Rude Awakening

Idris shot forward, his speed and strength far beyond what one would expect from someone his age. His movements were sharp, relentless, each strike fueled by raw talent and sheer determination. He activated his mana, channeling it through his body to enhance his agility and power. Yet, despite his best efforts, Raella evaded every attack with unnerving ease.

"If it's like that, I guess I can get serious," Idris muttered, his voice tinged with both frustration and excitement.

Flames erupted from the soles of his feet, spiraling upward in a controlled inferno, engulfing him completely. The fire molded itself into the shape of a humanoid phoenix, its wings flickering and surging with violent energy. The sheer intensity of his mana caused the air to distort around him, heatwaves rippling outward.

The moment his transformation completed, an overwhelming presence radiated from him—his power now leagues beyond what it had been moments before. Faster. Stronger.

Without hesitation, he extended his hand, and the flames coalesced into a spear, its blazing tip crackling with destructive energy. With newfound force, he lunged at Raella once more, his attacks no longer wild but refined, each thrust and slash carrying immense weight. The sheer pressure of his strikes sent shockwaves through the air, making the watching students instinctively recoil. Even from a distance, they could feel the searing heat.

Would they even survive a direct hit from one of those?

But it didn't matter.

Raella was simply on another level.

She moved with effortless grace, her every step perfectly timed, her every motion calculated to the finest detail. To her, Idris' attacks were meaningless—dangerous, perhaps, but never a real threat. She dodged without strain, weaving through his offensive as if she were dancing through the flames rather than avoiding them.

It was as if Idris didn't even exist in her eyes.

Eden's perception sharpened as he observed Raella closely. Despite the intensity of the battle, she had yet to activate her mana.

How monstrous… he thought.

The fight continued for another five minutes, with Idris unleashing a relentless barrage of devastating attacks. Each strike carried the might of the Phoenix martial art—one of the most formidable techniques Eden had ever seen. It wasn't just raw power; it was refined, controlled, and terrifyingly efficient.

Could my own art even stand against it? he wondered. Probably not. That meant Idris' martial art had to be at least SSS rank—an extremely powerful legacy, one inherited only by the strongest.

But even the might of an SSS rank technique had its limits.

Idris was slowing down; his mana reserves were rapidly depleting, and each breath grew heavier with the effort. In a desperate bid, he shed his flame-forged armor, watching it dissolve into scattered embers. Instead of the usual sweeping, uniform wave of flame, he redirected his remaining power into a more chaotic assault.

Each swing of his spear wasn't just a simple strike—it exploded in a burst of incendiary force. With every upward slash, unpredictable bursts of heat and sparks erupted, sending jagged arcs of flame that danced erratically toward Raella. The fire roared and splintered the air around him, creating localized explosions that made it impossible for even the keenest-eyed disciple to anticipate its path.

This wasn't the measured, predictable release of mana that everyone else employed. It was raw, volatile, and utterly unique—a desperate, almost reckless display of power as Idris fought against the draining of his strength.

Yet, to Raella, it all moved at a snail's pace.

She could have evaded the attacks easily, continued toying with him without breaking a sweat—but this wasn't just a battle. It was a lesson.

With a flick of her wrist, she activated her mana.

Flames of her own erupted around her, but they were different—denser, hotter, more absolute. The moment they surged to life, they consumed Idris' attacks without resistance, snuffing them out as if they had never existed. The disciples watching were stunned. An SSS rank martial art had been rendered meaningless in an instant.

Idris froze, his body trembling as exhaustion set in. He clenched his fists, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. He had given everything he had. And yet…

He looked up at Raella, his voice hoarse. "Just how wide… is the gap between us?"

Raella met his gaze, her expression unreadable. Then, she spoke, her voice firm but not unkind.

"If this had been a real battle, you would be dead."

The words cut deep, but she continued without hesitation. "Don't let your background make you overconfident, Idris. Strength isn't inherited. Power isn't guaranteed. The world won't be as forgiving as I am."

Idris swallowed hard, his pride bruised, but he said nothing.

Raella then turned her gaze toward the rest of the disciples, her eyes sweeping over them.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you."

