Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months.

  At first, the monsters seemed similar—they had the same patterns, the same attacks, the same weaknesses. But slowly, Mirai began noticing the change. More cunning movements, better coordination, growing intelligence. As if the forest itself was learning from its defeats.

  But Mirai learned too. Each battle was a lesson, each victory a step toward combat perfection.

  Summer came with its suffocating heat.

  The air became heavy as honey, clinging to the lungs. Green leaves wilted, turned burnt brown. The ground cracked, each step raising clouds of hot dust. The monsters adapted—they became faster, lighter, using heat as an additional weapon.

  Mirai adapted in turn. She learned to conserve energy, fight in shadows, use the water element creatively for both cooling and attack.

  Autumn brought new challenges.

  Golden and crimson leaves fell like rain, hiding traps and ambushes. The ground became slippery, treacherous. Monsters used camouflage, hiding among leaves and pouncing from unseen places.

  But Mirai developed new senses. She learned to read air movement, hear the whisper of leaves, feel the hidden energy of concealed creatures.

  Then came winter.

  The cold wasn't just weather—it was a living enemy. Frost bit like a thousand needles, snow reached the knees, every breath burned the chest. Movement became torture, fighting a doubled challenge.

  The new monsters were white nightmares—semi-transparent, blending with snow, shooting deadly ice pillars. Fast despite the cold, killing with the silence of white death.

  But worst of all... the food.

  Same tough meat, same miserable taste, day after day. In the bitter cold, food froze before cooking completely, becoming harder, more bitter. Each meal a battle of will, each bite a reminder that survival has a price.

  Six months... nine... eleven...

  Mirai changed. No longer the lazy girl who slept in class. Her muscles hardened, her senses sharpened, her mind became a pure war machine. Her movements lost any excess, became embodied killing efficiency.

  Monsters that required effort at first now fell with a single strike. Those that once surprised her became as easy to read as an open book.

  Spring returned, and with it, the journey's end approached.

  **Day 364**

  Mirai sat under a huge tree, her back against the rough trunk. No fatigue this time, just... emptiness.

  "Only five hours today," Aizen said standing before her. "You completed the task in five hours. Truly amazing."

  "I've lost the passion," she admitted in an emotionless voice. "I didn't expect continuous killing to become... boring to this degree."

  He sat beside her, studying her changed features—harder, more mature, more dangerous. "I have a surprise. Tomorrow is different. Only one monster."

  She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "One? After a thousand daily? It'll be a picnic."

  "Trust me," he said with unusual seriousness. "This monster... is different. Its power defies description."

  He removed the legendary Crystalline robe—that fabric that glowed with inner light, restoring magical energy at supernatural speed. He extended it to her. "Take it. You'll need it."

  She held it, and for the first time in months, felt a spark of real enthusiasm.

  "See you tomorrow," he said as he walked away, melting into the forest shadows.

  That night, Mirai didn't sleep.

  Not from fatigue or worry, but from burning curiosity. What kind of monster required the Crystalline robe? What power deserved her father's warning?

  She lay under the faint stars, the legendary robe in her hands, wondering...

  **Day 365 - Dawn**

  She donned the robe in one smooth motion. The moment it touched her body, she felt the difference. Energy flowed through her like an inexhaustible river, every cell singing with power.

  "Today," she said to herself with a savage smile, "I unleash everything."

  She headed toward the forest's heart, where trees were oldest and shadows deepest. She reached an open clearing, a perfect circle amid giant trees. Early morning cast faint golden light, and fog danced between roots.

  In the center, someone waited.

  She approached, and when she saw his face, stopped in shock.

  "Father?" Her voice mixed surprise and frustration. "You're the surprise?"

  Aizen smiled, and his aura began rising. Not the usual aura—something deeper, older, more dangerous. The air around him began rippling, the ground beneath his feet cracking from pressure.

  "The final condition I didn't mention," he said with frightening calm. "On the last day, you must defeat me."

  Mirai sighed deeply, frustration evident. "Seriously? After all this, you want me to fight someone at half power?" She shook her head. "Even you and mother at full power together couldn't touch me. This isn't a challenge, it's an insult."

