As Zeke and Rael faced each other for the first time in true combat, something surged within Zeke—a strange blend of anticipation and pride. In his mind, he admitted, "Rael really has grown rapidly." As Ethan raised his hand to begin the match, he simply said, "Begin."
In that exact moment, Rael vanished.
So did Zeke.
Seth's eyes widened. "Wait—Zeke can teleport too?!"
Ethan shook his head, calm and firm. "No. That's not teleportation… that's speed."
Before Seth could even process that answer, the two reappeared at the far side of the arena in a blink, throwing punches at each other in a blur of motion. Their movements were fluid—no wasted motion, no hesitation. One moment in the center, the next in midair, clashing with blows that cracked the air itself.
Seth stood dumbfounded. "They're disappearing and reappearing like ghosts... but it's just their speed...?"
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "Watch closely."
Their battle became a spectacle—raw speed against instantaneous positioning. Rael's teleportation blinked him through short distances unpredictably. But Zeke, with his mastery of footwork and velocity, kept up, even surpassed it. Every time Rael blinked, Zeke was already in motion, almost as if he had foreseen the spot.
Zeke could feel it—Rael was adapting fast. Too fast.
He's copying me. Even in the middle of a fight… Zeke thought. But he smiled.
In a split second, Zeke's speed surged again, leaving afterimages behind. He swung a punch that grazed Rael's cheek and vanished. When Rael reappeared, Zeke was already beside him, a heavy punch landing on Rael's ribs, but just before the next strike landed—
Rael caught Zeke's fist midair.
With a swift rotation, Rael turned his body and locked Zeke's wrist around his shoulder. In a textbook-perfect judo throw, he shifted Zeke's weight using momentum, hooking Zeke's arm over his back, and launched him high into the air.
Zeke's body crashed hard against the floor, cracking the tiles and stirring dust into the air. The room trembled.
Before anyone could react, Rael teleported to the ground right in front of him. His fist glowed an ominous red, steam hissing from his knuckles.
Seth's voice rang out. "Zeke! Be ready! That's gonna hurt—A LOT!"
Zeke crossed his arms just in time, channeling his Myre energy into a defensive brace.
BOOOOOM!
A massive explosion of heat and force erupted, sending a shockwave across the arena. The very floor beneath them fractured.
Ethan's expression turned serious. "He can control its heat now. It's not as overwhelming as what he used on Seth earlier. He's holding back… but it's refined."
Zeke coughed through the smoke, his arms still raised, shaking slightly. His hands were scorched, bruised—but functional.
He stared up at Rael in disbelief. "What… was that technique?"
Rael extended a hand to help him up.
"You've improved. Your speed... it's nearly unreadable."
Zeke accepted the hand reluctantly, still stunned. "You just threw me like a sack of rice."
"That's called technique," Rael said with a small grin. "Learn it."
Seth clapped. "Hah! Don't pretend that didn't hurt, old man!"
Ethan laughed. "You kids really are something."
Zeke sighed internally. I hate her mouth...
Suddenly, the heavy training room door slammed open with a loud bang! The familiar booming voice echoed off the walls.
"EYYYYY! You three brats! There you are!"
It was the old instructor, face red as ever.
"You've been called—it's about a mission!"
All three of them straightened up.
As they left the scorched arena, Seth leaned closer to Zeke and whispered, "Next time, let's spar just before we head to a mission. Might get my blood pumping better."
Zeke grunted. "If you survive the next one, sure."
Waiting at the hallway entrance was Ris, the stern-faced handler. He handed them a sealed folder, expression unreadable.
"In here," he said, "is the information about your next mission. It's classified as Black-level."
Seth raised an eyebrow. "You give folders like this to fifteen-year-olds?"
Ris didn't flinch. "No. Normally, folders like these are only given when a mission involves high casualty risks or territory breach. A black-level assignment usually means your enemies are inhuman... or worse."
Seth nodded slowly. "So back then, when we were tossed into that mess without any folder or intel—"
Ris nodded grimly. "Yes. You were thrown into a Black-level mission without prior warning."
Ethan crossed his arms. "Someone placed these three in danger without notifying even the supervisors. That person must be above your level, Ris."
Ris looked away. "They are."
Ethan's thoughts turned cold. Is someone targeting Rael? Is this more than just oversight?
Ris gave a slight bow and left.
Seth raised the folder. "Let's read this in my room. Together."
Ethan nodded. "Yeah. No surprises this time."
Rael followed silently, his mind already calculating possibilities. Behind him, Zeke clenched his fists.
The heat from Rael's blow still lingered.
But the fire in Zeke's eyes burned even brighter.