Silence fell over the training grounds as they awaited her next words.

"You're all just standing there," Raella said, her voice cutting through the silence. "You should be helping your fellow disciple."

She crossed her arms, a faint smile playing on her lips before she added, "If anyone manages to touch me, I will grant each of you one wish. And two wishes for whoever actually lands the hit."

The training grounds fell deathly silent.

The weight of her words settled over the disciples like a crashing wave. A wish from Raella Saint? Someone as powerful and influential as her—was there anything in the world she couldn't accomplish?

The offer was so tempting that even Ceris, who had remained disinterested up until now, finally turned her attention to the fight. A flicker of something unfamiliar crossed her usually unreadable face—determination.

For the first time, she looked like she was considering stepping in.

Eden

And so it began.

The moment Raella made her proposal, the others charged in without hesitation. They had seen firsthand how overwhelming she was in a one-on-one battle against Idris, so from the very start, they activated their mana to its fullest extent, unleashing their strongest attacks.

Ceris was the first to move. Eden watched as her mana manifested, and from his perspective, it was a mesmerizing sight—a delicate dance between ice and fire, the particles intertwining seamlessly. To the others, what appeared was a pale blue flame, almost white in color, mirroring her eyes and hair. It was a stark contrast to the flames of Idris and Raella. While Idris's fire sought to burn everything in its path, and Raella's fire dominated all before it, Ceris's flames carried an unnatural cold, freezing the very air around her.

Nyxen followed suit, finally getting serious. A sword materialized in his hands, its edge glowing with his light element. Without wasting a second, he unleashed a flurry of strikes, each one infused with radiant energy. At the same time, Ceris advanced, her cold fire amplifying both her attacks and her movements. There was an elegance to the way she fought, almost like a dance, each step seamlessly flowing into the next. Eden immediately recognized it—the Sinclair martial art.

A legacy refined over two centuries, passed down to each generation's future clan head, perfected through the blood, sweat, and innovation of countless predecessors. It was a battle art not given but earned, the culmination of hundreds of years of dedication.

The fourth combatant, whose voice had revealed her to be a girl, moved with careful precision. As soon as the others engaged Raella, she slipped into position, attempting to attack from the blind spot. A bow manifested in her hands, and with a smooth draw, she conjured mana-infused arrows, loosing them in rapid succession. Each shot was timed perfectly, striking when Raella's attention seemed most divided.

And then there was Idris, undeterred despite the crushing defeat he had just suffered. He rejoined the fray, charging in headfirst once more, his relentless flames flaring wildly around him.

It was a coordinated assault—four of the strongest disciples attacking in unison.

Yet it still wasn't enough.

Raella barely reacted. With nothing more than a flicker of her mana, she deflected the incoming arrows effortlessly, as though they were mere inconveniences. In the same breath, she weaved between Nyxen's slashes and Ceris's frozen flames, dodging their attacks like she was moving through a slow-motion illusion. Then, with a single punch, she shattered Idris's offensive and sent him flying back, his body skidding across the training ground.

The others pressed on, refusing to relent, but the truth was becoming terrifyingly clear—Raella wasn't even trying. She was smiling. Not with condescension, but with amusement, as if she were simply playing a game.

From start to finish, they had never been in control.

This group, the strongest prodigies of their generation, had been completely under her thumb. She wasn't fighting seriously—she was toying with them.

And yet, Eden had yet to move.

He had no interest in the so-called "wish granted" reward. That was never how he operated. He wanted to earn everything himself, through his own power. Besides, the longer he remained unnoticed, the longer he could keep his abilities hidden.

But then, just as the last of the group began to falter, Raella turned her attention to him.

And she started walking forward.

"I do not care for the wish, and I do not wish to be pummeled like them," Eden said, gripping his training sword.

Raella glanced at the others—unconscious, sprawled across the ground, yet uninjured. A testament to her absolute control.

If they couldn't stand against her, how was he supposed to fare any better? He was weaker than the rest. And now, he was alone.

"I see you're scared, Eden," Raella said, amusement lacing her tone. "But when did you get to choose? This lesson isn't for four—it's for all five of you. A team must endure hardships together to grow."