  "True, I'm at half power," Aizen admitted. "Don't hesitate to use everything you have. Even if you kill me, I'll return to the original body."

  He paused, his eyes gleaming with something mysterious. "You're stronger than me, that's clear. And the robe gives you an additional crushing advantage. Logically, I have no chance..."

  A strange smile crossed his face. "But when has logic been everything? Come, begin. Time passes. And remember—if you don't defeat me today, the forest will be your eternal grave."

  Mirai raised her hand in a lazy motion, as if swatting an annoying fly. From her palm shot a pillar of crimson flame, thick as an ancient tree trunk, that tore through the air with a deafening sound.

  Aizen didn't move. Didn't even blink.

  At the last moment, the ground before him exploded. A huge stone wall rose from nothing, thick and solid. The crimson flame struck it with tremendous force... and dissipated like smoke.

  "Earth barrier, level three," Aizen commented in his usual teacher's tone. "A spell children learn in their first year. Sufficient to stop your destructive attack."

  Mirai's eyes narrowed slightly. "Just a warm-up. We have all day."

  She raised her hand toward the sky. Clouds, as if responding to her silent call, gathered with impossible speed. Black, heavy, pregnant with electric death. Lightning danced between their folds like hungry blue serpents.

  "Lightning Rain," Aizen recognized immediately. "Your personal invention. Truly creative."

  "Your immunity is only level seven now," Mirai said with absolute confidence. "Every drop will electrocute you. No escape."

  "Let's see."

  She dropped her hand like a judge's hammer. The sky opened. Not ordinary rain—each drop a living spark, each water point a miniature lightning bolt. The air itself buzzed with electricity.

  Aizen began walking. Toward her. Slowly. As if on a morning stroll.

  Before the first drop reached him by centimeters, the air around him rippled. A transparent barrier, like a giant soap bubble, formed around him. The electrified drops hit the barrier... and slid aside, helplessly.

  "Air shield, level five," he said while approaching. "Another spell from the basic curriculum. Sufficient to nullify your genius invention."

  Frustration began showing on Mirai's face. In a fluid motion, she drew her sword. "Enough games!"

  She launched like lightning, faster than thought. Her sword cut through air, leaving a trail of silver light. The distance between them vanished in a fraction of a second.

  Aizen's sword, which hadn't been in his hand a moment before, met hers in a collision that sent shockwaves across the grounds.

  "Fast," he commented while parrying her next strike. "But predictable."

  A deadly dance began. Mirai attacked from every angle, her sword moving so fast it seemed like ten swords. Aizen retreated, leaned, bent, parried. Always with minimum movement, always at the perfect moment.

  Between strikes, she released wind blades. Aizen summoned another stone wall. She shattered it with lightning. He created a shield of frozen water. She melted it with fire. He raised a lightning barrier. She passed through it with her own earth shield.

  One hour. Two. Three.

  The sun crossed the sky, and the battle didn't stop. Mirai, thanks to the Crystalline robe, showed no signs of fatigue. Her energy renewed faster than she consumed it. Every attack at full power, every spell at maximum intensity.

  Aizen, for his part, barely broke a sweat. His simple spells consumed a tiny fraction of his energy. His tight defenses frustrated every attempt.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  As the sun set, worry began creeping into Mirai's heart.

  This... impossible. How does he endure at half power? With basic spells?

  No, not now. I still have time. I still have...

  "Enough!"

  The word came out as a roar. Mirai raised her hands, her eyes blazing with crimson light. The air around her began rippling from heat. The ground beneath her feet cracked, melting.

  Crimson flame—not mere fire, but absolute destruction incarnate—exploded from her like a tsunami of living fire. It wasn't a directed attack, but total devastation. Trees didn't burn—they vaporized. The ground didn't melt—it turned to glass. Even the air itself ignited.

  Aizen, for the first time, moved with real speed. His wings unfurled, lifting him high above the sea of fire.

  But Mirai had anticipated that.

  The flame wasn't just a sea—it was a sphere. A dome of crimson fire rose from every direction, closing the sky, trapping Aizen at its center. No ground to land on, no sky to escape to. Just fire from every side, approaching, tightening the noose.

  Aizen hovered in the center, watching the fire walls approach. No panic on his face, just... interest.

