The Middle Eastern River cut through the heart of the Rose Kingdom like a living arterial vein—wide enough that shouting across it became pointless after a dozen feet, deep enough that local legends spoke of entire buildings resting on its bottom, and unnaturally powerful in ways that suggested something more than simple hydrology.
The water glowed faintly with concentrated tan, the life-energy so dense that it became visible to normal sight, creating an ethereal luminescence that made the river look like liquid starlight flowing through the landscape. The current swirled in patterns that defied standard fluid dynamics—eddies forming and dissolving without apparent cause, vortices appearing in places where the riverbed should have been too smooth to create them, flows strong enough to pull even enhanced swimmers under in seconds if they didn't respect the water's power.
Tan-rich mist rose from the surface continuously, the evaporation carrying dissolved energy into the atmosphere, making the air along the riverbank heavy and electric, creating an environment where water-affinity gifts functioned at enhanced capacity simply through ambient saturation.
This was why the river had been chosen for the Oceanians' training ground—a location where their specialization became advantage, where the environment itself would amplify their techniques while testing their control.
The Oceanians unit stood on the rocky western bank in perfect formation, twenty members arranged in precise ranks despite the uneven terrain, their specialized uniforms shimmering in gradations of blue and white that suggested waves frozen mid-crash.
Every member possessed either water or ice manipulation gifts—the unit's recruitment had been deliberately narrow, building a force that sacrificed tactical diversity for absolute mastery within their chosen domain. Where other units covered multiple elements and approaches, the Oceanians committed completely to their aquatic specialty, becoming the kingdom's premier force for naval operations, river crossings, siege water supply management, and combat in any environment where liquid was present.
Captain Sister Luck commanded from the front position—late twenties, her ice-white hair pulled back in practical braid, skin carrying the permanent slight chill that marked ice manipulators who'd integrated their gift so thoroughly it affected their base biology. Her gift was Ice Creation and Structural Control—not just freezing water but constructing elaborate frozen architecture, creating ice with properties that defied normal crystalline behavior, making barriers that were simultaneously diamond-hard and flexible enough to absorb impact without shattering.
She'd once held a fortress gate against Level 8 Shadow Beast assault for six hours using nothing but continuously regenerating ice walls, the frozen barriers reforming faster than the creatures could break them, buying time for civilians to evacuate while never giving an inch of ground.
Beside her stood Vice Captain Merko—younger, early twenties, but matching her intensity with different methodology. His gift was Water Manipulation and Flow Control—liquid responding to his will with precision down to individual droplets, currents bending according to his intention, the ability to make water move in ways that physics insisted were impossible.
He specialized in redirection rather than creation, using opponents' own water-based attacks against them, turning their techniques into weapons that served his purposes, the aquatic equivalent of aikido where force was never opposed but simply guided elsewhere.
Together they'd developed combination techniques that made the Oceanians genuinely terrifying in their element—Sister Luck creating frozen structures that Merko then filled with pressurized water, the ice containing force that would explode outward when tactically released, turning defensive barriers into offensive weapons through collaborative application.
The rest of the unit reflected their captains' philosophies:
**Marina Frostweaver** - Ice manipulation focused on rapid formation, creating frozen weapons mid-combat, specializing in offense where Sister Luck favored defense.
**Coral Deepcurrent** - Water pressure control, generating jets powerful enough to cut steel, providing ranged assault capability.
**Tide Breakwater** - Defensive water barriers, liquid walls that absorbed kinetic energy, protecting allies while Coral attacked.
**Glacier Shardblade** - Ice weapon creation, manifesting swords and spears from frozen moisture, close combat specialist.
**River Swiftflow** - Enhanced swimming and underwater combat, could breathe water as easily as air, reconnaissance expert.
**Frost Winterborn** - Temperature manipulation, could freeze specific targets while leaving surroundings unaffected, precision control.
**Wave Crashpoint** - Large-scale water movement, creating actual waves even in still water, environmental modification.
**Ice Mirrorshard** - Reflective ice surfaces that could redirect light-based attacks, defensive specialist with unique countermeasure capability.
**Current Riptide** - Underwater vortex creation, pulling enemies down, denying them stable footing or swimming capability.
**Snow Driftmantle** - Ice particle manipulation, creating blinding snow clouds, obscuring vision while maintaining her own sight through the particles.
**Mist Veilwalker** - Water vapor control, generating concealing fog, stealth and ambush tactics.
**Hail Stormcaller** - Ice projectile generation, creating frozen ammunition that struck like bullets, ranged suppression.
**Depth Soundless** - Water-based sensory deprivation, could create zones of perfect silence and darkness within liquid, psychological warfare.
**Freeze Quickstrike** - Rapid ice formation on contact, touching targets and instantly encasing them, capture specialist.