Before the last word had fully left her lips, she moved.

In an instant, she was upon him. A fist, swift and precise, cut through the air toward his head.

Eden had expected this based on the way she was talking, so he activated Time Sight just in time to be able to dodge the attack. He pivoted, just narrowly avoiding the strike. A cold sweat trickled down his neck—she was faster than he anticipated.

Lightning crackled across his body as he surged forward, sword in hand. If she wanted a fight, he'd give her one.

Raella 

The group had fared far better than she had expected—perhaps the strongest batch she'd ever trained. And that said a lot, considering every one of her disciples had gone on to become pillars of humanity.

But as the battle raged, she noticed one thing. Eden was missing.

She had always known he was hiding something. Even now, as she dodged a strike from Nyxen, her thoughts drifted back to the time she caught Eden training in secret. His movements had been sharp, precise, without a single wasted motion. Not like a recruit still finding his footing, but like a seasoned warrior. And then there was the way he had sensed her approaching before she had even opened the door.

Now, as she studied him from across the battlefield, she saw it again. He had changed again. He was much stronger than that day, just like how he was much stronger that day than he was during the interviews. Eden was growing at an extremely fast pace.

Curious, she decided to test him. She pressed harder against the others, her strikes harsher, her pace relentless. One by one, they fell, their bodies hitting the ground in exhaustion until none remained standing.

And then, only Eden was left.

Turning her attention to him, she couldn't keep the grin off her face. This... this was exciting.

She hadn't had this much fun in a long time. This was why she missed having disciples.

She rushed toward Eden—faster than she had been with the others.

Yet when she threw her attack, he simply dodged.

Her fist sliced through the air, missing his face by barely a centimeter. And in that same instant—lightning crackled across his body. The air hummed with energy as he swung his sword—a simple upward slash, yet executed with such flawless precision that it sent a thrill through her being.

His reaction time. His instinct. The way he instantly devised a counterattack. It was leagues beyond the others.

Raella twisted, dodging with ease. She retaliated—only for Eden to evade again. And again. And again.

The battlefield became their stage, the two of them locked in a relentless exchange—a deadly, intricate dance. Each strike met only air, each attack countered before it could land. With every failed blow, Raella's excitement burned hotter.

Not only had Eden awakened his mana attribute but he had gained so much control over it. It was clear that he had spent all of his days training in preparation for this school year. However, that begged the question.

How exactly was he sensing her? How was he fighting as if he already knew everything she was going to do? The more she learned about him the more intrigued she became. He was by far the physically weakest of the group, yet it was clear—his mind was the strongest.

And in her philosophy, a greater mind would always triumph over greater strength, as long as it had the right teacher and enough guidance. 

Eden

The fight was torturous.

Even while combining Time Sight with the experience inherited from his legacy, Eden barely survived each exchange—dodging by the thinnest margins. Every move was calculated, every counterattack executed with precision—yet none landed.

It wasn't enough.

Even at his absolute best, the gap between them was simply too vast. Raella wasn't just stronger—she was analyzing him in real time. With every passing second, she adapted, unraveling his fighting style piece by piece.

She read his martial techniques. She picked apart his mana control. She dismantled the way he fought down to the smallest, most minute detail.

And once she had figured him out, it was over.

Her attacks began to land—one after another. His, meanwhile, drifted further from their mark. Eden fought to adjust, to change his rhythm, but she was always a step ahead.

Eventually came the final blow.

His body collapsed, his mind slipping into darkness.

...

Raella exhaled, surveying the battlefield.

Her disciples lay scattered around her, all unconscious—but none broken. Her gaze lingered on Eden, the last to fall. The weakest in raw strength. The blind one.

And yet—he had lasted the longest.

His cunning in battle had been extraordinary, his instincts razor-sharp. He had fought as though he'd lived through a thousand battles, pushing himself to his absolute limit.

A true genius in combat.

A satisfied smile crossed her lips as she gathered them up, bringing them back to her office. She called in a favor from an old friend—someone with a healing ability—to patch them up.

Shortly after, the students stirred, regaining consciousness one by one.

They found themselves exactly where they had started—in Raella's office. But this time, the mood was very different.