  "Impressive, Mirai," his voice reached her despite the roaring flames. "An almost perfect trap."

  Almost?

  He began spinning around himself, faster and faster. The ground—or what remained of it—responded. Rocks rose from everywhere, wrapped around him like a living shield. Layer upon layer, forming around his body.

  Then he launched.

  Like a cannonball, he pierced the fire wall. The outer rock layers turned to ash instantly, but there were more. Always more. Each burning layer revealed another beneath.

  He emerged from the other side, the last rock layer falling from him like a burned eggshell. He landed gracefully, brushing dust from his shoulder.

  "Good attempt. Almost succeeded."

  Mirai breathed with difficulty. Not from physical fatigue—the robe took care of that—but from pure frustration. She had consumed half her remaining energy in that single attack. And the result? Nothing.

  "Mirai," Aizen's voice cut through her troubled thoughts. "A simple question. During the past hours we've been fighting, haven't you noticed something... strange?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Think. Observe. What has changed?"

  Before she could answer, she felt it.

  Metallic coldness on her neck. The edge of a sword.

  She turned slowly. Another Aizen stood behind her, his sword at her throat, a calm smile on his face.

  Impossible. When...?

  "Do you understand now?" The original Aizen spoke. "My energy dropped to a quarter during the fight. You didn't notice because I only used simple spells, making you think I was conserving my energy."

  "The duplication spell... again," Mirai whispered, realization striking her like lightning.

  "And the best part? He was hiding in your shadow the entire time. Shadow Stalker spell, level seven. I could have ended this at any moment."

  Mirai stood frozen, her mind recalculating. All that confidence, all that arrogance—gone.

  "Why didn't you?" she asked in a soft voice.

  "To prove a point. The spells you despise as 'weak' defeated you. The raw power you rely on failed. Intelligence, tactics, patience—these are the real weapons."

  Heavy silence. Then:

  "What now?" Mirai's voice was devoid of any emotion. "Kill me? Leave me here?"

  The copy removed the sword. "Your decision. Continue?"

  Mirai looked around. The destruction she'd caused. The mental more than physical exhaustion. The bitter realization that, despite all her power, she was still a child in the world of strategy.

  She returned her sword to its sheath. She fell to her knees, then lay on her back.

  "No. Kill me. Death is more merciful than living here forever."

  A moment of silence. Then a soft laugh from Aizen.

  The copy disappeared. The real Aizen approached, sat beside her.

  "I forfeit."

  The words had barely left his mouth when Mirai felt the world spin. In one moment, she was lying on burned ground. In the next, on soft grass atop a high hill. Countless stars sparkled above them, and the air was pure and cool.

  "What... what happened?"

  "The real exit condition was:" Aizen explained while lying down beside her. "Either defeat the copy, or make me say 'I forfeit.' You succeeded."

  "But... I didn't do anything."

  "Exactly. Sometimes, admitting defeat is the greatest victory."

  Long silence, both staring at the stars.

  "By the way," Aizen said in a casual tone, "tomorrow is your first day at the Demon Lords Academy. I've already enrolled you."

  A deep groan from Mirai. "I don't want to go to any academy anymore. I've had enough lessons for a lifetime."

  Aizen said with a smile, "Go for entertainment. Who knows? You might find something that truly interests you this time."

  Another silence. Then he began in a more serious tone:

  "Mirai, there are many things I wanted to tell you. But I knew you wouldn't listen, not while you believed power was everything."

  "I'm listening now," she said quietly.

  "We fought for hours. You had every winning card—greater power, inexhaustible energy, a legendary weapon. I was at half strength, weaker than most generals. And when I used the duplication again, I was at quarter strength. Yet..."

  "I couldn't touch you," Mirai completed bitterly.

  Aizen nodded, "Because you fought with your muscles, while I fought with my mind." He paused, then added, "You think I'm special because I'm the Demon Lord. The truth? I'm just a commoner. A commoner from a remote village on the borders," he continued while gazing at the stars. "My clan was powerful, yes. We carried spiritual swords within our bodies. But in one night, the previous Demon Lord Sanrio attacked us with his entire army. He wanted our swords."

