The days following Garen's merging of the Arcanium's essence with the Aetherstone were unlike any other. His body thrummed with newfound energy, a power more primal and unpredictable than anything he had experienced before. Every movement felt both heavy and light at the same time, as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, yet he was lighter than air, able to move with a fluidity that defied logic. His mind raced, constantly adjusting to the immense surge of power that swirled within him.
But despite the raw force he wielded, there was something deeply unfamiliar about this power. It was as if he had only scratched the surface of its potential, and the full scope of its capabilities was still out of his reach.
"You're restless," Lyra observed one morning, her sharp eyes locking onto him as she watched him train. "You wield the power of gods, yet you are still unsatisfied. You need something more."
Garen lowered his sword, his mind still a whirlwind of thoughts. "I don't know how to control it," he admitted, the weight of his admission apparent in his voice. "The power inside me... it's like a tempest. I feel like I'm on the edge of something far greater, but I can't fully grasp it."
Lyra stepped forward, her gaze piercing. "Then it's time for you to truly test yourself. We will spar. Not just as teacher and student, but as equals. Only in battle will you truly understand the depths of your power."
Garen's heart quickened. He had fought Kael, but that was a battle of mere force and will, not of mastery. This was different. Lyra was a master of the Aetherstone in her own right. She was a demigod who had lived through countless lifetimes. If anyone could push him to his limits, it was her.
As the two prepared for the spar, the air between them grew thick with anticipation. Lyra's aura flared with a mix of controlled calm and untapped fury. She drew her weapon—an ethereal blade forged from her own essence—and looked at him, waiting.
"You've learned much from your trials," Lyra said softly. "Now show me what you've become."
Garen tightened his grip on the Eclipse Edge, the blade that had served him so well in his past battles, now infused with the remnants of the Arcanium and Aetherstone. The moment their eyes met, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Without warning, Lyra moved. Her speed was a blur, a flash of motion that would have overwhelmed a lesser foe. But Garen was no lesser foe. He tapped into the combined power of the Aetherstone and the Arcanium, his senses sharpened beyond human limits. He could see the flow of her energy before she moved, could feel the weight of her presence as it shifted through the air.
The clash of their blades rang out like a thunderclap, the sound reverberating through the air. Garen's muscles, honed by countless battles and trials, responded instinctively, blocking and countering, his strikes precise and controlled. But Lyra was a master, each move fluid and graceful, every strike a lesson in technique and strategy. She was testing him, prodding him to push further, to unlock the true depth of his power.
As the battle wore on, Garen began to notice something strange. The power within him—the fusion of Arcanium and Aetherstone—wasn't just flowing through him anymore. It was guiding him, as if the very essence of the power itself had come alive. His movements grew more fluid, more instinctual, as if his body had become an extension of the energy around him.
Lyra's strikes were fast, but Garen's reaction time had accelerated. He began to feel the rhythm of the battle, the ebb and flow of energy between them. His blade clashed against hers with an intensity that shook the very air, yet with each contact, he felt his understanding deepening.
Then, in a single heartbeat, everything clicked. His vision shifted, the battlefield expanding before him as his mind synced with the power coursing through him. He could feel the Aetherstone's resonance shifting, amplifying the flow of the Arcanium's energy, and for the first time, Garen understood the true nature of his power.
He wasn't just controlling the energy—he was becoming it.
A burst of light exploded from his body, a surge of energy that sent a shockwave through the battlefield. Lyra barely managed to block his next strike, her own power faltering for a moment as she adjusted to his newfound intensity.
Garen stood before her, his breathing heavy, his eyes alight with realization. The power he wielded was no longer a chaotic force—it was a controlled, focused current, and he was its master.
Lyra, now standing back, watched him with a mixture of awe and pride. "You've done it," she said, her voice a low murmur of admiration. "You've unlocked it. The true power of the Aetherstone and the Arcanium. But this is just the beginning."
Garen lowered his blade, still processing the magnitude of what had just transpired. He had felt it—the shift, the moment when everything changed. He was no longer just a demigod wielding borrowed power. He had become something else entirely.
"Where do we go from here?" Garen asked, his voice steady despite the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.
Lyra smiled faintly, her gaze distant. "Now, we prepare. The gods will notice your growth soon enough, and they will not sit idly by. When the time comes, you will need to be ready—not just to fight, but to lead. And for that, you will need more than power. You will need allies."
As she spoke, the air itself seemed to shift—a sense of foreboding filling the space around them. Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled. A distant rumble echoed through the air, a crackling energy that sent a chill down their spines.
Lyra's expression hardened as she turned to face the source. "It's him," she murmured.
A dark figure, towering and powerful, appeared on the horizon. His aura burned like the sun, a presence so immense that it seemed to warp the very fabric of the world around him. His eyes glinted with ancient fury, and his body radiated an intensity that could only belong to one being.
The God of War had arrived.