The morning sun cast long golden rays over the academy's training ground, painting the dewdrops on the grass with shimmering light.
The crisp air carried the scent of freshly turned earth, mingled with the faint remnants of mana lingering from previous training sessions.
Ronan and Kairos arrived early, their eager steps echoing lightly on the stone-paved path. Ahead of them, Samantha stood engaged in conversation with Mr. Felix.
Samantha turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, her usual warm smile spreading across her face as she regarded her younger brothers. "Ah, you're here early. That's good," she remarked playfully. Mr. Felix, too, acknowledged their presence with a nod.
"Good morning, sir," Ronan and Kairos greeted in unison.
With a sudden glint of mischief in her eyes, Samantha grabbed a practice sword and tossed it towards Ronan, who caught it instinctively. "Let's see what you've learned so far," she declared, her voice carrying both challenge and encouragement. "No magic, just pure swordsmanship and perception skills."
Kairos, already wary of Samantha's gruelling training methods, chuckled and patted Ronan's shoulder with feigned sympathy. "Best of luck, brother. Try not to cry by the end of it."
Ronan scoffed, gripping the sword tightly. "We'll see who's laughing when this is over."
Kairos backed away to join Mr. Felix, knowing better than to involve himself. The air grew charged with anticipation as Samantha took a stance, her feet planted firmly, yet her posture fluid like a river waiting to surge.
Ronan mirrored her stance, muscles tensing, his sharp eyes locked onto her movements. A faint breeze rustled through the training ground, carrying the whispers of battle yet to unfold.
The moment of stillness was shattered. Ronan lunged first, his blade slicing through the air in a clean arc aimed at Samantha's shoulder.
But she sidestepped effortlessly, her movements precise, as if predicting his every intention. She responded with a swift counter, her blade coming from below in a deceptive upward swing. Ronan barely managed to parry, the force of the impact reverberating through his arms.
The duel intensified. Ronan attacked with calculated aggression, his strikes powerful and relentless. Samantha, however, moved with grace, weaving through his offence like a dancer caught in an elaborate performance.
She dodged and deflected with an elegance that seemed almost supernatural, her sword finding the gaps in his technique with pinpoint accuracy.
"Good, good," Samantha praised between strikes. "You've improved since last time. But your footwork and movement are still too rigid." But "Her gentle smile twisted into something sharper. "I won't hold back now."
Her speed exploded. One moment, she was before him; the next, she had slipped past his defences. Ronan gritted his teeth, his heartbeat hammering in his ears.
He strained his Keen Eye perception, flickering his eyes rapidly to catch the smallest shift in her stance, the subtlest twitch in her muscles.
He adapted. As Samantha struck again, he predicted her move just in time, meeting her blade with his own. Sparks of friction flew as the swords clashed against each other. His breathing was ragged, sweat trailing down his brow, but exhilaration lit up his face.
From the sidelines, Mr. Felix observed with a hand on his chin. "Ronan's physical strength is impressive, but in real combat, magic and physical prowess must complement each other."
A voice from behind interrupted. "You should have seen him in an actual fight."
Mr. Felix turned to find Mr. Alden approaching with his usual confident stride. "What's that supposed to mean?" the instructor asked curiously.
Mr. Alden smirked. "He is capable of taking down a Rank-Three monster alone."
Mr Felix's brows furrowed, but he didn't say anything.
Mr Alden chuckled.
Back in the arena, Samantha pressed harder, pushing Ronan to his limits. Despite exhaustion creeping into his muscles, Ronan refused to yield.
He had trained too hard and fought too many battles to let himself be outmatched so easily. His swordplay became sharper, his footwork more refined. Each strike carried not just raw strength, but refined skill.
When Orin, Tavin, and Andrea arrived at the training ground, their footsteps were barely noticed amid the flurry of clashing swords. They greeted the instructors, but their eyes were drawn to the fierce battle unfolding before them.
Andrea watched with narrowed eyes, an unease curling in her chest. "Is Ronan really this strong with a sword?" she mused to herself.
Sweat dripped from both combatants, their breath coming in sharp bursts, but neither slowed. If anything, Ronan was growing faster, adapting further. His eyes burned with determination, his body responding instinctively, matching Samantha's relentless pace.
