Sora wiped the sweat from his forehead, slowly catching his breath. "So, tell me, what do I have to do to become better?"

Jarek's smile widened, "Finally, a real question. All right, listen up. First, stop always aiming for the obvious. Your attacks, while pretty well executed, are predictable. If I can read them, so can any slightly experienced monster or mercenary."

He picked up a stone from the ground and passed it from one hand to the other as he continued. "Secondly, learn to observe. Watch your opponents, their posture, their movements, even their breathing. A split second of hesitation on their part can be your opening."

Sora nodded slowly, absorbing the advice. "And third?"

Jarek tossed the stone into the air before catching it in one fluid motion. "Thirdly... stop relying too much on your strength. Your right arm is still wounded, it can be seen for miles around. So why do you keep using it as if nothing's wrong? If you want to fight with all your strength, use your whole body. A sword isn't just your arms. It's the legs, the torso, the brain."

Sora looked down at his blackened arm, still numb despite the effect of the potion. Jarek was right, and Sora knew it. He clenched his fist, more frustrated with himself than with his improvised instructor.

"Resume your posture." Jarek ordered. His tone was firmer this time, less mocking. "Let's do it again. And this time, use your head, not just your muscles."

Sora inhaled deeply, straightened up and adjusted his position, distributing his weight differently. It was no longer a question of rushing, but of calculating every movement.

The fight resumed, and this time Sora tried to apply Jarek's advice. He feinted more often, observing his opponent's reactions. Although his efforts remained clumsy, Jarek seemed to note each attempt with satisfaction.

After several exchanges, during which Sora didn't manage to touch Jarek once and during which he collapsed several times to the ground under the power of his instructor's blows, Jarek raised a hand to signal the end. "Not bad, kid. It's already a bit better when you use your brain a bit. But you're still far from ready, even your attempts at feints are too far-sighted, your body movements scream the blows you're preparing to make, but you're on the right track. Knowing how to fight can't be learned in a day."

Sora collapsed to one knee, out of breath but satisfied. He could feel that his efforts were beginning to pay off.

Jarek handed him a flask of water. "Drink up. And rest. Tomorrow we'll do even worse."

Sora took the canteen with a smirk. "I'm beginning to think you enjoy torturing me."

"Exactly," Jarek replied with a wink. "But it's for your own good, kid."

As Sora drank, he glanced around at the spectators still inside the Order. Some seemed surprised, others skeptical, but he no longer cared. He felt he was making real progress on his way up the Tower, and this sensation was far more satisfying than he could have imagined. As Jarek walked away, he turned one last time and said: "By the way, this afternoon, meet me in the Order's main hall, I'll have something to show you. And come with clean clothes, you look like a beggar."

Sora remained on the floor for a moment, gourd still in hand, watching Jarek walk away nonchalantly. The idea of this "something to show him" titillated his curiosity, but he already knew it wasn't going to be a piece of cake. With Jarek, nothing was.

He rose slowly to his feet, grunting slightly under the pain of his aching muscles, and made his way through the Order to the room he was renting. On the way, he came across several members of the Order looking at him with expressions ranging from amusement to astonishment. A few murmurs were heard, but he ignored them.

"None of this matters," he thought as he opened the door to his room.

Once inside, he put down his equipment and set about cleaning his armor and clothes. As he rubbed away the stains of dirt and sweat, he thought back to Jarek's words. Each piece of advice echoed in his mind, strengthening his resolve.

As it was still early in the day, Sora had a few hours before he had to return to Jarek in the Order, so Sora took the opportunity to rest and hope to regain some of his strength.

Sora lay back on the bed in his small bedroom, his muscles protesting with every movement. He stared at the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head, letting his mind wander. Jarek's advice looped through his mind, mingled with his own doubts.

"Stop aiming for the obvious... Watch your opponents... Use your whole body."

These phrases sounded simple, but applying them was another matter altogether. Sora thought back to his failures of the morning. Every missed shot, every fall, every anticipated feint. He closed his eyes, promising himself to do better.

When he awoke, a few hours had passed. His body felt slightly better, though the pain was still there. He sat on the edge of the bed, stretched slowly and got up to get ready.

Putting on the clothes he'd just washed, he grabbed his sword. He took a deep breath before leaving the room. Curiosity drove him forward, but a slight apprehension had also set in. "What exactly does Jarek want to show me?"

He arrived at the Order's main hall, which was as busy as ever. Jarek was already waiting for him, leaning nonchalantly against the counter where Nerris was sitting. At the sight of Sora, she smiled at him.

"There you are at last," Jarek said, straightening up. "Ready for what's next?"

Sora nodded, trying to hide his hesitation.

"Good. Follow me." Jarek added as he moved into the Order.

The sight of these two people chatting together aroused great interest in all the other mercenaries around them, who couldn't keep their eyes off each other.

Jarek led Sora into a more remote part of the Order, towards a room he'd never seen before. It was partly hidden behind a large tapestry depicting an ancient epic battle. Jarek pushed aside the fabric and opened a heavy wooden door.

