Light bled through the blinds of the window, into Yuta and Aisho’s rag-tag room. Aisho had awoken, but Yuta wasn’t in her bed.

  Aisho was about to get some more rest until she heard Daryl yell from somewhere inside the dojo. “AISHO!”

  She shot up, quickly got dressed and ready, then entered the main room where Yuta and Trace sat properly in front of Daryl.

  Aisho quickly sat down. “Sorry Daryl. I was catching a bit too much zzz.”

  He didn’t seem in the mood.

  Looking at the grim situation, Aisho chuckled softly.

  “Your performance in the Baratok raid…” Daryl started “was pitiful. But, I can’t say I’m surprised. You all are a bunch of inexperienced kids.”

  “Come on!” Yuta called out. “You can’t say I was pitiful, I was taking out pirates left and right!”

  “Ones without a Yogen? Ones without a Dragon Vein?”

  Yuta looked away.

  Daryl continued. “Aisho, you struggle with impatience, Yuta: hesitation, and Trace: control.”

  “Hesitation?” Yuta snarled. “I don’t hesitate, Daryl, alright?”

  Trace looked at his bandaged arm.

  “You do,” Daryl confirmed. “You may not believe so or you think you hide it well, but you do.

  “You don’t need new powers,” Daryl went on. “You need to understand your hands. Power is worthless if you can’t fight hand-to-hand in a fair fight. You’ll need to learn and understand how to channel your Dragon Vein energy to enhance your strikes, as well as your guard. A must-know skill, basic circulation—”

  The moment was interrupted when someone came banging on the dojo doors. The loud thudding echoed through the building, breaking the tension.

  Daryl’s gaze sharpened.

  He rose to his feet, crossing the dojo floor. The three students exchanged looks.

  Aisho leaned over and whispered, “Who do you guys think it is?”

  Yuta shook her head. “Gotta be important. No one knocks like they’re running from death.”

  Trace said nothing—his gaze was fixed on the doorway.

  Daryl slid open the doors, and a frantic man stumbled in, his face streaked with dirt and sweat.

  “Please!” the man gasped. “You—you’re the dojo master, right?! You’ve got to help!”

  Daryl steadied him by the shoulder. “Slow down. Speak.”

  The man gulped. “Our group of workers—escorted by two Silver-ranked Lancers—they’re under attack! We were ambushed on the marsh road near the ridge! Everyone else—they’re still out there!”

  Aisho jumped up immediately. “Silver-ranked? That’s serious, right?!”

  Trace frowned. “You said Lancers? Who are they?”

  “Names—Clyde and Lucien!” the man blurted.

  Yuta raised an eyebrow.

  He turned to the trio. “You three—this is your first mission without me.”

  Aisho’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what?!”

  “You want to become Lancers?” Daryl snapped. “Then act like it. This Lucien and Clyde are Silver-ranked for a reason.”

  Yuta stood, brushing the dust from her sleeves. “Finally. Something interesting.”

  Aisho grinned nervously. “Yea… Totally not nervous”

  Trace rose last, calm but tense. “Guess we don’t have a choice.”

  Daryl faced them all. “Remember what I said. Learn hand-to-hand while on your journey, You should also ask these Lancers how to control and manipulate your Dragon Vein energy, it’s crucial. Oh yea, and don’t rely on what you can’t control.”

  Yuta smirked. “Control’s overrated.”

  Daryl’s voice cracked like a whip. “Say that again when you’re lying face-first in the dirt.”

  “Relax old man. It was only a joke, don’t get your panties in a knot,” said Yuta and she strode forward.

  The man who’d brought the message looked between them all, trembling. “You— you’ll go, right?”

  Aisho punched her palm. “You bet! We’ve got this!”

  Yuta muttered under her breath, “Says the one who overslept…”

  Trace sighed. “Let’s move before someone gets hurt.”

  The man nodded rapidly and led the way outside.

  Daryl watched from the doorway as the three of them disappeared down the dirt road, sunlight spilling through the mist.

  He murmured to himself, “Let’s see what kind of Lancers you’ll become…”

  The man motioned for Trace, Yuta, and Aisho to follow him as he ran down the dirt road, going closer to the looming forest.

  ***

  Fog slowly crept in as they travelled deeper and deeper into the forest until they eventually encountered a marsh.

  Ghastly spectral warriors surrounded the workers along with Lucien and Clyde.

  The man, exhausted, yelled. “Guys! I got help!”

  Yuta wasted no time, quickly freezing a wave of ghastly warriors.

