Rei Tsukihara – POV
The wind at Aether Academy never howled.
It whispered.
Soft. Measured. Controlled.
Just like this place.
I stood at the edge of the western observation cliff — the highest natural elevation within the Academy's territory. Below me, the reinforced combat plains stretched into the horizon, layered with barrier arrays, suppression sigils, and containment fields capable of withstanding S-class destructive output.
They were glowing now.
Faintly.
Which meant someone was pushing the limits.
My coat fluttered behind me, embers flickering along its hem before dissolving into harmless sparks. I didn't suppress them.
No need.
The sky above was unnaturally still — a dome of pressure building from within the training field.
So it's him.
Bolt.
Leader of Celestial Tempest.
The boy who killed a Warborn.
The boy who defeated Kairos — the Abyssal Warborn — alone.
The boy whose name now traveled through Aether Academy like wildfire.
The First Impression
When I first heard about Celestial Tempest's arrival, I dismissed it.
Transfers from unnamed academies were common. Most arrived with inflated reputations and collapsed under Aether's standards.
Then I heard the details.
Warborn.
God-level classification.
Survival against annihilation-tier output.
That got my attention.
But what truly unsettled me was something else.
The aura.
I felt it the moment he stepped onto campus yesterday.
A pressure so refined it didn't leak.
So controlled it felt dormant.
But dormant volcanoes are the most dangerous.
Below me, the suppression barrier flared violently.
The ground inside the training field exploded upward as a pillar of compressed air detonated.
At the epicenter—
Bolt stood.
Still.
Unmoving.
A ring of carved stone radiated outward from him, like reality itself had recoiled.
He wasn't trying.
That was obvious.
He was testing.
Across from him stood three senior enforcers — high-ranking students assigned to pressure-test transfer elites. All A-class. All veterans of subjugation missions.
All struggling.
One lunged.
Flame-imbued spear thrusting forward.
Bolt didn't dodge.
Lightning flickered across his skin — not wild, not explosive.
Precise.
The spear disintegrated mid-thrust.
Not melted.
Disintegrated.
The user staggered back, eyes wide.
Bolt stepped forward once.
The air screamed.
He vanished.
Reappeared behind them.
A single pulse of pressure erupted outward.
The barrier trembled.
All three collapsed.
Unconscious.
Silence returned to the field.
Raiketsu
Then I saw it.
The blade.
He drew it slowly — almost casually.
Raiketsu.
That's what a first-year from his previous Academy called it.
Said it wasn't forged.
Said it wasn't crafted.
Said it manifested.
The sword shimmered — lightning condensed into physical structure, edged with something deeper than elemental energy.
There was weight to it.
Authority.
It wasn't a weapon reacting to its wielder.
It obeyed him.
No.
It chose him.
The air around the blade distorted as if resisting proximity.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
I exhaled slowly.
Heat rippled outward from my body, melting the frost that had formed along the cliff's stone railing.
I am Rei Tsukihara.
They call me Flame God.
Not because I asked for it.
Because I earned it.
No one at Aether has matched my output.
No one has survived a direct clash with me without consequence.
And yet—
Watching him…
I wasn't certain.
If we fought…
The damage wouldn't be contained.
The Academy might not survive intact.
And that thought didn't frighten me.
It excited me.
The Meeting
Earlier today, the Student Body President had called an emergency assembly.
Closed-door.
High clearance.
Only the top ten were invited.
I attended out of obligation.
The President leaned forward over the circular obsidian table.
"Rei. You felt it too, didn't you?"
I didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
Several others nodded grimly.
That pressure.
That arrival.
The President continued.
"We've received confidential reports. The one called Bolt fought the Abyssal Warborn alone."
Murmurs.
Disbelief.
I stayed silent.
I had already investigated.
Pulled mission logs.
Cross-referenced witnesses.
Analyzed residual mana signatures.
There were no inconsistencies.
He fought alone.
He won.
And he didn't lose control.
That's the terrifying part.
Power I understand.
Control over overwhelming power?
That's rare.
The President's voice lowered.
"If Celestial Tempest destabilizes the internal hierarchy, we intervene."
Intervene.
Meaning challenge.
Meaning confrontation.
Meaning I would be deployed.
I simply nodded.
But internally—
I wasn't convinced.
Present
Bolt sheathed Raiketsu.
The blade dissolved into arcs of light and vanished into him.
Clean.
Efficient.
He turned away from the field, brushing dust from his uniform as if he had just finished a warm-up.
No arrogance.
No smug expression.
Just composure.
That unsettles me more than pride ever could.
He doesn't crave attention.
He doesn't posture.
He doesn't display dominance.
He simply exists at that level.
And that…
Is dangerous.
The wind shifted.
I sensed it then.
Eyes on me.
Sharp.
Focused.
Bolt looked up.
Directly at the cliff.
At me.
Our gazes locked.
The distance between us was vast.
But the pressure?
Immediate.
His eyes didn't flare with lightning.
They didn't glow.
They were calm.
Assessing.
As if measuring me the same way I was measuring him.
A slow grin tugged at my lips.
Good.
He senses it too.
The possibility.
The collision.
But then—
Something else surfaced in my thoughts.
The message.
Encrypted.
Delivered three nights ago.
From people I have never seen — but whose influence runs deep in the shadows of this world.
A simple directive.
Observe the Warborn.
If confirmed as destabilizing—
Eliminate.
They didn't say his name.
But I knew.
They meant Bolt.
They always mean the strongest variable.
The unpredictable factor.
And that's what he is.
Unpredictable.
I was supposed to test him.
Gauge weaknesses.
Report.
Possibly execute.
Below, Bolt extended a hand.
Lightning gathered — not violently — but elegantly.
A controlled sphere of condensed electricity hovered above his palm.
He compressed it further.
And further.
Until it became a needle of light.
Then—
He flicked it into the sky.
The clouds above split in silence.
Not thunder.
Not explosion.
Just separation.
Clean division across the heavens.
The sky healed seconds later.
No residual chaos.
No mana overflow.
Absolute precision.
My smile widened.
Is this the guy those bastards want me to kill?
My flames intensified unconsciously, swirling around me in controlled spirals.
The thought felt absurd.
Kill him?
For what?
Because he's strong?
Because he survived something labeled God-level?
Because unseen authorities fear imbalance?
Pathetic.
Strength should be tested.
Not erased.
If anything—
I'd rather stand beside him.
Rather see how far that storm can go.
Rather witness what happens when fire and lightning collide — not as enemies…
But as forces rewriting the world.
A quiet laugh escaped me.
So that's it.
Decision made.
I won't be their blade.
I'll choose my own battlefield.
Below, Bolt turned away from the field and began walking back toward the main complex.
Unaware of the directive.
Unaware of the shadows circling him.
Unaware of the choice I just made.
Or perhaps…
He knows.
And simply doesn't care.
My flames dimmed.
I stepped back from the cliff's edge.
Eyes still locked on his retreating figure.
A slow, dangerous smile formed fully on my face.
"I'd rather join him."
"But first I must test him further..."
The wind carried the words into the sky.
And somewhere deep within Aether Academy—
Something shifted.