Theron vs hector
Outside, thunder rumbled faintly across the plains. A storm gathered on the horizon, casting gray shadows over the Auren'del estate. The training courtyard glimmered faintly with old mana residue — echoes of countless duels fought before. The air hummed, heavy with tension and the faint scent of smoke still lingering from Selene and Mira's earlier clash.
Now, it was Hector and Theron's turn.
Two brothers.
One calm and quiet — the other loud and blazing.
They stood opposite each other in the courtyard, mana swirling faintly around them as the runic stones beneath their feet shimmered to life.
Theron rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck with a grin. "So what's it gonna be, kid? You gonna catch up to our score today, or is it gonna increase by two?"
Hector sighed, brushing a bit of dust from his sleeve. "Our head-to-head, huh? If I recall… it's 33–32. I think this time—"
"Wrong." Theron interrupted, his brow twitching. "You've lost thirty-four times. Don't even try to fraud the score."
"Fine, fine." Hector lifted his hands in mock surrender. "The difference's the same anyway. Let's just get this over with."
Theron grinned wide, fiery mana flickering around him. "Good. Better make this interesting."
Runic symbols glowed faintly across his arms and chest — a network of enchantment marks passed down from their father. His body radiated with contained power, veins of light threading under his skin as flames coiled at his fists.
"Enhancement through enchantment and flame magic," Hector murmured. "Classic Theron move."
It was a peculiar combination — not pure spellcasting, not pure martial technique. A fusion of physical enhancement fueled by mana inscriptions that refined muscle response, combustion output, and kinetic discharge.
In short, a walking explosion of control and chaos.
Hector smirked faintly. "Funny, isn't it? A mage who prefers close combat. Meanwhile, your flames could level a fortress."
Theron just cracked his knuckles. "Why bother blowing up a fortress when I can punch through it?"
"Honestly I think that's cool, but you should learn fighting like a mage too " Hector deadpanned.
Theron laughed. Maybe you're right. But this is more fun."
Without warning, the ground cracked beneath his feet.
He launched forward.
A shockwave split the air.
The sound arrived half a second late.
Mira — sitting beside Selene at the observation platform — flinched at the blast. "What the—?! He vanished!"
Selene's eyes narrowed sharply. "He broke the sound barrier."
"What?!"
"He's hitting at least five to eight times the speed of sound," Selene continued, her golden eyes tracking the blur of heat that was Theron. "The shockwave proves it."
Mira blinked in disbelief. "Five to eight times—?! Are you telling me that's even possible?"
Selene's lips curved faintly. "It is. Though not for you… yet."
Mira groaned. "So you were holding back against me, huh?"
Selene just smiled and looked away. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Down below, the brothers clashed.
Punch—parry.
Kick—block.
Flame—wind.
Their movements blurred into flashes of color and sound. Each impact carried a thunderous weight, the mana barrier crackling as shockwaves rippled across the courtyard.
Theron's flames roared with every strike. His body moved like a living furnace — each motion igniting bursts of combustion that propelled his limbs faster, harder, deadlier.
Hector, by contrast, fought like flowing air. Every parry redirected force, every movement calculated. Wind wrapped around his limbs, accelerating his reactions and dissipating excess heat. But the tempo was brutal — every second, Theron's speed adapted.
'He's learning again,' Hector thought grimly, pivoting under a burning elbow strike. 'His enchantment cycles are syncing with his muscle rhythm… he's reading my air shifts already.'
Theron grinned mid-swing, his flaming fist whistling past Hector's cheek. "Come on, little bro! Don't tell me that's all!"
"Still the same muscle-brained brawler," Hector muttered. "Not much of a strategist, but your growth rate's ridiculous."
Theron stomped down — boom! — fire erupted, propelling him skyward. He flipped, then dove like a meteor, his knee wreathed in molten light. The ground exploded on impact, forcing Hector to throw up a wind barrier. Dust and flame burst outward in a fiery cyclone.
Selene's gaze sharpened. "His acceleration… it's unstable. He's overclocking his body beyond natural limits."
Mira leaned forward. "Can he even control that?"
"He doesn't need to," Selene said calmly. "He just needs to hit Hector once."
When the smoke cleared, Theron stood at the center — aura blazing like a miniature sun. Hector panted softly from several meters away, his shirt torn, mana shimmering faintly around him.
"Not bad," Hector said, brushing off a burn mark on his sleeve. "You've gotten faster."
Theron cracked his neck again. "You've gotten talkier."
He lunged forward again — but this time, Hector didn't move. Instead, his lips curved into a sly grin.