  His voice became quieter. "What he didn't know was that spiritual swords die with their owners. They become ordinary metal. The only way to obtain them..." He paused, as if the words were heavy. "The warrior must sever his arm with his spiritual sword. Only the sword can separate soul from body while preserving the power."

  "My parents sacrificed their lives so I could escape. I was weak, cowardly, helpless."

  A sad smile. "I decided to become strong. I joined the army, trained day and night. But my talent? Ordinary. My spiritual sword made me slightly faster and stronger, nothing more."

  "But your mother… she was a princess then. She saw in me what I didn't see in myself. Not strength, but intelligence. The ability to find simple solutions to complex problems. She encouraged me, believed in me, pushed me to think instead of just striking."

  He looked at her directly. "In the final battle against Sanrio, we faced a countless army. I protected her from behind with simple spells—shields against arrows, barriers against magic. She carved the path with her tremendous power. Together, we won. She with strength, I with wisdom."

  "And the point of all this?"

  "Power alone isn't enough, Mirai. The world is full of those stronger than you. But the smarter? The wiser? The more patient? They're the ones who remain in the end."

  Mirai froze for a moment, words stuck in her throat. Then, in a barely audible voice:

  "I didn't know... any of this." She looked at her father with wide eyes. "History books say you killed Sanrio. Everyone knows this."

  A smile crossed Aizen's face. "History is written by the victors, and sometimes... by lovers."

  Mirai tilted her head questioningly, "What do you mean?"

  Aizen replied, "When we faced Sanrio, there were no witnesses but us, your mother and I. The battle was in the heart of his ruined castle, amid chaos and destruction."

  He paused, recalling memories. "Your mother delivered the killing blow. Her sword pierced his heart while I was deflecting his guards' attacks."

  Mirai asked, "But why lie? Why credit you?"

  Aizen's face reddened slightly, rarely did Mirai see him embarrassed. "So she could marry me."

  "What?!"

  "She was her parents' only child. A king and queen who wanted a strong husband for their daughter, a hero worthy to rule beside her."

  He laughed quietly. "An ordinary soldier from a destroyed village? They'd never approve. But the hero who killed a tyrant? Different story entirely."

  "Mother did all that... for you?"

  "Yes. Her love was strong enough to sacrifice her personal glory." His eyes gleamed with gratitude. "And though my hand didn't deliver the final blow, I felt deep peace watching Sanrio fall. Justice was achieved, even if not directly by my hand."

  Long silence, then Aizen changed the subject:

  "Forget the past. There's something more important." His tone became more serious. "You know why I prevented you from going to the Demon Lords Academy all those years?"

  "Because you think I'd cause trouble?"

  "No. Because the academy is in a neutral city. Outside my authority, outside my protection."

  He stood, looking at the distant horizon. "There, you're an exposed target. Your power—the spiritual sword, the crimson flame—too tempting. Some would risk everything to obtain it."

  "Equalia city is safe," Mirai protested. "King Neutras doesn't tolerate crime. He protects students..."

  "Neutras is fair, yes. But even the fairest kings can't prevent every danger." He looked at her directly. "Your powers aren't just strength, Mirai. They're a temptation that drives some to madness."

  Mirai sighed. "I understand. I'll be careful."

  Aizen smiled, but worry didn't leave his eyes. "It's late. Let's go."

  **Present Time**

  "During my time at the academy, my life followed a monotonous rhythm: studying, sleeping, and a few assassination attempts. There are countless details from those days—details that are difficult to enumerate in mere words. But the right time will come for all those stories."

  She added: "After graduation, I returned to the castle. For a long time, things were normal, but everything changed... on the day I killed the Demon Lord Zakai."

  Silence took over the place, and Hikari couldn't hide his astonishment as he listened to the story. He couldn't fully comprehend that Mirai was not only a princess, but also the killer of a demon Lord. With curiosity, he asked her: "What drove you to kill him?"

  "It involves my family. I have three younger siblings - Lars, my twin brother, though you'd never guess we're twins. We look nothing alike... different hair, different eyes, completely different powers. Then there's Nanaki, and Darius, my youngest brother. Darius was always special - the strongest among us, with his brilliant mind and fascination for those strange spells from all the different races. His power worried my parents constantly... it made him a target.

