"Heh… what a strange little boy you are. Or maybe a fox cub? I'm not sure why you take me so seriously… but very well."
The room echoed with laughter, warm and bright—like someone had found solace in the presence of the fox cub, Ira.
"Master! Master! Pet me!" came Ira's cheery voice.
Nim thought to himself, She's a child in the shape of a fox… What a strange combination.
A voice whispered in his mind, "I can hear you, Master. As you know, we're spiritually bound. But don't be shy… pet me, already."
Nim ran his fingers through the fur of the little fox now licking his arm, and all his burdens melted away with each playful moment.
He whispered gently, "Maybe the dead do leave us… but something—or someone—always comes in their place. Maybe you're my comfort in all this pain, Ira."
"Master, you think of me so much it makes me blush… Ohhh!" she squealed.
Nim groaned, "Damn it, why are you eavesdropping on my thoughts like that?"
"We're spiritually linked on a very deep level, Master. You could say we're parts of each other."
"Alright, then. What are your abilities? From what I can tell, you're the manifestation of one of my angelic powers—because I'm a High Angel-type, right?"
"Yes and no," she replied playfully. "I am indeed strong according to your strength. If you're a Sealed One, I'm also at the level of a stronger-than-average Sealed One—though still beneath you. I possess two transformation abilities. The first lets me become a small blizzard, intangible and swift, piercing enemies with snow like blades or needles. The second lets me become a massive wolf—two meters tall—with a powerful body capable of tearing through steel and bending it."
"Amazing…! Incredible!" Nim clapped like a child witnessing magic, forgetting for a moment that this magic was his own creation.
"Well then, what do you say we train?"
"I wouldn't dare lay a hand on you, Master."
"Oh come on, drop the formalities. Just follow me."
Ira didn't respond with words. Instead, her body dissolved into a snowstorm that funneled into Nim's chest—straight into his massive core.
Nim chuckled. "That tickles a bit…"
"Master, watch what I can do!" Ira's voice echoed in his ears.
Suddenly, Nim felt the flow of World Essence rushing toward him, his core devouring it like a ravenous beast—recycling it, fueling his blood, muscle, and tissues. He felt more alive, more powerful.
Even though he was already strong, this was on a different level. Ira controlled the flow of essence with greater finesse than he ever could. Her touch was elegant and refined, a natural-born master where Nim still stumbled.
"How do you feel, Master?"
"I feel… lucky to have you with me."
"Master! You're so forward… Ohhh, now I'm embarrassed!"
Nim smiled, heart warmed by the liveliness in her voice.
He stood up and opened the door. He was currently living in a lab-provided residence after his transformation, taking time to recover. A day had passed, and now it was time to return to his barracks—the room he once shared with his late father.
The thought of his father's death struck him like a sudden gale: brutal and overwhelming. He had even lashed out at Gina in his grief. Though he hadn't harmed her, it left her emotionally shaken. He regretted it. She hadn't known what Commander Flora had planned, and Nim couldn't blame her.
As for Flora herself, he understood her reasons—even if not all of them. He had little choice but to forgive her, reluctantly, and maintain a good relationship.
He'd also been officially exempted from the Academy's trials.
"Ah, life is strange," Nim sighed. "So many twists… so many unexpected gifts."
"But Master," Ira teased, "you're still just a child. Angels live so long, a single sneeze could last your entire lifetime!"
He couldn't help but laugh at the last line. "She might be a child… but she's got a mouth on her."
"I'm sorry, Master! Please forgive your loyal and humble servant!"
Stepping out into the gloomy, cold night, Nim didn't really feel the chill anymore—but he said it anyway, out of habit. He took a familiar alley path toward the barracks. After a few minutes, he saw the building he once called home. It radiated warmth… or perhaps it was just the nostalgia.
Suppressing his thoughts, he walked in and whispered to Ira, "Come out."
She emerged from around him, startling both men and boys alike.
"Am I so exhausted I'm hallucinating? Is that a dog?" a man muttered, pointing at Ira.
Another man smacked him on the back. "You idiot, it's a fox. But yeah, it's a weird one—bigger than usual. Still, who cares? This city has all kinds of strange hobbies. Don't get too shocked."
"Yeah, like you—"
The man didn't get to finish his sentence before the other hit him at the base of the neck, knocking him out cold.
"My god, I missed this kind of chaos," Nim chuckled, leaving the comedic scene behind as he made his way to the armored training hall. Ira trailed after him, drawing surprised glances—but the soldiers didn't pay her much mind. They'd seen stranger things. A white fox didn't scare them.
"Master, why does no one react to me? I was just born last night! Shouldn't they be asking you things, showing shock?"
"Ah, yes… well, these are strangers. That's what makes them special—no one wants to get hit just for asking questions."
She stayed quiet after that.
When they entered the armored training hall, it was empty.
"As expected… everyone's either asleep, eating, goofing off, or standing watch at the city walls. Let's begin."
"Okay," Ira's soft voice rang in his mind.
She took a few steps away from Nim. Then, her body expanded in a flash, becoming something closer to a mythical beast. Her eyes gleamed with a cold more intense than ever before.
Nim smiled as he saw her. Honestly, she was an irreplaceable ally.
He conjured a long ice sword in his hand—and prepared for combat.