Counter Attack

Two figures, stood facing each other in the middle of a desolate plain, surrounded by towering monoliths. One was covered in flickering black flames that enveloped their entire body, while the other, with a ragged appearance, held a sword shrouded in black light in his right hand.

Kaelen slowly grasped for air as he collected his thoughts. He never would have imagined that his improvised, on-the-spot plan would actually work, even if the outcome differed from what he had initially expected. His original plan was to lure the fiery figure as close as possible, hoping that the light would engulf them both. The light would immediately heal any fatal injuries he sustained, but what about the fiery figure? What would happen if the light hit it as well? That's why he gambled by allowing himself to get injured.

However, since the figure stabbed him with its arm fully extended, the light's radius was too short to reach its main body. What it did reach, was the sword that had penetrated Kaelen's shoulder. He had at least hoped that the light would disintegrate the sword permanently, but he didn't expect the sword itself to spawn back with him. 

There are still several loopholes that could occur now, though. For instance, what if the fiery figure can cast another spell to erase the sword from Kaelen's hand—or worse, summon it back into its own grasp? As he looked at the fiery figure, it twitched erratically, its limbs jerking in bizarre, unnatural directions, as if it were throwing a tantrum. The tiny embers of the dark flames that enveloped its entire body began to gradually ignite once again, indicating its stubbornness.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

Kaelen, who is a novice with a sword, stood with a mix of nervous anticipation and grim determination. He gripped the hilt of the sword tightly. His stance was hesitant, his feet shifting uneasily on the ground as he tried to find his balance. 

If the figure's obstinacy drives it to keep fighting, it is Kaelen's willpower that will drives him to survive.

***

The old man, seated quietly on a boulder, watches the boy's lifeless body from afar sitting in the center of the towering monoliths. The air inside the circle emits a faint trace of aether energy. Suddenly, the sound of rustling leaves is heard behind the old man. The dense thicket and trees surrounding the forest make it difficult to see if something is approaching. The sound grew closer to the old man until a footstep was heard, revealing a silhouette. As if expecting someone, the old man rose from the boulder and turned around to welcome them.

The steps grew closer and closer until a man came into view.

"It's been a long time, Alaric" The man greets Master Cronos in a soft tone

The man appeared to be of similar age to Master Cronos, with a long gray beard and bandages covering both his eyes. He wore a black robe with a hood that obscured his grey haired head.

"Headmaster.." Master Cronos responded to him

Despite his eyes that are being covered with bandages, the man slowly approached Master Cronos with subtle movements. He then extended his hand with a firm, welcoming grip and suddenly burst into laughter.

"Just call me by my usual name, old friend"

Master Cronos grasped the man's hand with a confident shake, accepting the gesture with a warm smile.

"It is good to see you too, Orion"

After they have shaken hand, Master Orion directed his gaze to the boy behind Master Cronos

"Is that the boy?" He asked curiously

Master Cronos nodded in response to him

"I can't believe I'm finally seeing the day when you bring a Starborne into this world once again..."

Master Cronos paused for a moment, his sight fixated to the boy

"I'm just fulfilling a promise from the past"

Master Orion glanced at his friend's dispirited expression and began to ask a question to fill the silent atmosphere:

"So, how many times has the boy attempted his attunement?

"This is his first, and will be his last"

Startled by his friend's response, he then burst into laughter again

"As expected of you, Alaric! Well, if he wants to survive at least the first semester, this much should be no problem for him."

As they spoke, a dark light began to ooze from the boy's body, surrounding the entire circle.

***

—A few minutes earlier, in the plain—

The first who move is the fiery figure, it hurls the dark flame on its hand toward its opponent, Kaelen, already accustomed to dodging these relentless attacks, maneuvered awkwardly to the side, struggling with the weight and unfamiliarity of the sword in his hand. His movements were less fluid than he would have liked, each step was a reminder of his novice status with a sword. 

He didn't have time to think as the fiery figure keeps pressing him with a barrage of flames and aggressive lunges. Kaelen's heart raced as he barely managed to evade the scorching flames and the figure's relentless strikes. Each dodge was a gamble for a desperate attempt to survive.

As the one sided battle wore on, He started to notice subtle patterns in the figure's attacks and began to time his dodges more effectively. His awkward movement slowly giving way to a more controlled, though still hesitant, approach. A pivotal moment came—as Kaelen saw an opportunity. The figure, in a rare moment of hesitancy, left a critical opening. Summoning all his remaining strength and willpower, Kaelen gritted his teeth and lunged forward with the sword. The move itself was fueled by desperation on his part. 

The blade connected to the figure's heart, driving through the swirling dark flames.

The figure begin to recoiled, its resistance started to falter slowly but surely as the sword pierced its heart. A sudden, intense burst of dark flames began to ignite around the figure's body. The flames slowly flowed along the blade of the sword, continuing their path downward to its hilt until they entered Kaelen's body. The figure itself dissolved into a plume of dissipating smoke, leaving Kaelen standing wobbly amidst the fading embers of the battle, he nearly fell but used the sword as support to keep himself upright. 

Exhausted but triumphant. With a ragged breathing, Kaelen gazed at the night sky above him, his grip almost slipping off the hilt of the sword.