Ralph knelt beside King Magnus I in the grand hall of the castle, their heads bowed in solemn prayer. Before them stood the statue of Lesi, a towering figure, faceless and bearded, the god whom all races and cultures revered. The stone effigy loomed over them, its carved face radiating strength and compassion. Lesi, the creator of the world, had formed Palstrom with his own body, giving life to the lands and its people. Ralph felt the weight of the moment, his hands clasped tightly in a mimic of the King's posture.
Magnus's deep voice echoed through the hall as he prayed, his words filled with conviction. "Great Lesi, protector of our lands, we humbly seek your strength. As we prepare for the battles to come, guide our hands and give us courage. Defend Magnesia, our home, and grant us the power to preserve it from our enemies."
Despite the many cultures and kingdoms across Palstrom, one truth connected them all: their belief in Lesi. From the golden deserts of Arabie to the icy shores of Fiter, Lesi's name was spoken with reverence. Legends told of how he had formed the world and battled his brother, Thensei, the god of destruction. In the end, Lesi had banished Thensei to the farthest reaches of the void, saving the world but losing much of his power in the process. Since then, all peoples had prayed to Lesi for guidance, protection, and strength.
Ralph slowly opened his eyes, glancing up at King Magnus. Even in prayer, the King radiated power. Ralph could feel the King's dedication to Magnesia, the kingdom he ruled and loved, flowing through him like an unshakable force.
Their prayers finished, King Magnus rose to his feet and gestured for Ralph to do the same. "Come," Magnus said, his voice calm yet firm. "We've paid our respects. Now, it's time for your training."
They made their way to the sparring grounds, where the midday sun cast harsh light across the stone walls. Ralph's muscles tensed in anticipation. His training had been unrelenting, and today would be no different.
"Let's see what you've learned," Magnus said with a slight smile, his sword in hand.
They circled each other, Ralph gripping his wooden training sword tightly. His eyes were fixed on the King, who moved with the grace of a seasoned warrior. Magnus's sword hung loosely at his side, but Ralph knew it would strike with lightning speed. Determined to prove himself, Ralph charged first, his strikes fierce and aggressive. He swung with all his strength, aiming for the King's side, but Magnus blocked with ease, his movements precise and controlled.
Ralph gritted his teeth and pushed harder, attacking with increased speed. But no matter how fast he moved, Magnus was faster, parrying every blow with near-effortless skill. Sweat dripped down Ralph's face as his frustration grew. He knew he was outmatched, but something inside him burned—a desire to show he was more than just a street urchin who had been taken in by the King.
With a growl, Ralph launched another assault, swinging harder and faster. Magnus deflected the blows and, with a simple twist of his wrist, disarmed Ralph, sending the wooden sword spinning from his grip. Before Ralph could react, Magnus swept his legs out from under him, and Ralph crashed to the ground, gasping for breath.
As Ralph lay there, staring up at the sky, something shifted within him. He felt a pulse of energy, a strange, unfamiliar force rising through his body. His muscles tightened, his senses sharpened, and strength surged through him like never before.
Without thinking, Ralph reached for the power. He scrambled to his feet, his body moving faster than it ever had. With renewed determination, he lunged at Magnus again, his sword glowing faintly as wind seemed to whip around the blade.
Magnus's eyes widened for a moment, surprised by the change. Ralph's sword cut through the air faster than before, each swing trailing a sharp wind. With every strike, Ralph's attacks grew more focused, more powerful. Then, without warning, Ralph slashed his sword in a wide arc.
A crescent-shaped wind slash exploded from the tip of his blade, slicing through the air with a fierce whistle. Magnus moved to block, but the force behind the strike was stronger than expected. The wind-driven crescent grazed the King's cheek, leaving a thin line of blood.
For a heartbeat, Ralph thought he had finally gained the upper hand. But then, Magnus smiled—a dangerous, almost predatory smile.
"Impressive," the King said softly.
Before Ralph could react, Magnus moved. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between them. His speed was blinding, too fast for Ralph to follow. In one swift motion, Magnus disarmed Ralph and struck him hard in the chest, knocking the wind from his lungs. Ralph flew backward and slammed into the ground with a bone-shaking force.
Gasping for air, Ralph stared up at the King, his body aching from the blow. Magnus stood over him, calm and composed, wiping the blood from his cheek.
"You've come far," Magnus said, his voice steady.
Ralph groaned, his muscles screaming in pain. But even through the exhaustion, he felt a spark of triumph. He had managed to land a hit on the King, however small.
Magnus offered Ralph a hand and pulled him to his feet. "You've learned to tap into El," Magnus said, his voice filled with approval. "That's no small feat."
"El?" Ralph asked, his curiosity piqued.
Magnus smiled. "El is the foundation of physical enhancement in our world. With it, you can push your body beyond its natural limits—faster, stronger, more precise. But El is just one of the three great forces."
Ralph listened closely as the King continued. "The second force is Lei—magic. Lei allows you to manipulate the world around you, down to the very elements. Fire, water, air, earth—all can be controlled with Lei."
"And the third?" Ralph asked.
Magnus's expression grew more serious. "The third force is Zeth. Zeth is the rarest and most powerful of them all. It is an extension of the soul itself, and only the kings of this world possess it. Zeth allows us to manipulate our very souls, transforming them into powerful attacks unique to each individual. Zeth combines both El and Lei, creating abilities that surpass all others."
Ralph's eyes widened in awe. "And you have Zeth?"
