The flames closed in.
Kaelen stood at the center of an inferno, walls of fire rising on all sides, the temperature was so intense the air itself seemed to burn. His shields were cracking, his aether reserves were at critical levels.
[A.E:33/425]
Not enough. Not nearly enough to maintain defenses against this.
Matthias's voice echoed through the flames, distorted by heat waves. "It's over, Burn! Yield!"
Kaelen's hand moved to the Aether Chain on his wrist.
No choice.
He activated it.
[Aether Chain: 100/100 A.E. –> Transfer Initiated]
[A.E.: 33/425 –> 133/425]
One hundred additional aether flooded his system—sharp, electric, immediate.
Kaelen poured everything into [Aether Manipulation]
[–70 A.E]
Not a simple shield. Not a barrier. A fortress.
The construct materialized around him—layered, dense, reinforced at every angle. Multiple shells of compressed aether, each one absorbing heat and impact before the next layer engaged. The innermost layer was barely two meters in diameter, just enough space for Kaelen to stand.
The Inferno Dominion slammed into it.
ROOOOOAR
Fire consumed everything. The outer layers of Kaelen's construct began to melt, aether vaporizing under the relentless heat. But the inner layers held.
Barely.
Kaelen gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face. The temperature inside the construct was still unbearable. His skin felt like it was burning even through the protection.
[–105HP]
[HP: 230/375]
The flames raged for what felt like eternity.
Then, finally, they began to recede.
Matthias couldn't sustain Inferno Dominion indefinitely. Even with Ember's Bond enhancing his output, the skill was draining him.
The fire walls collapsed. The sea of flames retreated.
Kaelen's construct dissipated, its purpose fulfilled.
He stood in the center of the scorched arena floor, his uniform charred and smoking. Burns covered his arms and face. His breathing was ragged, every inhale painful.
But he was standing.
[A.E.: 33/425]
Across from him, Matthias was breathing hard, his aether reserves clearly depleted. His face was flushed from exertion, sweat dripping down his temples.
They stared at each other across the devastated arena.
"You..." Matthias gasped. "You survived that?"
Kaelen didn't respond. He was conserving energy, letting his passive regeneration work.
Matthias straightened slowly, his expression shifting from shock to determination. "Fine. If that won't finish you..."
He raised his hands one more time.
But no projectiles formed. No flames launched.
Instead, fire wrapped around Matthias's own body—not as a shroud, not as defense, but as enhancement. The flames coated his arms, his legs, his torso, burning without consuming him.
[Crimson Infusion]
His muscles visibly reinforced, aether and fire merging to amplify his physical capabilities. His eyes glowed orange-red.
"No more aether for distance attacks," Matthias said, his voice steady despite his exhaustion. "But I don't need it. I'll end this with my hands."
Kaelen's jaw tightened.
No aether left for skills. Not enough for Spatial Lance, not enough for sustained shields, barely enough for two more Flash Step if he needed it.
Fine.
If Matthias wanted close combat, Kaelen would give it to him.
Matthias charged.
His speed was enhanced by the fire infusion, faster than before. He closed the distance in seconds and swung a burning fist toward Kaelen's face.
Kaelen activated [Chrono-Perception], the world slowing fractionally. He saw the punch coming, read Matthias's weight distribution.
He sidestepped.
Matthias's fist passed inches from his face. Kaelen countered with a strike to Matthias's ribs—no aether coating, just technique and leverage.
THUD
The impact connected. Matthias grunted, but the fire infusion absorbed most of the force.
Matthias spun, his elbow swinging toward Kaelen's temple.
Kaelen ducked, then drove his knee into Matthias's midsection.
CRACK
Better. The fire infusion had limits—it enhanced, but it didn't make Matthias invulnerable.
They separated briefly, circling.
Kaelen's bones throbbed. His body was exhausted. But Sera's training kicked in—footwork, center of gravity, efficient movement. He didn't need aether to fight. Not if he was smarter.
Matthias attacked again, a flurry of fire-enhanced strikes. Fast. Aggressive. Powerful.
But predictable.
Kaelen blocked the first punch, deflected the second, slipped inside the third and struck Matthias's jaw with a rising palm.
CRACK
Matthias's head snapped back. He staggered.
Something in Kaelen's chest tightened. Anger. Not at Matthias specifically—at everything. The insults toward Daniel and Lira. The arrogance. The assumption that power and family name meant superiority.
Kaelen pressed forward.
He struck again. And again.