But then—
A sudden feint.
Samantha vanished from his sight for a fraction of a second. And in that moment, he felt the sting of her blade against his wrist, disarming him. His sword clattered to the ground, and the battle was lost.
Silence followed. Then, Samantha lowered her sword, breathing hard but grinning proudly. "That was excellent. You've improved beyond my expectations."
Ronan exhaled deeply, wiping sweat from his brow. "Still not enough to beat you, though."
She ruffled his hair affectionately. "Not yet. But soon."
Mr. Felix and Mr. Alden approached, both offering words of praise. "You both did well," Mr. Felix said, nodding approvingly. "This is the kind of growth we need to see."
Mr. Alden smirked and turned to Ronan, Orin, Tavin, and Andrea. "Now that you've warmed up, let's go. You're about to get a new skill."
The training ground buzzed with excitement as the group departed, anticipation hanging thick in the air.
Mr. Alden led Ronan, Orin, Tavin, and Andrea through the grand entrance of the skill archives, a towering building within the academy that housed countless tomes, scrolls, and enchanted crystals containing various combat techniques.
The scent of old parchment and faint traces of mana filled the air as they stepped inside. Golden inscriptions lined the walls, detailing the legacy of past masters who had once walked these halls.
Ronan's eyes gleamed with anticipation as he scanned the countless techniques categorised on shelves and glowing pedestals. Without hesitation, he turned to Mr. Alden and said, "Sir, I want a movement skill. I read about Flame Step and Shadow Step. I think Shadow Step suits me better. What do you think?"
Mr. Alden raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Ronan's knowledge. "I was going to suggest Flame Step for you, considering your fire affinity, but you seem to have given this some thought. Why do you believe Shadow Step is the better choice?"
Ronan took a moment before answering, his expression serious. "Flame Step has an undeniable advantage. It's explosive and provides incredible speed, but it heavily relies on mana. If I run out, I'm left with nothing. Shadow Step, on the other hand, is much harder to master and uses less mana. Once I master it, it'll increase my normal speed without relying on the skill. I can use this skill with mana and physical strength. That's why I want to choose Shadow Step."
Mr. Alden studied Ronan carefully, then nodded in approval, a hint of pride in his gaze. "You're thinking beyond raw power, considering sustainability and adaptability. That's a good sign. Shadow Step is difficult, but if you're willing to put in the effort, it could become one of your greatest assets."
With Mr. Alden's approval, Ronan made his choice. Meanwhile, Orin, Tavin, and Andrea also selected their skills, each drawn to a different technique that suited their combat styles. With their new abilities chosen, they moved to the training grounds, eager to begin their practice.
The sun climbed higher in the sky as the four students trained in separate corners of the field. Ronan focused entirely on Shadow Step, attempting to blend his presence with the surroundings, shifting his weight precisely to step without detection.
However, each attempt left him stumbling, his balance disrupted, his energy quickly draining. His movements were sluggish compared to the fluid execution described in the texts.
Again and again, he pushed himself, trying to harness the skill's elusive nature. His muscles burned, sweat dripped down his forehead, and frustration crept in. After an hour, his legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed onto the grass, panting heavily.
"This is so hard," he muttered, staring up at the sky. His entire body ached from exertion. Shadow Step was not just about movement; it required a different way of thinking, a shift in how he perceived space and motion.
Mr. Alden, who had been observing from a distance, clapped his hands, drawing the students' attention. "That's enough for today. Pushing too hard will only lead to injury. We'll resume training tomorrow."
Ronan exhaled sharply, half in relief and half in frustration. As he sat up, he wiped his sweat away, trying to gather his thoughts. He had been so absorbed in training that he nearly forgot about Ms. Amara.
His heart sank. He had left without meeting her, and she had been expecting him. As someone who also wielded fire magic, she had shown interest in mentoring him, but instead, he had followed Mr. Alden without so much as a word to her.
That alone would have been enough to upset her, but knowing Ms. Amara's fiery personality, he knew she was likely fuming.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I should go see Ms. Amara. I just hope she's not too angry."
Ronan groaned but stood up, shaking off the fatigue. No use delaying the inevitable. Taking a deep breath, he made his way toward Ms. Amara's training ground, preparing for whatever fiery wrath awaited him.