Theron hesitated. That grin always meant trouble.
"What's with that smile?" he demanded, stopping mid-step. "What crazy plan are you—"
BOOM!
The ground exploded beneath his foot, throwing him back several meters.
Then another BOOM erupted behind him.
And another to his left.
Each detonation chained to the next like dominos, locking him in a deadly rhythm of heat and pressure.
"What the hell—?!" Theron yelled, raising a flame barrier. Sweat glistened down his temple.
Across the field, Hector stood with one hand raised. Calm. Collected.
And annoyingly smug.
"Well," Hector said, "hell nah — I won't last long if I keep playing defense. You're faster, stronger, and burning hotter every second. So… I improvised."
He gestured lazily to the air. "I converted the atmosphere into a reactive medium. Every tiny disturbance — even the slightest change in wind pressure — ignites it."
Selene's eyes flickered. "He modified the mana density of the environment?"
"Exactly," Hector continued, half-talking to himself. "Any shift in air displacement causes localized ignition. Basically… move, and it explodes."
Theron froze mid-motion, flames flickering uncertainly around his fists. "You turned the air into a bomb?!"
"Pretty much."
"How the hell are you moving, then?"
Hector smiled wider. "Come on, big bro — you think I'd make a trap I couldn't walk through? There's always a flaw. You'll figure it out next time."
Theron scowled, scanning the field — but before he could move again, another chain of explosions lit up the sky.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
He grit his teeth, raising his mana to the maximum. The air shimmered with heat, the barrier around the courtyard pulsing violently as it absorbed the shockwaves.
When the final blast died down, Theron knelt on one knee, coughing, smoke curling from his shoulders. His aura flickered weakly, sweat dripping down his brow — but his grin remained.
"You're insane," he said hoarsely.
Hector tilted his head. "Psycho? Yeah, I get that a lot."
Theron laughed weakly. "Next time… I'm blowing the whole field up."
"You always say that," Hector replied, helping him up. "And you always lose before you do."
"Yeah, yeah." He exhaled heavily. "We're tied now."
"Guess so."
A beat passed — then Theron collapsed backward, groaning. "I hate you."
Hector sat down beside him with a tired chuckle. "Love you too, bro."
By the time the storm broke, the duel was over. The courtyard lay cracked and scorched, faint mana light glowing across the stones. Rain fell softly, cooling the heat from their battle.
Later that night, the house was lively — maids passing trays, laughter echoing faintly from the dining hall. Hector, sitting on the balcony rail, leaned back and sighed.
"Talking about the maids," he muttered under his breath, "I swear, this life's got blessings. All of them are ten out of ten. If only I wasn't trying to be the refined type…" He smirked faintly. "Nope. Gotta act natural. We let the girls chase us, this new face of mine got limitless potential, smirks... Now I feel like a narcissist."
"Talking to yourself again?" came Mira's voice from behind.
Hector flinched slightly, turning to see her leaning against the doorway. "You're getting good at sneaking up."
"Maybe you're just distracted." She walked over, smiling faintly. "They're leaving for the academy soon, huh?"
"Yeah," Hector said quietly. "It'll be quiet without them."
Mira crossed her arms. "You'll miss them."
"Of course. They're my pain in the neck."
She chuckled softly. "They'll visit at least once a year. We'll join them in three."
He nodded, watching raindrops trace down the window. "What'll you do with those three years?"
"Train, obviously." She lifted her chin proudly. "I still need to catch up to and surpass Selene. I'll ask Dad for a private tutor."
"Well, if only I shared that enthusiasm." Hector smiled faintly. "I've got nothing planned. Maybe I'll join your lessons. If I feel like it."
"How lucky for you," she sighed, stretching. "Anyway, I'm spent. I'm going to bed."
"Yeah. Same."
They exchanged goodnights and parted ways.
Later, as the rain eased, Hector lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind replayed flashes of the fight — fire, shockwaves, laughter, pain.
He chuckled quietly. "Now that I've grasped the basics, I'll have to train my mind, body, and mana to match my future spells. Every reincarnated guy dreams of being overpowered…" He smirked faintly. "But that sounds like a pain."
His tone softened.
"For me to live peacefully, I have to be strong enough to protect that peace. That's a fact — even in my old world."
He turned toward the window, the twin moons reflecting faintly in his eyes.
"Nothing beats peace," he murmured, smiling tiredly. "Still… peace needs strength to survive."
Outside, thunder rolled again — distant this time, softer.
The storm had passed.
But within the House of Auren'del, the promise of power still burned.