  Upon her attack the remainder of the ghastly warriors fled into the waters off the trail into the marsh.

  “Hey! Are you guys okay?” Aisho said.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  From the fog emerged two figures. One stood dark-skinned and loose-shouldered, wearing a turtleneck and shorts. He leaned lazily on a glowing, translucent baseball bat crackling with blue light. The other figure beside him was quieter, a tall slim man in a fitted green onesie-like outfit.

  The trio halted.

  Clyde, the one in the shorts, grinned, flashing a white-toothed smile. “Well, I’ll be damned. Backup’s arrived. And you sent three kids?”

  “Who are you calling kids?” Yuta shot back, fists balled.

  Lucien spoke. His voice was low and sharp. “I mean, they did scare away the ghast monsters or whatever.”

  Yuta took a step forward. “You’re welcome, by the way. Your army of glow sticks ran off as soon as I showed up.”

  Trace ignored their banter, kneeling beside a puddle. “Those spirits… they weren’t natural. Those had to be someone’s Yogen.”

  Lucien turned. “Correct. A Dragon Vein user. One with exceptional control—able to mask their pressure completely.”

  Clyde smacked his glowing bat against his palm.

  Aisho tilted her head. “What’s that thing? A weapon?”

  Clyde grinned, spinning the bat with a fluid motion that created a small gust of air. “My Yogen. Built outta pure Dragon Vein energy. She’s got two moods: Home Run—where I can smack anything halfway to the moon without breakin’ it. So technically I could smack an egg to the Stratosphere without breaking it—and Safe Zone, which allows me to create a barrier on my bat for defense.”

  He smirked. “Comes in handy when the world’s throwing curveballs.”

  Aisho’s eyes sparkled. “That’s so cool!”

  Lucien stepped forward. “And mine—” he said quietly, “is less theatrical. I can create extra arms attached to anywhere on my body. Each limb mirrors my Dragon Vein flow. I can multiply precision, redirect energy, or restrain targets mid-movement. But it comes with a price—each arm drains stamina and focus.”

  Yuta crossed her arms. “Creepy.”

  Clyde chuckled. “That’s Lucien for you.”

  “Focus,” Lucien muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

  Trace stood, wiping mud from his knee. “So what’s the plan?”

  “The plan is that we move these workers to Kabo town where they work on the bridge, we escort them back to Nisim, bam, job is finished,” Lucien said.

  Aisho interjected. “By the way, I don’t think we introduced ourselves, my name’s Aisho and these are my friends Yuta and Trace.”

  “Lucien.”

  “And my name is Clyde. Nice to meet you three.”

  Clyde’s gaze swept across the mist. “Stay sharp. Whoever’s behind those spirits isn’t finished yet. And we’ve still got a long road to Kabo.”

  They started down the path.

  ***

  The group trekked through the thick fog until the trees finally began to thin.

  Lucien raised a hand, halting the group. “We’re close. The bridge is just ahead.”

  Through the clearing, a massive wooden bridge stretched across a broad river. Half the structure sagged, planks missing and ropes frayed. Lanterns lined the posts, their light dim and wavering in the night wind. The workers, weary and mud-caked, stared at it in silence.

  Clyde sighed, resting his bat on his shoulder. “That’s what we nearly died to get to? Looks like it’s got one more good sneeze before collapsing.”

  Aisho leaned over the railing. The water below was dark and endless, moving slowly like a sleeping beast. “That’s… a long drop.”

  “Don’t look down then,” Yuta said, already stepping onto the bridge. The structure groaned. “If it breaks, I’ll just make an ice raft or something.”

  “Stable enough for now,” Lucien said. “Let’s move before dawn.”

  They crossed carefully, the workers whispering nervously behind them. When they finally reached the other side, the mist dispersed to reveal a quaint town—Kabo Town.

  Houses of dark timber and clay tile roofs clustered together along streets, lit by warm lamps. A small crowd of townsfolk had gathered at the gate, led by a stout man in a red overcoat and a wide-brimmed hat.

  As the group approached, the man spread his arms. “Well, bless my soul! You must be the Silver Lancers they told me about!”

  Lucien and Clyde exchanged a glance.

  “Yeah,” Clyde said. “Silver, but a little tarnished after today.”

  The man laughed heartily, his belly shaking. “Name’s Mayor Tobin, folks call me ‘Toby.’ You have no idea how grateful we are. That bridge’s been cursed work for weeks now. My people can’t cross the river without fearing ghosts or worse.”

