*BANG*
A punching bag was suddenly thrown against a room, a girl with brown hair and blue eyes huffed as her training concluded.
By the door and older boy with brown hair and blue eyes waatched in interest. "Hey Grafis, why do you train this hard everyday?"
The boy asked, the girl was startled for a moment but then calmed down. "Brother, were you watching me the whole time"
Her voice was a faint whisper, the boy the. walked towards her. "Yes, i have"
"…I see" She pulled her hands back and then punched him straight in the guts.
The boy doubled over, clutching his stomach as a gasp escaped his lips. "G-Grafis!" he stammered, looking up at her with wide eyes. "What was that for?!"
"…You know i hate when you do that Salef, can't i have privacy" she said with a small but sweet smile on her face.
"Yeah fine, but atleast rest it's not like you're going to become a Ranker or something" He quickly recovered and joked.
There was no answer from Grafis, Salef looked at her for a second and felt something deep within his heart move. "…Wow, you really do want to go to the infinite Arena huh."
Grafis's gaze hardened, her blue eyes shimmering with determination. She crossed her arms, her voice firm but calm. "Yes, I do. And I'm going to make it, Salef. No matter what."
Salef's playful smirk faltered as he looked into her eyes, seeing a fire there he hadn't noticed before. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "hmm well then, i have no reason to stop you, i mean you have trained because that is your ambition and i haven't done anything like that before too…so, if you're going to become a ranker i am too"
Grafis raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Oh, is that so? Since when did you decide to take this seriously, Salef?"
Salef straightened, feigning confidence despite the flush creeping up his neck. "Since now. If my little sister can dream big, then so can I. Besides," he added with a grin, "someone's gotta keep an eye on you in that Arena."
Grafis chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You're not serious. You're lazy, Salef. Do you even know how to fight without tripping over yourself?"
"Heh, it's not about being strong, it is about being there for my little sister, it would be embarrassing if i let my sister get in danger while her brother is here enjoying his life" He hit his chest triumphantly.
Grafis chuckled. "Mhm sure, if so you should go find out what your skill is, You already know mine and i think you can get your own appraised by that nosy friend of yours"
"True, well i'll see you later Sis, I'll go meet Hectore now" Salef turned on his heel, heading for the door. Just before leaving, he glanced back with a grin. "Don't train yourself to death, Grafis. You'll need energy to actually use all that strength."
She smirked, crossing her arms. "Don't trip on your way to Hectore, brother. I'd hate for you to embarrass yourself before you even start."
Salef chuckled, closing the door behind him.
Alone again, Grafis let out a long breath. Her brother's sudden interest in her dream was surprising, but she couldn't afford distractions. She turned her gaze to the punching bag, her fingers clenching into fists.
The Infinite Arena. The thought of it both thrilled and terrified her. It wasn't just a competition; it was a proving ground for the strongest, a place where legends were born—or destroyed.
Her hand brushed the pendant hanging around her neck, a simple metal charm etched with a strange, unfamiliar symbol. "I'll make it," she murmured. "I have to."
Meanwhile, Salef jogged through the bustling streets of their small town, the faint sound of blacksmiths hammering and merchants calling out deals filling the air. He spotted Hectore leaning casually against the entrance of his shop, a strange assortment of gadgets and tools on display behind him.
Hectore, a wiry boy with messy black hair and sharp green eyes, raised an eyebrow as Salef approached. "Well, well. Look who decided to show up. What brings you here, Salef? Finally ready to do something other than nap all day?"
Salef rolled his eyes. "I need your help. Grafis says I should figure out my skill. Think you can help me with that?"
Hectore's grin widened, revealing a flash of teeth. "Oh, now this is interesting. You, the eternal slacker, want to discover your skill? This I have to see."
"Hey, just because I haven't tried before doesn't mean I don't have potential," Salef shot back, though his tone lacked real bite. "So, can you do it or not?"
Hectore laughed, pushing off the wall. "Of course I can. Step inside. Let's see what kind of hidden talent is lurking in that lazy shell of yours."
As Salef followed him into the shop, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt. What if he didn't have a skill? What if he wasn't cut out for the path Grafis had chosen?
But then he thought of his sister's determined gaze, the fire in her eyes. If she could take on the world, so could he—or at least, he could try.
Inside Hectore's shop, the air was filled with the scent of oil and metal, the faint hum of machinery buzzing in the background. Hectore led Salef to a cluttered table, gesturing for him to sit.
"All right, Salef," Hectore said, rummaging through a drawer filled with strange objects. "Before we start, let me ask you this: what do you think your skill is? Got any hunches?"
Salef scratched the back of his head, his expression sheepish. "Honestly? No idea. I was hoping you'd just, y'know, figure it out for me."
Hectore snorted, pulling out a small crystalline orb that shimmered with a faint blue light. "Of course you were. Well, this little baby here is a Skill Resonator. It'll detect the latent energy in your body and give us a hint at what you're capable of. Assuming you're not a total dud, that is."
Salef scowled. "I'm not a dud."
"Uh-huh," Hectore said, setting the orb on the table. "Put your hands on it and focus. Try to clear your mind. Think about… well, nothing. If that's not too hard for you."
Salef glared but complied, placing his hands on the orb. It was cold to the touch, and he felt a faint vibration as the crystal began to glow. A moment later, the light shifted, swirling with shades of Red and blue.
"This…is actually interesting, you have two skills?!, one is Passive and the other one is an Active one, well you would have to find out what they are yourself" He said as he shrugged his shoulders.
