Under the sun of the Angads Highlands, Narmaya trained in a serene grassy opening, the rocky earth stretching out before her. The balmy zephyr from the Port Breeze Archipelago caressed her cheeks, carrying with it the briny perfume of the nearby sea. The spot was as tranquil as it was ideal for her purpose—secluded enough for her to concentrate, yet still rugged enough to test her mettle.

Narmaya took a firm stance at the clearing's edge, katana in hand. She drew in a deep lungful of the crisp air, savoring the faint tang of salt that the breeze delivered. With a grace that belied the steel in her heart, she initiated a sequence of practiced maneuvers. Each stroke of her blade was meticulous and controlled, slicing through the stillness with silent fervor.

After a brief pause, she murmured to herself, "It's been quite some time since I've practiced like this." Her thoughts were clear, honed in on perfecting her art, but a lingering sense of incompleteness tugged at her consciousness—a suspicion that there remained a profound aspect of mastery she had yet to grasp.

With a shake of her head, she expelled her doubt with a heavy sigh, gripped her sword tighter, and resumed her drills. Her strikes grew more rapid and deliberate, the thumping of her blade against the air intertwining with the natural symphony of the highlands. Her eyes swept the scenery as if searching for an invisible opponent to challenge her.

This secluded area, a bastion of calm amidst the wildness, served as her personal dojo. Here, she could exert herself to the limit without interruption.