The blade rested on scorched metal, a streak of silver in the dark floor. Fire had touched everything else—burned dummies, blackened walls, cracked tiles—but not the weapon. It looked untouched. Waiting.
Longer than a dagger. Shorter than a sword. A single edge built for speed. For strikes that never missed.
Faint red lines traced the blade—etched deep like old scars. The steel gleamed with quiet menace. The hilt, dark and smooth, still seemed to remember his grip.
But it wasn't in his hand.
Ash's fingers twitched. 'It shouldn't be here.'
He stepped forward. One step. Then another. The heat wrapped around him, but it didn't stop him.
'Kael never moves without a reason. This isn't just some dumb prank.'
He stopped inches from the blade. His hand hovered over it, but he didn't touch it.
"You've got a lot of nerve,"
Kael turned slowly, a smirk already forming.
"Did you find it?" he asked like he already knew the answer. Like he'd been waiting.
'This must be very amusing to him.'
"Why'd you take it?"
Kael tilted his head. The smirk didn't fade. "Thought I'd help you out. Training without it sharpens the senses, doesn't it?"
'Uh-huh. Like I don't know what you're planning.'
Ash's fingers closed around the hilt. Warm. Like it had been burning. The heat pulsed through his skin.
"You really think this is funny?"
Kael stepped back, fire curling around his fingertips. "I think it worked."
'This power-hungry freak... He'll do anything for a fight.'
Ash rolled his shoulders, letting the tension crack down his spine.
"Next time, ask."
Kael laughed under his breath.
"Yeah… that's not happening."
Their eyes locked. Ash didn't blink.
He shook his head. "Let's just get this over with."
Blade in hand, Ash shifted his stance. Feet firm. Grip tight. Eyes steady.
Kael mirrored him. Flames licked the air around his hands. The smirk was still there.
They didn't speak again.
They didn't need to.
Kael's lips curled. His eyes narrowed, heat building behind them.
"Let's see you dodge this."
His hand snapped forward. Fire burst out, twisting into burning orbs that flew at Ash.
Ash moved. His steps were light, sharp. He didn't flinch, didn't stop. The flames rushed past, missing by inches. He watched Kael's fingers, tracked the shape of each fireball. Two came too close.
His blade flashed—quick, clean. Sparks flew as he cut through them, the flames snuffed out midair.
Kael let out a short laugh. "Not bad."
Fire coiled tighter around him.
"But let's see how you handle this."
He spread his arms. The fireballs still left in the air didn't shoot forward. They spun. Shifted. Twisted like they had minds of their own.
Ash's stance shifted.
'Not random. He's guiding them. Watching how I move. They're not meant to hit me—they're boxing me in.'
The fireballs struck.
Not from one side—but from all sides. They moved together, fast and sharp, bending through the air like snakes.
One skimmed Ash's side. Light flared—but there was no pain. He brushed his fingers over his shirt. Smooth. Unburnt.
The fabric held. Built for fire. No one in their family wore anything else. Not when their blood could burn cities.
Kael's clothes were just the same. Fire didn't scare them—it belonged to them.
Ash rolled his shoulder.
"Nice try."
His grip tightened.
Kael tilted his head. "Enough playing around. Your turn."
'So he wants me to really use it... Well, it's not like I can win with or without it.'
Ash's lips curled. "If you say so."
A familiar voice echoed in his mind.
"[Activating Skill: Storm Vein]"
A crack of energy surged through him. His chest pulled tight—then everything snapped into focus. The room didn't slow, but his mind raced ahead.
Kael's hands twitched.
The flames twisted.
The air bent before the blast.
"[Activating Skill: Static Surge]"
A pulse ran through his body. Light buzzed under his skin. He stepped—and the world blurred behind him.
'With this, I should be even faster.'
The distance vanished. Ash shot forward, blade a streak of silver.
Kael didn't move back.
The ground cracked.
Flames burst upward, a wall of fire roaring between them. The heat rolled over everything, the metal walls glowing faint red. Shadows stretched and snapped as the fire climbed higher.
Ash swung. Steel cut through air. Sparks exploded. The edge of his blade glowed—fire licking at the metal.
But he didn't stop. His eyes locked on Kael.
Lightning coiled around his arms. It didn't just hum—it moved with him. His steps were sharp, his path clean. One fireball curved toward him, but he'd already turned. Another wave flared—but he was past it before it peaked.
He struck.
One fast step. A clean angle. His blade aimed straight for Kael's ribs.
Kael's gaze snapped to him. His shoulders moved. Fire twisted tight around his frame—a burst that shot between them.
Ash jumped back.
His blade crashed into the wall of fire. The clash sent embers flying. Red sparks lit the ceiling like stars.
Kael didn't smile this time. He stood still, arms raised. The fire didn't sit on his skin anymore.
It came from inside him.
The air thickened. The flames pulsed like breath.
"So, you've been training."
Ash's grip tightened. Sparks crept along his fingers, crawling up the hilt of his blade.
'Of course I have, What do you think someone stuck at stage one would be doing? And you're still going easy on me.'
"Don't hold back."
Kael tilted his head. His eyes glowed, sharp and knowing. "You noticed."
Ash gave a single nod, his gaze fixed.
"I saw your fight at the tournament. You were stronger than this."
Kael's smirk twitched at the corner. "This is enough for you."
Flames curled up his arms, alive and ready.
"Any more, and I might actually hurt you."
Ash let out a breath. The energy in his veins hummed, steady and warm like a silent promise.
'This time, I'll win.'
"Is that so?" ash said.
He dropped low. Power surged through his legs. He moved.
Faster.
Kael's arms unfolded, flames erupted from his sleeves, dancing like restless spirits. Ash's blade sliced through the air, a silver blur that seemed to shimmer with deadly intent.
The space between them crackled with tension, the very air thickening with anticipation. For a moment, time itself seemed to hold its breath, poised on the precipice of chaos.