A few months had passed, and Rowan's journey to prove himself had become a daily struggle. Every morning, he trained before dawn, pushing his body past its limits. He focused on his footwork, his speed, and his resilience—anything that didn't rely on magic but might allow him to hold his own. Elena continued to encourage him, and their training sessions together had become rare but treasured moments. Despite his hard work, there were still those who viewed him as nothing more than the headmaster's godson, and Roderick never passed up a chance to remind him of his shortcomings.
The day of the Mid-Year Combat Exam arrived, and the excitement in the air was palpable. The arena was packed with students, instructors, and staff, all eager to see who would emerge as the victor. Rowan stood at the edge of the arena, taking deep breaths to calm his nerves. He spotted Elena among the crowd, her eyes catching his for a brief moment. She smiled at him, and for a second, it reminded him of why he was pushing himself so hard.
The instructor, the burly man from Combat Class, stood at the center of the arena, calling out names as the matches began. Rowan's name was called, and he stepped forward, paired with a student named Victor, who was known for his expertise in earth magic.
Victor flashed him a cocky smile as they squared off in the arena. "Headmaster's kid or not, this is my win," he sneered, already preparing for the fight.
Rowan clenched his fists and stood tall, trying to ignore the pressure of the crowd. He had no magic, but he was going to prove he could fight just as hard as anyone.
The instructor called for the match to begin, and Victor wasted no time. With a wave of his hand, the ground trembled, and a barrage of sharp rocks shot toward Rowan. He dodged and weaved, narrowly avoiding the deadly projectiles. Using his speed, he closed the distance between them, landing a few solid punches on Victor's side.
Victor grunted, clearly irritated, and stomped the ground. A shockwave rippled through the arena, sending Rowan crashing to the dirt. He scrambled to his feet, but Victor's earth magic was too overwhelming. With a roar, Victor summoned a massive boulder, hurling it at Rowan.
Rowan barely had time to react. He tried to roll out of the way, but the rock struck him in the shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ground. He gasped for breath, feeling the crushing weight of his failure as the instructor called the match.
Victor stood over him, his arms raised in victory. "Pathetic," he muttered, turning his back to Rowan as the crowd cheered for him.
Rowan lay there, bruised and battered, his chest heavy with the sting of defeat. Before the instructor could announce the final result, a loud, thunderous roar shook the entire arena.
The ground trembled violently, and a dark figure appeared in the sky, casting an ominous shadow over the city. Darius Bloodstone, a notorious figure from the Revival Cult, hovered above the academy, his eyes glowing with dark power.
The academy's protective wards flared in an attempt to shield the city, but Darius's energy shattered them instantly. With a twisted grin, he raised his hand and uttered a single word, summoning a wave of destructive magic. The force was so powerful that it ripped through the walls of the academy, sending buildings crumbling to the ground. Flames erupted in every direction, and screams filled the air.
Rowan scrambled to his feet, the pain from his previous injuries forgotten as he watched the destruction unfold. The city was being obliterated. People ran for their lives, but there was nowhere to hide from the chaos Darius had unleashed.
The academy instructors rushed to the scene, trying to mount some sort of defense, but it was futile. Darius was too powerful. Rowan couldn't stand idly by. This was his home, his academy, and he couldn't let it all fall apart.
His mind raced as he ran toward Darius, desperation fueling his every step. He knew he didn't have magic, but he had to do something. Anything.
Darius turned to face him, his mouth curling into a cruel smile. "Ah, the little boy who can't even summon a spark of magic. You think you can stop me?"
Rowan's heart pounded in his chest. "I don't care how powerful you are. I'll fight you. I'll protect this city."
Darius's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Protect it? You can't even protect yourself."
With a flick of his wrist, Darius sent a wave of dark energy toward Rowan, knocking him backward with bone-crushing force. Rowan's body collided with the ground, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. Every part of him screamed in pain, but he pushed himself up again, refusing to stay down.
Darius sneered, lifting his hand once more. This time, a massive, swirling vortex of dark magic formed in his palm, ready to tear through the entire city.
"You're nothing but a toy to me," Darius said coldly, unleashing the vortex.
Rowan tried to move, but the magic was too fast. The energy slammed into him with the force of a hundred storms, lifting him off the ground and hurling him through the air. His vision blurred, and his body was torn apart by the relentless energy, crashing into buildings, knocking debris and rubble in every direction.
He fought to stay conscious, struggling against the pain that threatened to consume him. But it was hopeless. He was nothing compared to Darius's power. He had no magic, no way to defend himself against the onslaught.
As Darius lowered his hand, Rowan's body was left crumpled in the wreckage of a shattered building. The entire city had been devastated. The academy, the students, and everyone Rowan cared about were in ruins.
But as he lay there, unable to move, he could hear footsteps approaching. Through the haze of his vision, Elena's silver hair appeared above him, her face streaked with dirt but filled with determination.
"You're still alive," she breathed, her voice full of both relief and concern. "Rowan, don't give up. Please."
Rowan's vision blurred, and his body was so broken he could barely respond. "I… I couldn't stop him… I couldn't protect anyone…"
Elena knelt beside him, her expression fierce. "You didn't give up. That's what matters. You fought."
But Darius's voice rang out, interrupting their moment. "Fought? Against me? You're all so weak."
Rowan's eyes snapped to the figure of Darius standing over them, a dark aura radiating from him. "This city is nothing. Its people are nothing. The only thing that matters is my resurrection. The Revival Cult will rise, and nothing you do will stop it."
Elena stood protectively in front of Rowan, her hands glowing with wind magic. "We won't let you win."
Darius laughed, his voice dripping with cruelty. "You're too late." He raised his hand again, this time to finish them both off.
But before he could strike, a force more powerful than any Rowan had ever felt erupted from within Elena. A surge of wind magic so intense it created a barrier between them and Darius. The sheer force sent Darius stumbling backward, his expression momentarily surprised.
"Get out of here, now!" Elena shouted at Rowan, pushing him away as she focused every ounce of her magic on holding Darius back.
Rowan tried to stand, his body shaking, but the world spun around him. His strength had failed him. The city had fallen. Everything he had fought for felt lost.
But as Elena stood, fiercely protecting him, Rowan's heart stirred. Even though they were losing, even though everything seemed hopeless, she was still fighting. For him. For everyone.
And maybe, just maybe, that was something worth fighting for.
Darius's magic tore through Elena's wind barrier with a scream of raw power. In the end, there would be no victory for Rowan or Elena. The city lay in ruins, and Darius's reign of terror had only just begun.
But as Rowan's vision faded to darkness, one thought echoed in his mind: This isn't the end. I'll find a way to stop him…