The interior was dark, lit only by a few magic lanterns hanging from the walls. Weapons, armor and strange objects dotted the room, giving the impression of entering a secret treasure room.

"Welcome to the Orders Room." Jarek announced with a ceremonious tone, before resuming more seriously. "This is where the most dangerous quests the Order receives are posted. Naturally, only the best of the Order are allowed to enter here. Apart from the hosts and hostesses, I think there must be five of us mercenaries who have access to these missions."

Sora looked around the darkened room, despite the lanterns scattered on the walls. The atmosphere of this place was really special, everything seemed heavy, as if everything seen here was not to be revealed under any circumstances. "So, why did you bring me here? I'm not sure I'm one of the five people allowed in here."

Resuming his condescending air, Jarek smiled before answering. "Indeed, under normal circumstances you wouldn't have anything to do here. But since I'm training you, I've been allowed to show you around this room."

Sora frowned skeptically. "Visit? Is that all? You dragged me here just to show me a room I'm not allowed to be in?"

Jarek burst out laughing, a sound that reverberated around the room like a mocking echo. "Of course not, kid. If it was just a sightseeing tour, I'd have sent you Nerris, she'd have been happy to explain everything to you in great detail. No, I brought you here to show you something very specific."

He approached a large painting hanging at the back of the room. It was divided into several sections, each filled with parchments with worn edges. Some were marked with a golden seal, others bore sinister symbols. Jarek grabbed a scroll from a section adorned with an emblem in the shape of a skull surrounded by claws.

"This quest, for example." He held up the parchment in front of Sora, displaying lines of tight writing. "A Gold-class mission. As you know, that's the highest rank you can find here. This kind of quest is reserved for Gold-ranked mercenaries, which is to say: me... There are so few of them that you're very lucky to be able to catch a glimpse of one with your own eyes."

Sora looked quickly at the parchment stretched out in front of him, a look of incomprehension spreading across his face. "And what do you want me to do with this quest? Do you want me to complete it? In that case, you're out of your mind."

Jarek shook his head with an amused, mocking smile. "Well... I didn't think I hit you very hard this morning; I'll have to think about toning down my strength next time..."

Feeling targeted by this umpteenth dig at Jarek, Sora felt a little ridiculous. "And so, why are you showing me this mission?"

Jarek rolled the parchment between his fingers before placing it in the satchel hanging from his waist. His gaze locked with Sora's, this time without the shadow of his eternal mocking smile. "Because this mission, kid, I'm the one who's going to carry it out, and you're going to accompany me to see what level you need to be to be able to move up to the next level of the Tower."

Sora froze, eyes wide. "What? Accompany you? On a Gold quest? You've got to be kidding me."

Jarek burst out laughing, a low laugh that echoed around the room. "No, kid. This is no joke. You want to climb the Tower, don't you? Then it's time I showed you what a Gold rank on floor - 5 is really made of."

Sora felt a wave of panic mixed with excitement rise up inside him. A Gold quest? Just the idea of witnessing this level of challenge was terrifying, let alone knowing he'd be part of it, one way or another. His gaze passed quickly from Jarek to the parchment he had just put away.

"Wait, wait..." Sora raised his hands in protest. "I'm still Obsidian rank, and you want to take me on a mission that could kill Gold mercenaries? I may be motivated, but that doesn't mean I'm suicidal, I want to stay alive."

Jarek shrugged, clearly amused by Sora's concern. "Ohlala, a real kid... You're always overdoing it. If I'm taking you on a mission that's way too big for you, there's a good reason. You won't be there to fight, kid. You'll be there to observe, to learn, and maybe, if the opportunity arises, to make yourself useful. There's nothing like a baptism of fire."

Sora frowned, puzzled. "What if I come up against a monster or a situation I can't handle? What exactly do you expect?"

Jarek's smile grew wider, almost carnivorous. "I'm not going to chew you out of all your work either. I expect you to think, to apply what I've told you. This isn't a mission where you have to be heroic, it's a mission where you have to survive. If you can do that, you'll have already reached a milestone that many people have never reached."

Sora took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions stirring in his mind. One part of him wanted to refuse, but the other, the one burning with an irrepressible desire to become stronger, knew he couldn't pass up this opportunity.

"All right," he said at last, with a mixture of resignation and determination in his voice. "But if I die, I'll haunt you for the rest of your life."

Jarek burst into a thunderous laugh and gave him a friendly, but heavy, pat on the shoulder. "If it's your ghost haunting me, I have little to fear."

Taking another dig at himself from Jarek, Sora didn't react any more than that, he was getting used to it. "When are we going on this mission?"

Keeping that same smile on his face, Jarek looked Sora in the whites of the eyes. "We're leaving now. We should be home by early tonight."

Not really sure whether to worry or not, Sora sighed heavily. "My arm's still not healed, you know that, right?"

"Pff... Always complaining. What do you think your workout was for this morning? I wanted to see how your body was holding up after your mission yesterday. And you passed the test. Not with flying colors, but you passed all the same." Jarek retorted as he made his way out of the room.

"Well, hurry up and come in, I can't wait for you all day." He added as he opened the door to the Order's main hall.

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