of peace you need—through your heartbeat, internal silence, or perhaps by focusing on your pulse."

He remained seated, watching them disappear into their inner worlds. The silence stretched on—no words, no movement, just pure obedience to his teaching. Then Leo's eyes opened, cutting through the meditation.

"And our mana core? I glimpsed it when I awakened, but how do I connect with it properly?"

A look of surprise crossed Raiden's face as his eyebrow arched upward. He hadn't anticipated Leo being able to perceive his mana core, not when he could barely focus during meditation.

"Master meditation first… we'll make it a gradual process."

Leo gave him a nod and shut his eyes once more. Raiden, however, stood up. He had to find something worthwhile to work on, something that would sharpen his abilities.

"I'll be back…" he announced, walking toward the training room exit. "Keep your concentration—no distractions."

He snatched his sword from its place by the entrance and headed out. He had to hone his reflexes and instincts; maybe improving those would strengthen his bond with Ash's soul, given that the dragon soul fusion was still under 10%.

Thinking of Ash, he made his way through the living room and up the stairs to her side. She remained still, her breathing shallow but steady, while her temperature rose dangerously and her wounds expanded beneath blood-soaked bandages.

Raiden sank onto the bed, his hand moving absently through his hair. There was only one other person who had saved him as Ash had, and it was the same person she reminded him of: Jobe, his twin brother.

After sitting there for several minutes, Raiden became overwhelmed—nostalgia mixing with deeper emotions. He got up and exited the room.

Seeing Ash's worsening state fueled his bloodlust. He stepped outside and positioned himself at the entrance, his gaze fixed on the endless forest beyond.

Without a moment's hesitation, he headed toward the treeline, his fingers wrapped tightly around his sword's hilt—he needed monsters to kill.

The instant he crossed into the forest, his expression altered at the sight of white slimes—squishy creatures that bounced along the ground. It was his first time witnessing monsters firsthand, as Raiden's memories were void of such encounters.

Despite their harmless appearance, he drew his sword and began cleaving them in two. Most bounced away from his initial strikes, but he gave chase, slashing at them repeatedly—his need for violence wouldn't let any survive.

After pushing further into the forest while chasing down every slime, his anger detection ability sparked to life. The reading was incredibly light, practically undetectable to anyone without his heightened senses, but he felt it nonetheless. It couldn't be an assassin with such weak anger—but what else could it be?

His head whipped around as he searched for danger. Within seconds, he spotted them—dozens of green-skinned beings with sharp fangs, pointed ears, and sinister grins. Goblins. They lounged in a distant clearing, a few clutching wooden sticks as crude weapons.

Raiden remained frozen, debating if these monsters would serve as superior training opponents for Levi and Leo. Either way, he planned to kill several first to quench his need for violence before taking any back alive. A cruel grin spread across his lips as he activated his invisibility and gripped his blade firmly.