  Like me, the academy rejected him at first, but Darius wouldn't give up. He kept insisting until my parents finally gave in.

  Then one day, out of nowhere, Zakai invited our family to a grand celebration at his castle. I noticed Darius slipping away. Sneaking outside. I waited, but he didn't return. I used tracking magic, found his energy... in the castle basement. Weak. Disturbed."

  Her hands clenched. "I rushed like mad. Found him lying on the ground, pale as death. And Zakai standing over him, draining his life energy. Rage blinded me. I released everything I had—crimson flame at full destructive power. He didn't expect the attack, half the castle collapsed from the force."

  Her voice became colder. "He fled outside, I followed. Before everyone, I turned him to ash."

  "But... didn't anyone defend you? They saw what he did!" Hikari's voice carried a note of indignation.

  Mirai shook her head. "No. When Darius woke, he remembered nothing. His memory... erased. Then Iris appeared—Zakai's daughter—with a completely different story."

  "That her father caught Darius stealing a rare artifact from the secret vault. That the confrontation was self-defense."

  Her hands clenched tighter. "Darius swore he was innocent and knew nothing about what happened. But no one believed him."

  "The truth, I believe, is that Zakai placed a subjugation curse on him during the party. Made him walk willingly into the trap. But without proof..."

  "What happened after?" Hikari's question was gentle, careful.

  "A trial. Before King Neutras himself in the neutral court of Equalia." Clear respect entered her voice. "The strongest and wisest of demon lords. He listened to my entire story, every detail. In the end..."

  "He sentenced you to death?" Hikari ventured, worry evident in his tone.

  "He could have. Killing a demon lord is usually an unforgivable crime. But he saw something... perhaps doubt in Iris's story, perhaps mercy for a warrior defending her brother." She sighed. "He ruled eternal exile from demon lands, and stripping of my magical powers."

  "That's... harsh," Hikari said softly.

  "Iris wanted more. She demanded my powers as compensation. The crimson flame, the spiritual sword, everything." A cynical look crossed her face. "Neutras agreed. Justice requires balance, apparently."

  Long silence. Then Hikari asked carefully:

  "Don't you feel wronged? Bitter?"

  She surprised him with a clear laugh. "Wronged? Hikari, that was the best blessing I received!"

  "What?!" His eyes widened in genuine shock.

  "My life in the castle was a gilded prison. Restrictions, protocols, killing boredom. No real challenges, no adventures, no... life." Her eyes gleamed with real enthusiasm. "Exile freed me. Better yet..."

  She turned to him, a warm smile lighting her face. "I met you. Learned things I'd never have known. Lived real adventures. Every day since then has been more exciting than twenty years in that castle."

  Her words touched something deep in Hikari's heart. That smile... wasn't just polite words.

  "Regarding the curse I mentioned earlier," Mirai continued. "In seras, when Iris's men attacked me, they were under a curse. Level twelve. A lethal subjugation curse—either obey or die."

  She looked at him directly. "You removed the curse brilliantly, but..." An apologetic smile appeared. "Nanaki erased your memory afterward. We didn't want to endanger you with knowing too much."

  "And the book? The Absolute Light book?" Hikari asked, pieces falling into place.

  "I asked Nanaki to bring it from the castle library. I knew you needed it." Warmth filled her voice. "I saw something special in you from the beginning."

  Hikari felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. "Mirai... you discovered the Absolute Light matter on your own. Helped me develop, gave me rare tools, you even..." His voice choked, "sacrificed your spiritual sword for me."

  "Oh, that?" She waved her hand dismissively, but her eyes were warm. "Believe me, I feel relieved to be rid of it. Now I won't eliminate enemies with one boring strike. Life will be more... exciting."

  They laughed together, a light, comfortable laugh.

  Under the night sky studded with stars, they sat in comfortable silence. No need for words. The bond between them, born of trust and sacrifice and shared adventures, was stronger than any magic.

  The fire dimmed before them, but another warmth filled the place. The warmth of true friendship, and the silent promise of adventures to come.

  A new beginning. A new chapter. And a future full of limitless possibilities.

  Together.

  (To be continued.)