The morning sun began to pierce the outskirts of Tulis. The adventurer training grounds were damp with soil that had absorbed last night's rain and morning dew. Gail stood in the center of the training grounds. The swords gripped in both hands were his usual "Twin Fangs"—a short blade called "Guardian Fang" in his left hand and a longsword called "Wind Severance" in his right. But today was different from usual. Something dwelling deep in his chest wavered constantly at the edge of his consciousness. Jin stood at the edge of the training grounds. Her form was human, yet the air around her alone was different. Her silver-white hair swayed faintly in the wind, though that wind was not natural—it moved only around Jin. Her jade-green eyes gazed upon Gail. "First, you must grasp the sensation of calling the wind." Jin's voice was clear. Like wind itself, like silence. "The sword techniques you have used until now were learned through your body. But this power is different. You do not feel it with your body, but with your heart." Gail nodded silently. "I understand. I'll try." Gail took a deep breath. He directed his consciousness inward, toward his chest. Something existed there. A strange presence, as if wind were blowing through him. Gail raised his swords. He set his stance for defense with the short blade and readied the longsword. The basic posture of his usual dual-wielding style. But today was different. Today, he would use this wind power. "Come," he murmured. He tried to draw out that something from the depths of his heart. (Come. Wind, answer me.) But nothing happened. Gail furrowed his brow. Again, and again, he concentrated his consciousness. But the wind did not stir in the slightest. The swords remained merely swords. No power dwelled within them. "Do not rush," Jin said quietly. "Your body is rejecting this power. That is not abnormal. Rather, it is a natural reaction. You have rejected magic your entire life. Your body cannot suddenly accept power." Gail lowered his swords. Jin's words were correct. Yet frustration still mounted. "Once more." Gail readied his swords again. This time, more carefully. More cautiously. He concentrated his consciousness on the wind core dwelling deep in his chest. (Come. You are part of me. You are my power.) That was the moment. Suddenly, a violent wind erupted from the swords. With a roaring sound, the air split. Gail himself was blown backward and tumbled across the ground. "Ugh!" Dust swirled up. Gail coughed as he rose to his feet. His entire body ached. His left shoulder had been struck hard. "That is what happens when you cannot control the output," Jin said. She had not moved. The air around her remained unchanged. As if nothing had occurred at all. "Your will and this power's output are not aligned. You call 'come,' and the wind answers. But you cannot control how much power it answers with." Gail steadied his breathing. "Then what should I do?" "You must try slowly, again and again. Until your body grows accustomed to this power." Gail took another deep breath. (I've spent twenty years honing my swordsmanship, so why is magic this difficult?) But such thoughts were meaningless. He was magically incompatible. That fate had been decided the moment he was born into this world. But now that he had gained Jin's power, that fate had changed. Gail readied his swords once more. Throughout the morning, Gail repeated his attempts over and over. Sometimes the wind came, sometimes it didn't. Sometimes it erupted violently, sometimes there was no response. At times the wind blew in the opposite direction, showering sand and dust in his face. At times his swords trembled, nearly slipping from his hands. Again and again. Drenched in sweat. Jin watched from the edge of the training grounds. In her eyes, there seemed to be the faintest hint of a smile. "Don't laugh," Gail said with a wry smile. "I am not laughing," Jin replied. "I simply thought you were earnest. That is all." At those words, Gail felt slightly relieved. Past midday, Gail's body began to cry out in protest. His arms were heavy. His shoulders ached. Both his legs trembled. But he could not stop. Jin had given him this power. He had a responsibility to repay her kindness. On another attempt, Gail concentrated his consciousness. He touched gently, as if caressing the wind core dwelling in his chest. (Gently. Kindly. Slowly.) And he swung his swords. In that moment, a faint wind flowed along the blades. Not an eruption. A controlled, single stream. Gail instantly directed it toward his target. He brought the swords down. Wind pressure rushed toward the target. A cracking sound. The wooden dummy split cleanly in two. Gail's heart leaped. (I succeeded...) But that joy was short-lived. On the next attempt, no wind came. On the one after that, it came but in the wrong direction. On the one after that, the output was too strong. Gail sat down on the ground. The sunset painted the training grounds crimson. His exhausted body had lost all will to move. "I'm useless like this," he murmured. Jin sat down beside him. It was a human gesture, yet it seemed like the first time Jin had done such a thing. The gentle breeze around her remained, still enveloping her. "There is no need to rush," Jin said quietly. "Your body will need time to grow accustomed to this power. That is not your fault, but a characteristic of your body. For a magically incompatible person's body to suddenly accept the power of a great spirit should be impossible." Gail looked at Jin. "But I have to do this. I need this power to conquer the Spiral Tower. It's your debt to repay." "That is true," Jin nodded. "So do not rush. You have worked harder than anyone until now. For twenty years, every single day, you honed your swordsmanship. You need only make this power your own in the same way. It will take time, but you can do it." Gail gripped his swords again. His body was utterly exhausted. But within that exhaustion, there was a small sense of accomplishment. Just once, he had controlled the wind by his own will. He must not forget that sensation. He must grasp it once more. Gail stood up. "I'll continue tomorrow. As many times as it takes." Jin smiled. It was a warm, human smile. "That is good." In that moment, Gail wondered what Jin truly thought of him. Was it only to fulfill a promise made twenty-two years ago? Or was there another reason? But he decided to set that question aside for now. The sky above the training grounds gradually darkened. The streetlights of Tulis began to glow with weak magical light. Night was approaching. Gail stood beside Jin, still gripping his swords. Until this power became truly his own, he would try. Again and again. The sincerity and effort cultivated over twenty years as a swordsman. They were now being tested in a new form. Gail felt the wind core in his chest. He still could not control it. There was still resistance. But surely, it was beginning to become part of him. The journey to the Spiral Tower was still distant. But today, Gail had taken the first step toward that journey. Jin gazed upon Gail. In her deep jade-green eyes dwelt something complex. Not merely to fulfill a promise made twenty-two years ago, but something else. Yet she could not put that feeling into words. For her, who had lived through the ages as a spirit, human emotion was too difficult. All she could do was watch over Gail as he strived. That was everything Jin could do now.