Magnus nodded. "Yes. Each king has their own Zeth, a power tied to their essence. It is what makes us more than rulers—it makes us protectors. But Zeth is not a power to be used lightly. It requires great responsibility."
Ralph stared at the King, feeling the weight of his words. The idea that such incredible power existed—and that the King himself wielded it—was both inspiring and terrifying.
Magnus placed a hand on Ralph's shoulder. "You've shown great potential, Ralph. You've tapped into El at a young age, something many never achieve. Now, you're ready for the next stage."
Ralph looked up at Magnus, his heart racing. "Next stage?"
Magnus gestured toward the entrance of the sparring grounds, where two figures approached. One was tall and lean, his sharp eyes scanning the training yard with the precision of a seasoned fighter. The other was younger, about Ralph's age, with a muscular build and an air of arrogance. The younger boy's gaze locked onto Ralph, his expression filled with disdain.
"This is Keltic," Magnus introduced the older man. "He will be your instructor in mastering El. And this," he gestured to the younger boy, "is Ben, his student and your new sparring partner."
Ben eyed Ralph with a sneer. "So this is the street urchin who unlocked El? Impressive… for someone who grew up in the gutters."
Ralph stiffened at the insult, but he held his tongue. He could feel the tension between them already.
"You'll be training with Ben," Magnus continued. "But first, a duel to test your skills."
Keltic frowned slightly. "Your Majesty, are you sure? Tapping into El is one thing, but controlling it in combat—"
Magnus smiled. "Let them fight. Ralph needs to be tested."
Ben stepped forward, unsheathing his training sword. "This won't take long," he said smugly. His body began to emit a bright green aura as he activated his El. The energy radiating from him was palpable, a mix of speed and power.
Ben lunged at Ralph with incredible speed, his sword slicing through the air with precise, powerful strikes. Ralph barely managed to block the first blow, the impact jarring his arms. Ben's attacks were relentless, each swing designed to overpower and overwhelm.
Ralph struggled to keep up, his breath coming in short gasps as he dodged and parried. Ben was faster and stronger, his El-enhanced movements making him a blur of green energy. Ralph knew he couldn't match Ben's raw power—not yet.
As Ben swung for his head, Ralph ducked and kicked out at Ben's legs, sending him stumbling backward. Ralph quickly scooped up a handful of sand from the ground and threw it into Ben's face.
Ben growled in frustration, wiping the sand from his eyes. "You fight like a coward," he spat. "Guess that's what happens when you've spent your life in the slums."
Ralph's grip tightened on his sword, but before he could respond, Ben's aura flared with an intense, bright green glow. The air around him crackled with energy as he pressed forward, launching into a series of brutal, precise attacks. His movements were fast—too fast for Ralph to fully counter. Each strike pushed Ralph further back, the impact of Ben's blows sending jolts of pain through his arms.
"You're nothing but street trash," Ben sneered, his strikes becoming more aggressive, relentless. "How do you expect to keep up with someone who's trained all their life for this? You don't belong here!"
Ralph could barely keep up, his defense weakening with every second. Ben was overpowering him, and Ralph could feel his strength waning. His heart raced as he struggled to block the oncoming strikes, his muscles screaming in pain. The words cut deep, and as Ben's sword came crashing down toward him again, Ralph knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.
"You think someone like you could ever stand among us?" Ben shouted, his voice filled with contempt. He raised his sword for what he intended to be the final blow. "Pathetic. You're just some worthless orphan with no family, no future, and no place here."
Ralph's grip tightened on his sword. Ben's words hit a nerve, and before he could stop himself, the faces of Alan and Ethan flashed through his mind. His two friends—his brothers—had died protecting him. The pain of their loss surged through him, fueling a new wave of anger.
Something snapped inside Ralph. His body surged with power as his El flared to life once more, this time glowing a pure, brilliant white. The energy flowed through him like a raging river, and suddenly, everything became clear.
With a burst of speed, Ralph lunged at Ben, his sword now enveloped in the white glow of El. Ben barely managed to block the first strike, his eyes wide with shock. Ralph's attacks came faster and harder, his movements more precise. He swung his sword in a wide arc, releasing a series of air slashes that whistled through the air toward Ben.
Ben growled, his green aura flaring as he prepared for his final attack. He layered his El into his sword, creating a powerful two-tiered strike. "Take this!" Ben roared, slashing down with all his strength.
Ralph focused his energy into a single strike, creating an air funnel that collided with Ben's attack. The force of Ralph's strike shattered Ben's defenses, sending him crashing to the ground, his sword flying from his hand.
Ben lay on the ground, stunned and gasping for air. Ralph stood over him, his white aura still glowing faintly. For a moment, Ben's eyes filled with fear, but Ralph extended a hand.
Ben hesitated, then slowly took Ralph's hand. Ralph pulled him to his feet, offering a tired smile. "Thanks for the match."
King Magnus, who had been watching in silence, stepped forward. "Impressive, Ralph. Very impressive."
Ralph straightened, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. The King's approval filled him with pride.
Magnus turned to Keltic. "Train Ralph to maintain and release his El at will. He's ready."
Keltic nodded, still processing what he had seen. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Magnus smiled. "You've done well, both of you. Keep pushing each other. Magnesia will need warriors like you in the days to come."
With that, Magnus turned to leave, his gaze darkening. A messenger approached, bowing low. "Your Majesty, Fiter and Arabes have combined their forces. They've gathered on the Northern Plains. Their numbers… tens of thousands."
Magnus's expression hardened. "Then it's time. Gather the 30th Royal Corps and all Northern Divisions. We march to meet them."