The world outside faded.
Nothing existed beyond the cycle of motion, focus, and refinement.
Alistair stood alone in the academy's training hall, his breath controlled, his movements precise.
For hours—no, an entire day—he had been lost in his training.
His mastery over Blood Magic was still rough, but the progress was undeniable. The techniques he struggled with yesterday now felt more natural.
The delicate balance of Abyssal, Shadow, and Blood Magic was no longer an abstract theory—it was slowly becoming instinct.
He raised his hand.
A tendril of darkened blood coiled in the air, responding to his will. Unlike before, it no longer collapsed instantly. It stayed, pulsating with mana.
Progress.
Just as he prepared for another attempt—
A small voice broke through his trance.
"Food."
Alistair froze.
For a moment, he wasn't sure if he imagined it.
Then—
A glow flickered on his collarbone, and from his Spirit Mark, a small figure materialized before him.
Sera.
The silver-haired, golden-eyed child floated briefly before plopping down onto the stone floor with an unsteady wobble.
She rubbed her eyes blearily, blinking up at him.
Then, as if remembering her true purpose, she tugged at his sleeve.
"Food," she repeated, more insistent this time.
Alistair's eyes flickered toward the windows of the training hall.
Outside, the sky was deep orange, the sun already beginning its descent.
…It was evening.
He had been training since morning, completely oblivious to time.
A deep sigh escaped him.
This wasn't the first time he had lost track of everything in pursuit of mastery.
But now, unlike before—he wasn't alone.
A small hand tugged at his sleeve again.
He glanced down.
Sera stared at him, her golden eyes filled with absolute expectation.
Alistair rubbed his temple. "Alright. Let's go home."
The little spirit nodded as if he had no say in the matter to begin with.
*****
Alistair exited the training hall, stepping into the cool evening air.
Sera followed beside him, her tiny legs struggling to keep up with his pace.
A few steps later, she stopped walking entirely.
Then—she lifted her arms toward him.
Alistair narrowed his eyes. "...What?"
She stared.
Arms raised.
Waiting.
"Pick up," she demanded.
Alistair exhaled sharply. "...You can walk."
Sera pouted.
She didn't say anything—just kept staring.
Her golden eyes, wide and expectant, held more weight than any battlefield commander's gaze ever could.
Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose. "...Fine."
With a resigned sigh, he lifted her onto his back.
The moment he did, she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, nestling her face into his shoulder.
"...Warm," she murmured contentedly.
Alistair shook his head, adjusting his grip before continuing toward the dormitories.
As they moved through the academy grounds, they passed through the Shopping District—an area filled with various stalls, cafes, and specialty shops designed to cater to students.
The air was thick with the scent of grilled meats, fresh pastries, and spiced drinks.
It was then that Sera lifted her head from his shoulder.
Her nose twitched.
Her golden eyes locked onto a food stall up ahead.
She pointed.
"Want."
Alistair followed her gaze.
The stall was selling freshly grilled skewers, the scent of seasoned meat filling the air.
Sera gently tugged his hair.
"Want," she repeated.
Alistair sighed. "You just ate earlier."
Sera pouted again.
"...Hungry."
Alistair knew better than to argue.
He changed direction, stopping by the stall and ordering a few skewers.
The moment he handed one to her, Sera gripped it with both hands and immediately started eating.
Her small bites were slow and deliberate, as if savoring every bit of flavor.
"...Good?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sera nodded vigorously, her silver hair bouncing.
Alistair sighed again.
She was too easy to please.
Still, as they ate, he took a moment to observe the marketplace around him.
Despite the academy's cutthroat nature, this place felt… alive.
Normal.
Students laughed and chatted, vendors called out their latest deals, and groups of friends shared meals together.
It was a stark contrast to the battlefield-like training halls and high-stakes political games of noble society.
Alistair finished his skewer, glancing at Sera—
Only to find that she had already finished hers and was now eyeing another stall.
This time, her target was a dessert stand selling fruit-filled pastries.
Alistair groaned inwardly.
This was going to be a long night.
*****
After indulging Sera's many food-related whims, Alistair noticed something while walking through the district.
A large mall-like building stood near the end of the marketplace.
Its windows displayed various clothing stores, enchantment shops, and specialty boutiques.
Alistair glanced at Sera.
She was still clutching onto his back, but now her clothes had a few crumbs and some sauce stains from earlier.
Right…
She had been wearing the same white spirit robes since she manifested.
"...We need to buy you clothes."
Sera blinked at him.
Then—she tilted her head.
"Clothes?"
Alistair nodded, stepping into the mall.
******
Alistair rarely went shopping for himself.
His academy uniform and simple training outfits were enough.
But as he entered the children's clothing section, he was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer variety of choices.
Dresses.
Tunics.
Pajamas.
Hooded cloaks.
...Why were there so many options?
Sera, however, was already exploring.
She poked at fabrics, stared at mannequins, and occasionally pointed at things with curiosity.
Then—she found something.
She grabbed a small black cloak with silver embroidery along the edges.
She turned to him.
"Want."
Alistair studied the cloak.
It was practical, with a soft yet durable fabric—something easy to move in.
"...Alright."
After that, she picked out a few more pieces—simple dresses, tunics, and one oversized sweater that she refused to put down.
Once the shopping was done, they left the mall and began their walk back home.
****
By the time they reached the dormitories, the sky was deep blue, the first stars appearing in the night.
Sera, still on his back, let out a soft yawn.
Alistair could feel her tiny form relax against him.
When they entered his dorm room, she barely lasted a few minutes before her golden eyes drooped.
With minimal effort, she curled up on the bed, clutching the oversized sweater she had picked out.
A moment later—
She flickered.
And returned to his Spirit Mark.
Alistair sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Today had been… unexpected.
He had planned to train endlessly, to push himself beyond limits—
And yet, somehow, he had ended up carrying a child through a shopping district and buying her clothes.
Despite himself, he let out a small, quiet chuckle.
Then, shaking his head, he sat at his desk.
Tomorrow, training would resume.
But for now—
He would let himself breathe.
(To Be Continued...)