Matthias tried to defend, but the fire infusion was fading, his aether finally depleted. His blocks became sluggish.
Kaelen didn't stop.
A strike to the ribs. A knee to the midsection. An elbow to the shoulder.
Matthias stumbled backward, gasping.
"Yield," Kaelen said coldly.
"Never," Matthias spat, blood on his lips.
Fine.
Kaelen struck again. Harder.
Matthias's guard broke. Kaelen's fist connected with his face.
CRACK
Matthias hit the ground.
Kaelen followed him down, his vision narrowing. He grabbed Matthias's collar and struck again. And again.
The crowd's roar became distant. All Kaelen could hear was his own breathing, his own heartbeat.
Matthias tried to raise his hands defensively, but Kaelen batted them aside and struck once more.
"Kaelen!" A voice—distant, muffled. "Stop!"
He didn't stop.
Another punch. Matthias's head turned to the side.
"ENOUGH!"
Hands grabbed Kaelen's shoulders—strong, unyielding. Instructor Jay pulled him back with force, physically separating them.
"It's over!" Jay shouted. "The match is over!"
Kaelen struggled for a heartbeat, then stopped, reality crashing back in.
He was breathing hard, his fists bloodied. Matthias lay on the ground, barely conscious, his face bruised and bleeding.
The arena was silent.
Jay stepped between them, his voice amplified across the dome. "Victory by referee stoppage: Kaelen Burn!"
The crowd erupted—not in cheers, but in shocked exclamation. Fear. Awe. Disbelief.
Kaelen stood there, swaying slightly, his body finally registering its injuries.
[HP: 230/375]
[A.E.: 33/425]
His wristband chimed.
[Victory]
[RP Earned: +150]*
[Current RP: 1,487]
[Weekly Quest Complete: Novice Trials]
[Requirements]
- Complete 7 Daily Quests consecutively (5/7)
- Attend all scheduled classes (5/5 days)
- Win 1 sanctioned sparring match (complete)
- Allocate at least 5 Stat Points (Complete)
The notifications blurred together. Kaelen barely processed them.
Medical staff rushed onto the arena floor, surrounding Matthias. One approached Kaelen cautiously, but he waved them off.
"I'm fine," he said hoarsely.
He wasn't fine. His body was scorched, his uniform was in tatters, his hands shaking from adrenaline crash. But he could walk.
He turned toward the exit.
The crowd parted, silent now. Students stared at him with something between respect and fear.
In the stands, Daniel looked pale. Lira's expression was complicated—relief mixed with concern. Torven's amber eyes were unreadable.
Sera watched him leave, her crystalline gaze sharp.
Kaelen walked out of the arena without looking back.
...
Evening - Pyrell Estate, Veyra Enclave
The Pyrell family estate sprawled across the upper district of Veyra Enclave, its architecture dominated by flame designs, sculpted braziers that burned eternally, stained glass windows depicting fire in abstract patterns, walls of polished obsidian that reflected flickering light.
In the central study, three figures sat in high-backed chairs arranged around a holographic display.
Lord Cassian Pyrell, Matthias's father who was currently acting has the head of the family since the patriarch, his father is out currently. He was a man who looked to be in his late forties with the same crimson hair as his grandson, though streaked with silver at the temples. His amber eyes were sharp, calculating. He wore formal attire marked with the family crest—a phoenix wreathed in flames.
Beside him sat Lady Erin Pyrell, elegant and composed, her dark hair pulled back severely. Her expression was neutral, but her fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest.
The third figure was younger—Matthias's older brother, Aldren Pyrell, a fifth-year student at the academy and an Elite-rank combatant. His crimson hair was longer than Matthias's, tied back, and his expression was one of barely concealed irritation.
The holographic display showed footage from the duel—Kaelen's final strikes, Matthias collapsing, Instructor Jay pulling Kaelen away.
Lord Cassian replayed the final sequence three times.
"Explain," he said quietly.
Aldren leaned forward. "Matthias challenged a first-year named Kaelen Burn. Novice rank. The boy accepted. They fought in Combat Dome 5 this afternoon."
"I can see that," Cassian replied, his tone cold. "I'm asking how this happened."
"Matthias used Crimson Tyrant at full capacity," Aldren continued. "Multiple techniques, including Inferno Dominion. The boy survived everything and countered effectively." He paused. "Then, when both ran out of aether, Matthias engaged in close combat. He lost."
