The midday sun shone down on the Stormcrest Academy training grounds, but the atmosphere shifted in an instant. A sharp, brash laughter echoed across the field, cutting through the sounds of drills and sparring.
A group of higher-ranked students, infamous for their arrogance and raw strength, crashed onto the grounds. Their eyes gleamed with challenge as they looked over the scattered lower-ranked students.
"You call this training?" barked the tallest among them, Ravik Thorne, a mountain of muscle and precision. "This pathetic display? You think you can call yourselves fighters?"
Whispers and murmurs spread through the courtyard as students hesitated. Most upperclassmen were strong, but confronting these titans directly could end badly.
Eryndor's fists clenched at his sides, lightning flickering faintly along his forearms. Without hesitation, he stepped forward. "Then let's see how strong you really are."
Ravik's eyes snapped to him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Bold. You? A second-year? Come then, let's see if you're worthy of breathing the same air as us."
In an instant, the courtyard erupted. Eryndor surged forward, wind and lightning intertwining around him, adopting the Eightfold Flow stance he had refined through trance, his father's teachings, and relentless practice.
Ravik lunged first, fists glowing with faint bursts of earth affinity, aiming for Eryndor's torso. Eryndor twisted mid-air, Pulse Step propelling him into a spinning kick that sent a shockwave of wind to deflect the blow. Lightning arced along his arm as he followed up with a palm strike that collided with Ravik's chest in a burst of kinetic energy.
Ravik staggered slightly, eyes narrowing. He moved like a storm—fast, precise, and brutal—but Eryndor flowed around each strike, his body instinctively chaining counters, blocks, and dodges into an almost hypnotic dance.
The courtyard erupted into chaos. Other students began fighting as the tension escalated. One pair clashed in a flurry of spins and flips, another sent aerial kicks slicing through the air, and sparks of elemental energy danced between fists, elbows, and knees.
Eryndor's clash with Ravik became the center of attention. Lightning cracked across the courtyard as each strike collided, wind guiding Eryndor's movements to maintain balance and rhythm. They spun, pivoted, and slammed into the stone floor and walls with a controlled ferocity.
A rapid elbow strike from Ravik sent Eryndor twisting backward, but he rebounded mid-air, using wind to redirect momentum into a spinning kick that caught Ravik's side. Sparks and debris flew from the impact.
"You've improved since the trials," Ravik grunted, eyes blazing. "But raw speed and flashy moves won't save you!"
Eryndor's eyes narrowed, and he surged forward with a combination of lightning-infused punches and Gale Feint sweeps, each movement fluid, seamless, and precise. His body flowed naturally from one technique to the next, dodging strikes that would have crushed ordinary students.
Around them, chaos continued. Students pushed themselves to limits they had never reached, the air thick with wind, electricity, and tension. The ground shook under rapid footwork and powerful strikes, the echoes of martial mastery filling the courtyard.
Finally, lightning arced along Eryndor's fists as he delivered a spinning strike, sending Ravik flying back several meters. Both of them were panting, their movements leaving trails of elemental energy in the air.
Ravik landed with a grunt but didn't rise immediately. He looked at Eryndor, a mix of respect and disbelief in his eyes. "Hmph… not bad… you may just be the storm they whispered about."
Eryndor's chest heaved, sweat dripping down his face. "This isn't about respect… it's about learning," he said, voice steady, adrenaline surging. "Now, everyone else—show me what you've got!"
The courtyard erupted further. Students collided in a dazzling display of hand-to-hand combat, martial arts choreography, and elemental fusion. Spins, flips, feints, and counters moved like a violent dance, while bursts of wind and lightning flowed through Eryndor like extensions of his own body.
By the end of the skirmish, the ground was littered with scorched marks, dust, and energy trails, but a clear truth had emerged: Eryndor was no longer just another student. He had stepped into the storm and danced within it—and for the first time, everyone at Stormcrest Academy saw the potential of the boy carrying legacy, talent, and Ember Tier power all in one body.