**Flow Gracecurrent** - Water movement enhancement, making allies move faster while in contact with liquid, support role.
**Shard Razorwind** - Ice and air combination, creating frozen wind currents that cut, hybrid technique user.
**Torrent Overwhelming** - Maximum volume water generation, flooding areas, environmental saturation for other members' techniques.
**Crystal Icelight** - Luminescent ice, creating light sources that also served as barriers, utility and defense combined.
**Undertow Dragging** - Subsurface current manipulation, pulling enemies underwater without visible cause, subtle control.
**Permafrost Enduring** - Ice that resisted melting even under extreme heat, creating permanent frozen structures, long-term battlefield modification.
Twenty specialists, each one devoted to mastering every aspect of water and ice manipulation, working in combinations that made the whole vastly more effective than individual parts.
They stood now on the rocky bank, waiting for their assigned instructors, knowing that two of the twelve Heavenly Star Generals who also specialized in water and ice would either validate their years of training or reveal how inadequate their mastery actually was.
Footsteps approached along the river path—two figures walking with the casual confidence of people who'd never encountered water they couldn't control.
**Heavenly Star General Stefan Kory** arrived first—mid-forties but carrying himself with playful energy that made age irrelevant, built lean like a swimmer, wearing light blue robes that darkened to navy at the hems in gradient that suggested deliberate aesthetic choice rather than accident.
His presence created a subtle shift in the river's behavior—currents adjusting their flow patterns as he approached, water level rising fractionally, the liquid responding to proximity with something that looked like eagerness, like greeting a master who'd been away.
His gift was Water Supremacy—not just manipulation but absolute dominion, the ability to command any water within his sensory range, making oceans and rivers and even moisture in living bodies respond to his will, turning the element itself into extension of his consciousness.
He'd once stopped a naval invasion by simply making the enemy fleet's ships sink—not through combat but by commanding the water inside their hulls to rise, flooding them from within, every vessel going down simultaneously because the ocean itself had decided they didn't belong.
Beside him walked **Vice General Klay Thompson**—younger, early thirties, built broader and carrying himself with cocky confidence that suggested he'd earned the right to swagger through demonstrated capability rather than empty posturing.
His robes were ice-blue shot through with white patterns that looked like frost fractals, the design somehow both decorative and vaguely threatening, suggesting that beauty and danger weren't mutually exclusive.
His gift was Ice Mastery and Water Hybrid—the ability to shift between liquid and solid states instantly, to create ice that behaved like water and water that possessed ice's structural properties, working in the transitional space between phases where most manipulators struggled.
He specialized in combat applications—frozen weapons that melted and reformed, water barriers that suddenly became impaling ice spikes, the kind of unpredictable techniques that made opponents constantly second-guess what they were defending against.
Together they represented the absolute pinnacle of water and ice manipulation—two Generals whose gifts had developed to the point where calling them "users" seemed inadequate, whose relationship with their element transcended simple control and became something closer to conversation between equals.
Stefan Kory's grin was wide and genuine, playful energy radiating from him like sunlight reflecting off water.
"Alright, Oceanians! Welcome to the most fun training you'll ever experience, assuming you survive long enough to appreciate it. Let's see what you've already mastered before we start breaking you properly and rebuilding you into something actually elite-grade."
Klay Thompson smirked—expression mixing amusement and challenge, arms crossing over his chest.
"I'll handle the assessment test. Stefan supervises, I execute, same division of labor we've used for years. Try not to embarrass yourselves too badly—we're hoping you've got actual potential rather than just water affinity and inflated confidence."
The mock battle began without countdown or formal announcement.
Klay Thompson simply stepped off the rocky bank onto the river's surface.
The water held him like solid ground—not frozen, not creating a platform, just responding to his presence by refusing to let him sink, surface tension amplified through gift manipulation until it could support human weight effortlessly.
He raised one hand—palm forward, fingers spread—and spoke with casual authority that suggested he was making a request rather than issuing a command but knew the request would be honored regardless.
"Water Gift: Tidal Dominion."
The entire river answered.
Not just the section near him—the whole visible length, perhaps a mile of water in both directions, responding simultaneously to his call.
Waves rose like living serpents—massive columns of water that defied gravity, coiling upward in spirals that should have collapsed under their own weight but remained stable through Klay's sustained control.
Each wave was easily thirty feet tall, tons of water held in shapes that natural physics would never allow, the liquid moving with intelligence that suggested awareness rather than simple obedience to manipulation.
They crashed toward the Oceanians with crushing force, the sound like continuous thunder, spray creating rainbows in the air as sunlight refracted through millions of suspended droplets.
Captain Sister Luck reacted first—instinct and training making her response automatic despite the technique's overwhelming scale.
