"Blazing Rain."
"Babylon Shield."
A loud explosion shakes the ground beneath me, sending ripples through the base and snapping everyone to attention. I stand among a crowd of recruits, all cheering as we watch an intense sparring session unfold. The two participants are none other than the top students in our class—Aman List and Farrow Lock.
Farrow is aggressive, dominating the fight with powerful attacks, but Aman is holding his ground. His defense is renowned as the best among us. The fight isn't just physical; it's a battle of strategy and wits. Watching them, I feel a mix of admiration and envy. They're exceptional—there's no question why they're considered the best.
"That's enough," the instructor calls out, his voice cutting through the tension. Both combatants freeze mid-motion, their intense focus dissolving into reluctant compliance. "Neither of you left the ring, nor was there a clear victor. I'll call this a draw. Return to the crowd."
The two nod, exchanging a mutual look of respect before stepping out of the sparring ring.
"Next on the list: Kairos Valorin and Gladus Will."
My name echoes across the field, and I freeze. I wasn't expecting this.
"Kairos Valorin!" the instructor calls again, and I snap out of my thoughts, quickly hurrying to the ring.
As I step inside, I catch sight of my opponent. Gladus Will—a name I don't recognize. I've never seen him spar or heard anything about him, which only heightens my unease.
"Remember, boys," the instructor begins, addressing us both, "no dirty tactics. You may use spells and any other abilities you possess. The match ends when I stop it or when one of you leaves the ring. This session is to test your adaptability against an unfamiliar opponent. Understood?"
We both nod, and his sharp command follows: "Begin!"
The camp falls silent. The air is thick with anticipation as the crowd waits for one of us to make the first move. My mind races. Should I attack first? Stay defensive? Without any knowledge of Gladus's abilities, I decide to play it safe and let him make the first move.
But he doesn't move.
Gladus stands perfectly still, his piercing gaze locked onto me. The seconds stretch into an eternity as we size each other up.
"Start already!" someone from the crowd yells impatiently.
The shout seems to trigger something in Gladus. His stance shifts suddenly, crouching low with his hands almost grazing the ground. He looks feral, almost animalistic.
What is his ability? I can't figure it out just by watching. My only option is to fight and adapt. But as I shift into a better defensive stance, pain explodes in my midsection.
I gasp, my eyes widening in disbelief. Blood. The metallic scent fills my nostrils, and it takes me a moment to realize what's happened. Gladus's image flickers in front of me, like a mirage, before solidifying.
I look down to see his fist buried in my stomach.
A sharp cough escapes me, blood spewing from my mouth as I collapse to my knees. He jumps back, not following up with another attack. Instead, he stands a few feet away, watching me with a twisted smile. His aura has completely changed.
What the hell was that? His punch wasn't normal. It wasn't just enhanced with mana—it felt as if my internal organs had been directly attacked.
Pushing through the pain, I force myself to my feet, adrenaline surging through my veins. My instincts scream at me to move, and I leap backward just as Gladus's image vanishes again. My heart pounds as my eyes dart around the ring.
Where is he?
Suddenly, pain shoots through my left arm, and I let out a scream. I collapse to the ground, clutching my arm, the agony unlike anything I've ever felt. It's not just physical—it's invasive, as if the attack bypassed my defenses entirely.
Gladus stands a few feet away, motionless once again. He isn't pressing the attack. Instead, he watches, almost taunting me with his calm demeanor. I try to formulate a plan, but the pain clouds my thoughts, and fear begins to creep in.
"Surge!" I shout, unleashing a wave of electricity that crackles across the ring. Gladus jumps back, evading the attack with ease. The moment his feet touch the ground, his image flickers once more.
Panic rises in my chest. I've never felt this way in a fight—not even when sparring with my father. This is something else entirely.
Then, it happens.
For the briefest moment, the world seems to slow down, and I see it. Mana. Fluctuating in the air around Gladus. His movements are too fast for the naked eye, but now I can trace them—barely. It's not magic fueling his attacks. Instead, he's manipulating my own mana, drawing it from my body and twisting it around his strikes.
