imperial stood facing Master Kaien, sword in hand, a quiet moment of reflection overtook him.
The wind stirred the trees around them, rustling the leaves in a hush that mirrored the stillness in his heart. He thought back to when they first met—how awkward he'd been, how clumsy his footwork was, barely able to hold his sword without tripping over his own feet. And yet, Kaien had believed in him from the start—even when Imperial couldn't summon more than a spark of lightning from trembling fingers.
He remembered the ridiculous training exercises Kaien had put him through: being dangled upside down from a tree during a thunderstorm to "bond with the lightning," sparring blindfolded for hours, tumbling through muddy fields, and balancing on bamboo poles swaying over a frozen stream.
There was the time Imperial nearly set Kaien's hair on fire, the sparks from his unstable spell hissing dangerously close. Or when he'd shattered Kaien's prized flower pot—a gift from a long-forgotten noble house—sending ceramic shards and soil flying across the courtyard. That had earned him a furious chase through the estate, Kaien bellowing curses in four ancient tongues, half of which Imperial still didn't understand.
A smile tugged at Imperial's lips at the memory. "Those were good days," he thought. For a fleeting moment, his heart felt light.
But that lapse in focus cost him.
Without warning, Kaien moved—his figure blurring like a phantom. The wind howled suddenly, as if displaced by the sheer speed of his motion.
Imperial's instincts screamed. His body reacted before his mind could. With a snap of thunder, he vanished in a flash of lightning—his Lightning Step saving him by the breadth of a hair. The ground where he'd stood exploded in a burst of splinters as Kaien's blade slashed through empty air.
Kaien's voice rang out, sharp and clear over the ringing silence that followed.
"First lesson, Imperial—never drop your guard. Not even for a heartbeat."
Imperial grinned, letting the adrenaline course through him. Sparks arced across his skin. He thrust his hand out, lightning gathering at his fingertips. His blade crackled with energy as he slashed forward, sending a radiant bolt hurtling through the air.
Kaien met it without flinching, raising his sword in a fluid, practiced motion. His counterstrike was like a dancer's step—elegant, deadly. The two spells collided midair.
A deafening crack split the sky.
The shockwave flattened the grass in a wide circle around them. Birds screamed and scattered from the trees. Branches creaked and snapped. The very air seemed to ripple from the force, filled with the metallic tang of ozone and the heady charge of raw magic.
They clashed again—sword against sword, lightning against will. Sparks flew with every contact, scattering like fireflies caught in a storm.
Kaien's eyes narrowed as he locked blades with Imperial. For a brief heartbeat, he saw something new—something fierce—burning behind his student's eyes.
"That hunger… that fire," he thought. "He's not a boy anymore. He's becoming a warrior."
Their blades parted with a loud crack, and both fighters slid backward through the churned-up soil, panting.
The silence between them now was thick with tension—charged and expectant, like the air before a storm.
Kaien raised his blade, his stance solid as stone. His aura flared—a deep purple shimmer crackling along the edge of his weapon, calm and focused.
"Let's end this with one final move."
Imperial nodded, lightning surging up his arms, illuminating the veins beneath his skin like glowing rivers. His blade sang as energy gathered in its core. The wind whipped around him, flaring his cloak like a banner of stormclouds. The scent of scorched earth mingled with pine and rain.
"Alright, Master," he said, the words crackling like thunder. "I'm ready."
And then, without another word, they charged.
The world collapsed into that single moment—one heartbeat, one breath.
When their swords met, the explosion tore through the clearing like a thunderclap straight from the gods. Blinding light burst outward, forcing even the birds in the distance to flee in frenzied spirals. The ground cracked open beneath their feet, a jagged crater spreading like a wound in the earth.
A torrent of energy exploded upward, slashing the sky open with streaks of violet and blue lightning. Trees groaned and bent, their leaves scorched. A wave of concussive force rippled outward, snapping trunks in two, flinging debris in every direction.
The roar of magic faded into silence.
When the dust settled, only two figures remained—one standing, the other collapsed.
Imperial was still on his feet… barely. His breathing was ragged, his limbs trembling. The brilliant aura around him flickered like a candle in the wind. His sword slipped from numb fingers, clattering to the broken ground.
And then—he collapsed.
Kaien approached slowly, his boots crunching over charred earth and fallen branches. His gaze swept across the ruined training ground—the scorched grass, the crater, the aftermath of power unrestrained. A faint smile touched his lips.
He knelt beside his unconscious student and, with surprising gentleness, lifted Imperial onto his back.
"Heh… some things never change," Kaien murmured. "First time we met, you passed out too. And just like now, I carried you home."
He turned his eyes skyward. The clouds had parted, revealing stars glittering in the distance—silent witnesses to the storm.
"You've grown, Imperial. More than you know."
---
Back at the Alden Estate
A firm knock echoed at the front door. Lyra appeared just behind Ari as the younger girl opened it—and gasped.
"Uncle Kaien! What happened to him?"
"He's alright," Kaien said calmly, shifting Imperial on his back. "Just exhausted. He gave everything during our fight. Let's get him to bed. Tomorrow is a big day."
Together, they tucked Imperial into his room. His face was peaceful in sleep, though faint sparks still crackled faintly from his fingertips.
Kaien settled at the dinner table with Ari while Lyra finished serving.
The room filled with the smell of roasted meat and herbs. The warmth of the hearth, the clinking of dishes—it was a world away from the battlefield.
Kaien glanced around and frowned slightly.
"I don't see young Master Kai. Off training for the tournament?"
Lyra's smile faltered.
"No. He's been on missions almost nonstop. He only comes home every few months… and even then, not for long."
Kaien nodded slowly. "That's valuable experience. I've heard the Council placed him and Zeran straight into the quarterfinals for their service."
"Yes," she said quietly. "They've earned that."
He turned to Ari, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"And you, Ari? Will you be competing?"
She waved her hands quickly. "Oh—no, Uncle Kaien. Tournaments aren't really my thing."
Kaien chuckled. "That's fine. Still, your potential shouldn't be underestimated."
Lyra blinked. "Her potential?"
Kaien gave a knowing smile. "Ari is blessed with Light Magic, Lady Lyra. And she's an exceptional swordswoman."
Lyra's eyes widened. "Swordsmanship? Really?"
Ari looked down, cheeks flushed.
Kaien's tone turned serious. "She hides it well. But she's far more capable than she lets on. And with her rare magic… there are always those who would seek to exploit it."
Lyra reached out, squeezing Ari's hand.
"You don't have to hide anything here. You're part of our family. Never forget that."
---
Meanwhile, In the Shadows…
Far away, in a chamber lit only by flickering candlelight, cloaked figures circled a stone table carved with ancient runes.
"It's almost time," one whispered.
Another leaned forward, voice low and slick. "Tomorrow, he arrives. We do what must be done."
A third figure, voice sharp and cruel:
"Don't worry. We'll get the answers we need… even if we have to tear them from his flesh."
The flames guttered. Shadows writhed on the walls like hungry beasts.
The storm had passed—but the real chaos was only just beginning.
The countdown had begun.