"Ice Gift: Glacier Wall!"
She thrust both hands forward, pouring tan into her gift without reservation, pulling moisture from air and river simultaneously.
A towering barrier of ice erupted from the riverbank—fifty feet wide, twenty feet tall, three feet thick, the frozen structure forming in less than a second, crystalline architecture that was simultaneously beautiful and functional.
The ice was diamond-hard through her enhancement, molecular bonds reinforced beyond natural limits, the barrier possessing structural integrity that should have required weeks of careful construction rather than instant manifestation.
The tidal waves slammed into the glacier wall with apocalyptic force.
The impact produced a sound like buildings collapsing, tons of water meeting tons of ice, kinetic energy seeking somewhere to go when irresistible force met immovable object.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the ice instantly—hairline fractures spreading from impact points, the structural stress exceeding even Sister Luck's enhanced construction, physics asserting that no barrier could completely withstand that much momentum.
But the wall held.
Barely.
Vice Captain Merko moved while the barrier was still absorbing impact, reading the tactical situation and identifying the counter-strategy in the heartbeat between action and consequence.
"Water Gift: Current Reversal!"
He thrust both hands forward—not toward Klay but toward the water itself, his gift reaching out to the liquid still approaching, still carrying forward momentum from the Tidal Dominion technique.
He grabbed the current conceptually and simply flipped it.
Not stopping the water's movement but reversing its direction, turning the attack back on itself, making the waves that were crashing against Sister Luck's ice wall suddenly reverse course and crash back toward their point of origin.
The collision was explosive—forward momentum meeting backward momentum, water slamming into water with force that sent spray erupting fifty feet into the air, the river itself becoming chaotic as two contradictory commands fought for dominance over the same liquid.
Sister Luck's ice wall shattered in the pressure release—the barrier having served its purpose, buying time for Merko's counter, sacrificing itself to protect the unit while the vice captain's technique took effect.
Ice shards and water spray created a storm of frozen projectiles and blinding mist, obscuring vision across the entire engagement zone.
Klay Thompson laughed through the chaos—genuinely amused rather than mocking, appreciating competent opposition.
"Not bad! Solid defensive coordination, proper role division, the captains working together instead of trying to handle everything individually. That's better than half the units we've tested. But let me show you the difference between good tactics and overwhelming capability."
He snapped his fingers—casual gesture, the motion minimal but the effect massive.
"Water Gift: Abyss Pull."
The riverbed beneath Sister Luck's shattered ice wall simply opened.
Not gradually or with warning—reality edited itself, the solid ground that had been providing foundation suddenly ceasing to exist, replaced by a massive whirlpool that formed from nothing, a vortex that extended down into depths that shouldn't exist in a river this shallow.
The entire collapsed ice barrier was sucked downward into the depths—thousands of pounds of frozen water disappearing into the spiral, pulled below the surface and dispersed, Sister Luck's defensive construct eliminated not through destruction but through removal.
Both captains were pulled forward involuntarily—their footing compromised as the ground literally dropped out from beneath them, the vortex's suction reaching beyond its visible perimeter, affecting everything within twenty feet of its edge.
Sister Luck manifested ice beneath her feet to create new platform, but the frozen surface was immediately pulled into the whirlpool, consumed before it could provide stable footing.
Merko tried redirecting the vortex's flow, his gift reaching for the spinning water, attempting to impose his will over Klay's control.
The water ignored him.
Not fought back—just ignored, responded to the Vice General's command with absolute priority, Merko's manipulation failing not because he was weak but because Klay's authority over the element was simply superior, his gift operating at a tier that made opposition futile.
Klay Thompson walked across the water's surface toward the struggling captains—still smirking, completely relaxed despite active combat, moving with the ease of someone taking a casual stroll rather than engaging opponents.
"Too slow. Too predictable. You're thinking like water users instead of thinking like water itself. That's your fundamental limitation."
He flicked his wrist—minimal motion producing maximum effect.
A single razor-sharp water blade shot forward—pressure so intense it had become cutting edge, the technique no larger than a sword but moving faster than arrows, aimed directly at both captains simultaneously through an angle that shouldn't allow hitting two targets with one projectile.
Sister Luck reacted on pure instinct, her ice manipulation faster than conscious thought.
She froze the water blade mid-flight with a burst of cold that dropped temperature fifty degrees in a sphere around the technique, molecular motion ceasing, the liquid attack becoming solid ice before it could strike.
Merko followed up immediately—perfect coordination with his captain despite no verbal communication.
He manifested a pressurized water jet and fired it at the frozen blade, the impact shattering the ice into harmless fragments that scattered across the river's surface.
The two captains stood side by side—breathing hard from the sustained effort, soaked from spray, footing unstable as they fought to remain upright near the vortex's edge.