I sidestep just as his next attack closes in, narrowly avoiding his fist. For the first time, I see a flicker of surprise on his face. The crowd murmurs in shock.
Gladus's surprise quickly shifts to fury. His eyes narrow, and his mana surges, growing violent and unstable. Without warning, he charges straight at me, abandoning his previous strategy. His movements are faster than I can react to, and his punch lands squarely on my face.
The impact sends me flying out of the ring.
"Enough!" the instructor shouts, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Groaning, I pick myself up, wiping blood from my mouth as I stagger to my feet. My body aches, but I force myself to stand tall. Gladus stands in the ring, his rage palpable. For a moment, it looks like he's going to attack again, but then he turns away and walks off without a word.
Even as he leaves, I remain on guard. His mana still feels wild, untamed, and dangerous.
"Kairos!" the instructor calls, snapping me out of my thoughts. "The match is over. Return to the crowd."
"Yes, sir," I reply, forcing my body to relax as I step away.
As I rejoin the other recruits, my mind races with questions. What is Gladus's ability? How was he able to manipulate my mana? And why did he seem so enraged when I dodged his attack?
"Kairos…" Drefan's familiar voice pulls me from my thoughts. I turn to see him approaching, concern etched on his face. "You okay?" he asks, throwing an arm over my shoulders.
I wince at the weight of his arm, the pain from the fight still fresh. "Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, trying to sound convincing.
He narrows his eyes, unconvinced. "Don't beat yourself up, brother. You went up against the third most promising recruit in our class. Of course you'd lose."
I give him a halfhearted glare. "You're terrible at cheering people up."
He chuckles, patting me on the back—causing me to wince again. "Sorry, man."
As the day goes on, I watch the other matches, taking mental notes on my future teammates. Drefan's match is as tactical as I expected. He might not be flashy, but his control over mana is top-notch.
After training, I drag myself back to my camp. Exhaustion pulls at me as I collapse onto my bed, but my mind refuses to rest. The instructor's words echo in my head.
"Tomorrow, you'll join your first battle as auxiliary units under the Blue Dawn unit."
An actual battle. My first real fight—and under my father's command, no less.
Am I ready?
The thought lingers as I drift into an uneasy sleep.
Dream Sequence
Cold.
I open my eyes to find myself in the same empty room as before. The same throne. The same crown.
Again? Why am I here again?
"Come."
The voice is different this time—softer, feminine. It calls from the crown, its tone both alluring and commanding.
"Come to me, Kairos."
I instinctively raise my mana, preparing for anything. "Who are you? What is this place?" I demand.
The room shifts as a dark silhouette rises from behind the throne. My heart pounds as I recognize the presence—the same one that's been haunting me.
"Who are you?" I repeat, my mana crackling around me as I prepare to attack.
The silhouette dissolves, revealing a woman with long white hair and porcelain skin that seems to glow with mana. Her presence is overwhelming, forcing me to my knees.
"You are not ready yet," she says, her voice calm but heavy with authority. She leans in closer, her glowing eyes studying me. "In time, you will be."
With a wave of her hand, a force slams into me, sending me flying across the room.
I wake up screaming, drenched in sweat.
The recruits gather outside my camp, their faces pale with fear. "What's going on?" I ask, still disoriented.
"Kairos!" Drefan pushes through the crowd. "Thank the gods you're awake."
"What happened?" I ask, scanning their faces.
"Your mana went berserk," Drefan explains. "We all felt it. It was like you were in the middle of a battle."
Shame washes over me. "I'm sorry," I mutter, bowing my head.
The recruits disperse, but Drefan stays behind, his concern lingering. "Kairos… are you sure you're okay?"
I nod, though my mind is far from at ease. Who was the woman in my dream? And what did she mean when she said I wasn't ready?
Tomorrow, I'll face my first battle, but another war is already raging within me.