"How do i do that?" Salek asked curiously.
Hectore smirked. "Well i mean you could ask Ainis to teach you how to use Enma"
"What is Enma"
"Are you dumb?"
"Hey i don't usually pay attention to arena stuff"
"I know but are you seriously ok?, Everyone knows what Enma is" Hectore pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, "Unbelievable…" before giving Salef a pointed look. "Enma is the basic foundation for controlling and amplifying skills, genius. It's what separates amateurs from pros. Without it, even the most powerful skill is useless."
Salef blinked, then nodded slowly. "Okay, so… Enma is important. Got it. And you think Ainis can teach me?"
Hectore smirked, crossing his arms. "Yeah, if she doesn't beat you to a pulp first. She's not exactly patient with clueless newbies, and you're, well… you."
Salef frowned. "Why do I feel like I'm walking into a trap?"
"Because you are," Hectore replied cheerfully. "But if you're serious about this whole Ranker thing, you'll need her help. Besides, Ainis owes me a favor. I'll let her know you're coming."
"Gee, thanks," Salef said dryly, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. "Anything else I should know before I get myself killed?"
Hectore tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah. Don't call her short. Or cute. Or anything other than 'Master Ainis.' Trust me on that one."
Salef raised an eyebrow but decided not to question it. "Right. 'Master Ainis' it is. Thanks, Hectore."
As he left the shop, Salef felt a mix of excitement and dread. He had no idea who Ainis was or what he was getting himself into, but he couldn't back down now. Not when Grafis was working so hard to chase her dream.
"So he said i should go to the Apothecary
and ask for Master Ainis. I just hope this doesn't end with me running for my life," Salef muttered under his breath as he weaved through the busy streets of the town.
The Apothecary was located in a quieter part of the market district, its exterior unassuming except for the faintly glowing herbs hanging above the door. As Salef stepped inside, the scent of dried plants and something faintly metallic filled his nose. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars, vials, and ancient-looking books.
Behind the counter stood a petite woman with sharp, silver eyes and fiery red hair tied in a loose braid. She looked up from a mortar and pestle, her expression instantly shifting from neutral to suspicious. She was an elf,
"Can I help you?" she asked, her tone clipped.
Salef hesitated. "Uh, yeah. I'm looking for someone named Ainis. Hectore said I should—"
Her eyes narrowed. "Hectore sent you? Great." She set the mortar down with a loud thunk and crossed her arms. "What does that fool want this time?"
Salef raised his hands defensively. "Nothing bad! He just said you could teach me… uh… Enma?"
Ainis's eyebrow twitched. "Teach you Enma?" She gave him a once-over, her gaze sharp and assessing. "You don't look like much. Are you even serious about this, or is this just some dare?"
Salef straightened his back, puffing out his chest. "I'm serious! My sister's training to be a Ranker, and I'm not about to let her do it alone."
Ainis snorted. "Admirable, but words don't mean squat in the Arena. You want to learn Enma? Fine. Prove you're not a waste of my time." She pointed to a worn training mat in the corner of the shop. "Stand there."
"Right now?" Salef asked, his confidence faltering.
"Now," Ainis said sharply, already moving to the mat herself. "Let's see what you've got. Show me how you fight."
Salef hesitated. "I, uh, don't really… know how to fight."
Ainis smirked, cracking her knuckles. "Perfect. This'll be fun."
"Wait i am just here to learn Enma not to fi—."
And a punch to the gut.
Salek felt like today was common for him to be punched in his bowels
as he crumpled to his knees for the second time that day. "Why does everyone think my stomach is a punching bag?" he groaned, clutching his midsection.
Ainis stood over him, unimpressed. "Lesson one: If you can't defend yourself, you won't survive long enough to use Enma. Get up."
Salef staggered to his feet, wincing. "You could've warned me!"
"I did," Ainis replied with a shrug. "I said 'stand there.' You didn't think that meant we were starting?"
Salef muttered something under his breath, but he planted his feet and raised his hands in what he hoped looked like a defensive stance. "Fine. Let's do this."
Ainis smirked. "Good. Now, don't think. Just react."
Before Salef could ask what that meant, Ainis darted forward, her movements so fast he barely had time to blink. Her fist shot toward his face, and he flinched, throwing up his arms in a desperate attempt to block.
The blow didn't land. Instead, Ainis stopped just short, tapping his forehead with her finger. "Too slow. If I wanted to, you'd already be out cold."
Salef scowled, lowering his arms. "You could try giving me a chance!"
"This is your chance," Ainis said, circling him like a predator sizing up its prey. "Every fight starts before the first move. If you can't read your opponent, you'll lose before you begin."
Salef clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up. "I didn't come here for a philosophy lesson. Just teach me how to use Enma!"
Ainis stopped, tilting her head. "You think Enma is just some trick you can learn in an afternoon? Enma isn't a shortcut, kid. It's the manifestation of your will, your skill, and your ability to survive. Without a foundation, it's useless."
Salef opened his mouth to argue, but he froze. Her words hit something deep within him. He thought back to Grafis, to her relentless training and unwavering resolve. She wasn't just strong—she had a purpose.
"I get it," he said quietly, his fists relaxing. "I need to be more than I am now. I have to earn it."
Ainis studied him for a moment before nodding. "That's a start. Now, let's see if you can keep up."
Salef braced himself as Ainis launched another attack. This time, he didn't flinch. He didn't try to think or predict her moves. He just reacted.