But unbroken.
Still standing. Still fighting. Still coordinating despite overwhelming disadvantage.
Klay Thompson raised an eyebrow—genuine surprise mixed with approval.
"Impressive. You two actually held your own against techniques that should have eliminated you instantly. The defensive-offensive synergy is solid—ice user provides barriers and counter-techniques while water user handles redirection and flow manipulation. That's legitimate tactical thinking."
Stefan Kory clapped once from his observation position on the bank—playful grin widening to something that approached pride.
"See, Klay? I told you they had potential! This unit isn't just collecting water-affinity members and hoping for the best. They've actually developed coherent combat philosophy and trained it to instinctual level. That's rare."
He stepped forward, his presence making the river calm slightly—vortex slowing, waves settling, the water responding to his proximity by becoming more peaceful.
"Alright, enough demonstration. Klay's shown you the gap between your current capability and elite-grade performance. Now let me explain how we're going to close that gap, or at least narrow it enough that you might survive what's coming."
The Oceanians unit gathered closer, relief that the test had ended mixing with anticipation for what training would actually entail.
Stefan's voice turned serious for the first time—playful energy receding, replaced by focus that suggested the friendly demeanor was choice rather than limitation.
"You're all water and ice users. That's your greatest strength—absolute specialization means you can achieve mastery that generalist units can't match. But it's also your most critical limitation—you're completely dependent on your element being present, you struggle in environments where water is scarce, you lack versatility when opponents counter your techniques."
He gestured toward the river.
"We're going to push you past those limitations. Every day, no mercy, no breaks until you can control water at scales that make current capability look like children playing in puddles. By the end of this year, you won't just use water and ice—you'll embody them, you'll think like them, you'll become the element instead of just manipulating it."
Klay Thompson's smirk returned.
"And I'm the one who's going to make sure you don't die trying. Stefan teaches philosophy and advanced techniques. I handle practical application and preventing training casualties. Between us, you'll either achieve elite-grade mastery or discover you weren't cut out for this level of operation."
Sister Luck nodded—calm and respectful despite her exhaustion.
"We understand the stakes. We've seen the Star Vision's prophecy. We know what's coming requires capability beyond our current level. We're prepared to train past breaking points."
Merko added quietly, his voice carrying determination despite fatigue:
"We're ready. Whatever it takes."
Stefan Kory's grin returned—playful energy flooding back now that the serious moment had passed.
"Good! Because by the end of this year, you won't just be using the river for techniques. You'll BE the river—flowing, adapting, overwhelming obstacles through persistence and power combined. Water is patient and unstoppable. You're going to learn what that actually means."
The training began immediately without rest period or recovery time.
Klay Thompson summoned massive waves—forcing the entire unit to fight against currents while maintaining formation, testing their ability to coordinate under pressure that actively tried to separate them.
Sister Luck and Merko led the defense—ice walls and water reversals working in perfect synchronization, their practiced coordination allowing them to handle threats that would have overwhelmed either captain individually.
Marina Frostweaver created ice spears mid-current, the frozen projectiles forming despite turbulent water trying to disperse her concentration.
Coral Deepcurrent fired pressurized water jets that cut through Klay's waves, creating temporary gaps in the assault that other members exploited.
Tide Breakwater manifested barriers that absorbed the worst impacts, protecting slower members while they prepared counter-techniques.
The rest of the Oceanians pushed themselves—some creating frozen platforms to provide stable footing, others generating their own currents to counteract Klay's manipulation, all of them adapting under relentless pressure that never decreased, never provided breathing room.
Stefan Kory watched from the bank—
laughing every time someone got swept underwater but always ready to pull them out with casual wave manipulation before they actually drowned, the safety net invisible but reliable.
By the end of the first four-hour session, everyone was soaked, exhausted, and
breathing hard.
But their eyes burned brighter than before.
They'd survived. They'd learned. They'd begun understanding what their instructors meant about thinking like water instead of just using it
.
Stefan clapped—sound carrying across the river.
"Not bad for day one! Tomorrow we go harder. And the day after that, even harder. And we keep escalating until you either achieve mastery or break completely. No middle ground."
Klay Thompson smirked—cocky confidence never wavering.
"Try not to drown overnight. We need you alive for tomorrow's suffering."
The Oceanians stood taller despite exhaustion.
Sister Luck and Merko exchanged glances—silent communication, shared understanding that this year would redefine everything they thought they knew about their gifts.
They were ready.
Ready to break.
Ready to rebuild.
Ready to become something that could face the Vision's prophecy and survive.
The river flowed on, indifferent to human ambition.
But for one year, it would serve as classroom.
And the Oceanians would learn.
End of Chapter 36