Lady Elara spoke for the first time, her voice measured. "The reports say this Kaelen Burn is an S-rank Unique. A Chrononaut. Time and space manipulation."
"S-rank." Cassian's fingers steepled. "That explains the survival. But it doesn't explain..." He gestured toward the frozen image on screen—Kaelen striking Matthias repeatedly, his expression cold and focused. "This."
"Brutality," Aldren said bluntly. "The boy didn't stop when Matthias was clearly defeated. The instructor had to physically intervene."
Silence filled the study.
Cassian replayed the footage once more, watching Kaelen's movements with analytical precision. "Who is this boy? Background?"
Aldren pulled up a secondary display. "Kaelen Burn. First-year. Former Null. Awakened approximately four months ago. Mother: Elara Burn, no significant family connections. Scholarship student. Bronze badge earned three days after recovering from his previous duel."
"Previous duel?" Lady Elara's eyebrow rose.
"He fought Jax Hanlay two weeks ago. Third-year Sentinel. Forced Jax to manifest his Aether Domain. Won by disqualification when Jax used prohibited techniques."
Cassian's expression didn't change, but his eyes sharpened. "A first-year forced a Domain manifestation?"
"Yes."
"And today he defeated Matthias, who has been training with Crimson Tyrant since childhood."
"Yes."
Another silence.
Lady Elara spoke carefully. "This boy... is dangerous."
"Or useful," Cassian replied. He closed the holographic display. "Aldren. Arrange a visit."
"To the academy?"
"Next week. Tuesday." Cassian stood, his presence commanding the room. "I want to meet this Kaelen Burn personally. If he's as capable as this footage suggests, we should understand what drives him. And whether he can be... influenced."
Aldren nodded. "I'll send a proxy first. Assess his character, intentions, connections."
"No." Cassian's voice was firm. "I will go. This requires direct evaluation."
Lady Elara's eyes widened fractionally. "Cassian, you haven't visited the academy personally in years."
"Then it's overdue." He walked toward the window, looking out over the Enclave's glittering lights. "A boy who defeats my son so decisively is either a threat to be eliminated or an asset to be acquired. I intend to determine which."
He turned back to them. "Inform the academy administration. Lord Cassian Pyrell will visit next Tuesday to meet with Kaelen Burn. Privately."
Aldren and Elara exchanged glances but didn't argue.
"And Matthias?" Lady Elara asked quietly.
"Will recover," Cassian said coldly. "And will learn from this. Humiliation is a more effective teacher than victory." He looked at the frozen image of Kaelen one more time. "This boy didn't just beat him. He dominated him. Broke him. That level of conviction..." Cassian's expression was unreadable. "That interests me far more than another victory."
He left the study, his footsteps echoing through the stone corridors.
Aldren deactivated the display and stood. "This is going to be complicated."
Lady Elara remained seated, her gaze distant. "That boy's eyes," she murmured. "When he was striking Matthias. There was no hesitation. No doubt." She looked at her eldest son. "Be careful, Aldren. People who fight like that... they're not motivated by ambition or pride."
"Then what motivates them?"
"Survival," she said quietly. "And people fighting for survival are the most dangerous opponents of all."
...
Medical Bay - Evening, 8:00 PM
Kaelen lay on a medical bed, his body wrapped in regenerative bandages that glowed faintly with healing aether. The burns were extensive but manageable. Nothing permanent. The medics had assured him he'd be fully healed in two days.
His friends had visited briefly—Daniel stammering something about statistics, Lira punching his shoulder lightly and telling him he was an idiot, Torven simply nodding with quiet respect.
Sera had come last.
She'd stood at the foot of his bed, her expression unreadable.
"You won," she'd said.
"Yeah."
"You also terrified half the academy."
Kaelen had looked away. "He wouldn't yield."
"So you beat him unconscious." Sera's tone was neutral. "That's not strategy. That's rage."
"Maybe."
She'd studied him for a long moment. "Just make sure you know the difference. Rage can win fights. But it can also destroy you."
Then she'd left.
Now, alone in the quiet medical bay, Kaelen stared at the ceiling.
His wristband chimed softly.
[RP: 1,487]
He'd won. Gained RP.
But Sera's words lingered.
"Rage can win fights. But it can also destroy you."
Kaelen closed his eyes.
He'd deal with it later. Right now, he just needed rest.
Somewhere in the upper districts of Veyra Enclave, Lord Cassian Pyrell was planning a visit.
But Kaelen didn't know that yet.
For now, he slept.