They spent the rest of the session refining the method. It wasn't flawless—too much mana still destabilised the flow—but for the first time in days, they could see the path forward.
Their instincts hadn't changed—but they'd found a way around them. And that, for now, was enough. Training Ground – Late Afternoon
The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm orange hue over the open training field. A quiet breeze brushed against the training dolls as Ronan and Orin stood at the centre, sweat dripping from their brows. For weeks now, they had been relentlessly refining the mana circulation method they had developed. Today was no different—two extra hours of practice every single day.
Ronan exhaled slowly, his eyes shut in concentration, his flame affinity pulsing gently within. Orin, beside him, was focused as well, his Thunder and Wind elements swirling with rhythmic precision through his mana circuits.
Without warning, a calm but energetic voice came from behind.
"Hello, Ronan. Hello, Orin." Both boys turned their heads in surprise. "Elenor?" Ronan blinked and straightened up. "What brings you here?"
The young girl, barely winded from her walk, strolled beside them. Despite her age, Elenor's presence was anything but ordinary. Her mana was refined and stable—so smooth that even veteran mages would feel slightly humbled.
Elenor stopped beside Ronan, raised her right hand, and summoned a soft purple flame that danced on her palm. "Look," she said proudly. "Hum. See this?"
Ronan chuckled, ruffling her hair with a proud smile. "That's very good, Elenor." Orin leaned in, squinting. "Hey, isn't it brighter than before? It looks more vibrant, too."
Ronan gave a knowing smile. "This flame... it resonates with the user's emotional state. When you're calm, it burns steadily. When you're determined..." he gestured at the flickering intensity, "…it shines like this."
Elenor tilted her head, eyes narrowing curiously. "Then why do I feel like your flame is... off? Almost like it just awakened. But that can't be right..." Her eyes drifted to Ronan's chest, sensing something odd.
Ronan sighed, scratching the back of his head. "That's because I'm masking it. If I didn't, people would notice how strong my flame really is. I'd rather avoid the attention."
"Oooh." Elenor nodded, clearly impressed. "My aunt said she'd teach me more about masking techniques soon." Ronan raised a brow. "Your aunt?" "Hmm..." Elenor gave a soft smile. "Our Ms. Rose." A shiver ran down Ronan and Orin's spines.
"That… that boiled octopus is your aunt?!" Orin blurted out before Ronan slapped a hand over his mouth. "Hush!" Ronan hissed, panicking. "You didn't hear anything, Elenor! Forget that!" Elenor, now very curious, repeated slowly, "Boiled. Octopus?" "Shhh! Not so loud!" Ronan waved his hands nervously, but it was too late.
CRACK. The unmistakable sound of knuckles cracking echoed behind them, followed by a bone-chilling, devilish voice. "So… who exactly is this 'boiled octopus'?" Both boys froze like statues, slowly turning around, eyes wide and trembling.
Standing behind them was Ms. Rose, her presence a swirling storm of menace and authority. She smiled sweetly—too sweetly. Elenor's eyes lit up. "Aunty!" she ran over, grabbing Ms. Rose's hand. "Good afternoon!"
Instantly, Ms. Rose's cold aura faded into sunshine and roses. "Good afternoon, Ele. They're still practising, aren't they? Why don't you head back to the camp and rest now? I have... some important lessons for these two."
"Okay! See you later, Ronan!" Elenor waved, skipping away. "Y-Yeah… see you later..." Ronan replied, voice hollow, as if preparing for his funeral.
As Elenor vanished beyond the training ground, the pleasant smile on Ms. Rose's face cracked... and her devilish tone returned.
"So then..." she cracked her knuckles again. "How exactly do I resemble a boiled octopus, hmm?"
Ronan stumbled. "Ma'am! Not important! We—we made great progress today! Really! You'll be proud!"
He subtly kicked Orin's foot. "Y-Yes! Really! We want to show you!" Orin yelped, catching on instantly. "It's something new!"
Ms. Rose raised a brow. "Go on then. Impress me." With tension thick in the air, the boys took their stances and began demonstrating their new mana circulation method. Streams of elemental energy ran through their bodies in synchronised pulses—faster, cleaner, and more stable than ever before.
Ms. Rose, arms crossed, watched closely. As they finished, a rare smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Well..." she finally said. "That was actually... good. Very good." The boys exhaled in relief, shoulders sagging. "You may stop practising two extra hours starting tomorrow. Congratulations." "Thank you, ma'am!" Ronan and Orin chorused, bowing.
"We'll leave now!" they added quickly, already turning to bolt. But just as they began to run— "Hmm... you know, I do feel like a boiled octopus today." YANK. She caught both by the ears, dragging them back. Their yells echoed across the field. "NO, MA'AM! YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL! GRACEFUL!" Ms. Rose smirked as she tightened her grip. "What's the rule, boys?"
Ronan whimpered, "N-Never insult the octopus, even metaphorically!" Orin added quickly, "Or she'll serve calamari—with us as the main dish!" "Correct," Ms. Rose said sweetly. "And don't forget: The octopus remembers."
A bit away from the training ground, Tavin was strolling toward it when he suddenly heard some cries echoing across the field. Tavin furrowed his brows. What the hell? Is someone hurt? Moments later, he stepped into the training area, only to be greeted by a strange sight.
"What happened to you two? Why are you covered in dust? Did that octopus come by?" Ronan and Orin turned around, trying to speak, but all that came out were muffled groans. Their faces were swollen beyond recognition.
Tavin stared for a moment before bursting out laughing. "What happened to your face?! You look like you got stung by a hive of bees!"
He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. But Ronan and Orin weren't laughing—instead, they were shaking their heads urgently and pointing behind him.
"What?" Tavin said, blinking in confusion. Then, realisation hit him like a thunderbolt. Slowly, he turned around. "Is Ms. Rose standing behind me?" The boys nodded frantically, their swollen expressions full of pity. "So, you too, huh?" Ms. Rose's voice was calm. Too calm. "Ma'am! It was a joke! A misunderstanding!" And then— YANK.
Another cry echoed across the training ground. Now, three voices cried across the training ground, one by one. From a distance, Elenor looked back, tilting her head. "Why does it sound like someone's being murdered...?"
The three limped away from the training ground, cheeks swollen and red like overripe tomatoes. They walked side by side, heads low. "You two really need to improve your perception," Ronan muttered through puffy lips. "True..." Tavin's voice chimed in. "I'll start working on it today."