The training grounds buzzed with the quiet hum of whispered conversations as Raze approached. Since his recent accomplishments, he had felt the weight of countless eyes upon him. Some looked on with respect, others with resentment, but all with a sense of wariness. He knew that his rapid rise was both admired and feared—a dangerous combination in a place ruled by power and tradition.
As he entered the circle, the crowd parted subtly, their silence thick with anticipation. Raze's gaze settled on Eldric, a senior initiate whose gaze was sharp with disdain. Eldric's presence was formidable; he was not only powerful but held sway over a group of loyal initiates. He had been watching Raze's rise with a barely concealed hostility, one that now seemed ready to surface.
"Well, well," Eldric sneered, loud enough for all to hear. "If it isn't the Ironstone prodigy himself. I wonder if you think that little rock makes you invincible?"
Raze met his gaze, his expression calm. "I don't rely on luck, Eldric. Maybe that's why I'm still here."
Eldric's smirk faded, replaced by a look of cold anger. He stepped forward, his Iron Vein mark glowing faintly, a silent challenge. "Let's see if that arrogance is worth anything, Drakan. Or if you're just a loud mouth with a shiny toy."
The crowd murmured, sensing the tension thickening between them. Raze knew that Eldric wasn't challenging him for respect. He wanted to put Raze in his place, to remind everyone that he was the senior, the one in control.
"If you want to test me, I'm ready," Raze replied, his voice steady. "But you'll regret it."
Eldric's eyes narrowed, and he gave a sharp nod. The crowd stepped back, forming a wide circle around them. This was no official match; it was an unspoken duel of power and influence. Raze knew that if he won, it would send a message to everyone watching. But if he lost, his rise could be cut short before it truly began.
Eldric moved first, his Iron Vein flaring as he lunged forward, his fists charged with energy. His speed and force were impressive, but Raze had been studying his movements, watching the slight delay in his attacks that signaled his reliance on brute force over technique.
As Eldric swung, Raze sidestepped, countering with a swift strike to his ribs. The impact jolted Eldric, his face twisting in frustration as he stumbled back. But he recovered quickly, his Vein mark blazing with renewed intensity.
"So, you do have some fight," Eldric muttered, his tone edged with contempt. "But you're not ready to face real strength."
Raze's eyes narrowed. He could feel the Ironstone's energy pulsing against his chest, a steady rhythm that mirrored the Iron Vein's power within him. He didn't need to overpower Eldric—he needed to outlast him.
Eldric attacked again, his strikes relentless, each one more forceful than the last. Raze deflected each blow, maintaining a calm focus, letting Eldric wear himself down. He could see the frustration building in his opponent's eyes, the subtle faltering in his movements.
Finally, when Eldric overextended, Raze struck with the Iron Fury, his fist connecting solidly with Eldric's chest. The impact sent Eldric staggering back, gasping for breath, his confidence shattered.
The crowd fell silent, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and respect as Raze straightened, his gaze cold and unyielding. Eldric, recovering slowly, clenched his jaw in frustration but offered no more words. He knew he had been bested.
Raze stepped back, meeting the eyes of the initiates around him. He didn't need to speak; his victory had spoken for him. He had shown them that he was not just another initiate—and he had reminded those who doubted him that his ambition was not without merit.
A Quiet Warning
Later that evening, Raze returned to his quarters, his mind still focused on the events of the day. The thrill of victory lingered, but he was aware that he had drawn more attention than ever before. As he began to unwind, there was a soft knock on his door.
Mira stepped inside, her expression serious. "You're making waves, Drakan. Eldric isn't the type to let things go. And he's not alone."
Raze shrugged, unfazed. "If they want to challenge me, I'm not going to back down."
Mira sighed, her gaze wary. "Strength without caution is a quick way to make enemies. Eldric has allies among the senior ranks, and they don't like seeing someone climb so quickly. They see it as… disruptive."
Raze looked away, considering her words. He knew that the sect valued tradition, and his ambition had disrupted that balance. But he had come too far to let fear hold him back.
"Varian summoned me," Raze said finally. "He has a mission for me."
Mira's eyes widened slightly. "Varian? What kind of mission?"
"A rogue Veinborn has been causing trouble outside the sect's boundaries. Varian wants me to neutralize him." Raze's tone was calm, but he felt a spark of anticipation at the thought of the challenge.
Mira's expression turned grim. "The rogue Veinborn… he was once one of us. He knows our techniques, our weaknesses. He's dangerous, Raze. Don't underestimate him."
Raze met her gaze, his resolve unwavering. "I know the risks, Mira. But this is my chance to prove myself."
She watched him in silence for a moment, then nodded, though her gaze remained troubled. "Just… be careful. There are those who value your strength here, Drakan. Don't let ambition blind you to the risks."
With that, she turned and left, leaving Raze alone with his thoughts. He understood the warning in her words, but his path was clear. This mission was more than a test; it was a chance to show the sect's leaders that he was not just another recruit—that he was someone to be feared and respected.
As the night deepened, he prepared his gear, securing the Ironstone and sharpening his dagger. When dawn arrived, he would set out to prove that his ambition was more than empty words.
And if he returned victorious, the sect would see that Raze Drakan was not a force to be controlled. He was a force to be reckoned with.