  “Not cursed,” Lucien corrected softly. “Manipulated.”

  Tobin blinked. “Manipulated?”

  Clyde waved it off. “Long story, short walk. Point is, we’ll get your workers going tomorrow. For now, they need rest.”

  “Of course! Of course!” The mayor turned to a few aides. “See that these fine people get rooms at the inn. Meals too—on the house!”

  ***

  The group followed the mayor through the winding cobblestone streets to a three-story inn.

  Each of the workers was given a room, and soon the inn settled into quiet chatter and creaking floors. The rain began to fall lightly outside, pattering against the shutters.

  Aisho sat on her bed, tossing an apple from the dinner tray up and down. “Man, it feels weird to sleep in a bed after fighting ghosts.”

  Trace sat cross-legged on the floor, quietly observing his bandaged arm.

  Yuta was near the window. “Tomorrow’s gonna be worse, isn’t it?”

  Lucien, seated against the wall, opened one eye. “Depends how you define worse.”

  Clyde yawned and leaned back in his chair. “If we wake up breathing, it’s a good start.”

  “I don’t like waking up feeling grateful that my throat wasn’t slit open in my rest,” Yuta snarled.

  Aisho suddenly remembered something—Daryl’s words echoing in her head.

  “Learn hand-to-hand while on your journey. Ask these Lancers how to control and manipulate your Dragon Vein energy. It’s crucial.”

  She sat up straight. “Oh! Lucien, Clyde—our mentor told us to ask about controlling Dragon Vein energy. Like… circulation or something?”

  Lucien tilted his head. “Basic Circulation?”

  Aisho nodded eagerly. “Yeah! That!”

  Clyde smirked. “Guess it’s lesson time then. On the house.”

  He stood and cracked his neck. “Alright, kiddos. Dragon Vein 101. You all got rivers of energy running through you—same stuff that powers your Yogen. But if you don’t know how to circulate it properly, it’s like letting your blood boil with no direction.”

  Lucien stood as well. “Basic Circulation is the foundation. You take control of the flow—breathe, focus, and let it move through your limbs evenly. Not too fast, not too weak. Once you master that, your body strengthens—speed, reflexes, even pain tolerance. Think of it like tensing your muscles. Your veins will glow your Dragon Vein’s color when you get it right, just like when you use your Yogen.”

  Lucien channeled his energy, green glowing veins spread through his arm.

  Clyde followed, blue energy pulsing along his neck and arms. “Once you can keep that glow steady, you’re officially walking with your Dragon Vein, not against it.”

  Aisho tried to imitate them, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Her veins flickered faintly gold—then sparked and vanished.

  Yuta frowned and tried as well, light blue illuminating her arm, but vanishing.

  Trace sat quietly, his eyes half-lidded. The air around him began to warp faintly. Violet light pulsed from under his skin, slow and rhythmic. The atmosphere in the room slowly deepened.

  Lucien’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s… impressive control for a beginner.”

  Trace opened his eyes. “Feels natural. Like it’s always been there.”

  Clyde let out a low whistle. “Show-off.”

  “You guys feel that?” Lucien smiled faintly. “You’re using Dragon Vein Pressure, aren’t you? Trace.”

  Aisho blinked. “Wait, there’s another one?”

  Lucien nodded. “It’s an advanced form. Instead of channeling the energy through your body, you project it outward. It distorts the air—oppresses those weaker than you. It’s difficult to control, and dangerous if overdone. Some naturally exert Dragon Vein pressure while some are able to exert Dragon Vein pressure while simultaneously using basic circulation.”

  Trace released the energy, and the air relaxed. Aisho exhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath.

  “Guess you’re ahead of the curve,” Yuta said, folding her arms.

  Trace shook his head. “It-it doesn’t feel like a blessing.”

  “Having control like that is a blessing,” Clyde tapped his bat against his shoulder. “Hey, I never asked but what’s up with the bandages?”

  Yuta rolled her eyes.

  Trace didn’t respond for a moment. “It’s nothing alright.”

  The rain outside thickened into a downpour. The five of them sat quietly for a moment.

  Lucien finally spoke. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, the real work begins.”

  Clyde leaned back again. “Yeah. I got a feeling this bridge job’s gonna be more than just splinters and nails.”

  Outside, thunder rolled across the valley—and far below the bridge, the water stirred.

  “Woe to those who plan iniquity, to those who plot evil on their beds! At morning’s light they carry it out because it is in their power to do it.”

  — Micah 2:1 (NIV)