Rivalries and Lessons

The sun hung low over the training grounds, casting long shadows as Kael and his group stepped out of the trial chamber. Their bodies ached, their clothes were torn, and the stench of battle clung to them like a second skin. Yet, the moment they crossed the threshold, a surge of accomplishment coursed through them.

Commander Ragnor stood before them, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"You survived. Good." His eyes flickered over each of them, analyzing their wounds, their posture, their will. "But survival alone does not make you warriors. Strength means nothing without control."

Kael took a deep breath, steadying himself. The weight of the battle still lingered, but he refused to show weakness.

The silver-haired boy, who had introduced himself as Reinhardt, scoffed, brushing dust off his sleeves. "I don't see the problem. We handled the beast. That should be enough proof of our worth."

A sharp laugh cut through the air.

A new voice—deep, confident, laced with amusement.

Kael turned toward the source.

A tall figure leaned casually against the arena's stone railing. His dark crimson hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Unlike the others, he wore no armor, only a long black coat draped over his shoulders.

"Handled? Oh, please." The man straightened, stepping forward. "That fight was a mess. I almost died watching it."

Kael tensed. Something about this man's presence demanded attention. The way he moved, the way he spoke—it was as if he controlled the very air around him.

Commander Ragnor merely smirked. "You have something to say, Kain?"

The man—Kain Valtros—shrugged. "Only that these rookies need to be put in their place."

Reinhardt narrowed his eyes. "And you are?"

Kain chuckled, tilting his head. "Kain Valtros. Third-year elite. Top of the rankings. Oh, and unlike you, I don't need a group to fight my battles."

Tension crackled in the air.

Kael could feel the irritation radiating off Reinhardt. The silver-haired boy didn't take insults lightly.

Before Reinhardt could respond, a new voice joined the conversation.

"Enough, Kain."

A woman approached, her long silver hair flowing behind her like a river of moonlight. She wore a simple combat uniform, yet there was an elegance to her every movement, a grace that hinted at untold power.

Kain smirked but held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Just having a little fun, Sera."

Kael recognized the name. Seraphina Alistair—one of the strongest students in the academy, known for her mastery of Future Armor.

She turned her piercing gaze toward Kael and his group. "You did well in the trial. But don't let victory cloud your judgment. This is only the beginning."

Kael nodded. "We understand."

She studied him for a moment before shifting her gaze to Reinhardt. "And you. You rely too much on your ability. Strength is nothing without discipline."

Reinhardt scowled but said nothing.

Kain chuckled. "Told you she's scary."

Seraphina ignored him. "Come. The next phase of training begins now."

The First Lesson

The recruits were led into an open courtyard where various training dummies, weapons, and obstacles were arranged. Other students watched from the sidelines, some whispering among themselves.

Commander Ragnor stepped forward. "The first trial tested your survival instincts. But now, we focus on mastery."

With a snap of his fingers, several elite students stepped forward—Kain, Seraphina, and three others.

"You will each be assigned a mentor. Your goal is simple: land a single hit on them."

A murmur spread through the recruits. Land a hit? Against these elites?

Reinhardt smirked. "Sounds easy."

Kain grinned. "You say that now."

Kael was assigned to Seraphina.

She stood calmly before him, her arms crossed. "You may use any technique you wish. Show me what you've learned."

Kael took a steadying breath. He clenched his fists, activating his Vanquish Armor. A golden glow surged around his arms, crackling with energy.

Then he moved.

He lunged forward, fists aiming for her torso.

But in the blink of an eye—

She was gone.

Before he could react, a firm hand tapped his shoulder from behind.

Kael whirled around, heart pounding.

Seraphina stood there, unimpressed. "Too slow."

Kael gritted his teeth. She's faster than I thought.

He tried again. A feint, then a low kick, followed by a rapid punch.

Again—she dodged effortlessly, stepping around him like a breeze.

The third time, he unleashed everything. A full-force Vanquish punch, his energy roaring to life.

But Seraphina merely lifted a single finger.

"Stop."

And just like that—his energy vanished.

Kael stumbled back, gasping. His power had been completely nullified.

Seraphina sighed. "You're relying too much on brute force. Power without precision is wasted."

Kael clenched his fists. He knew she was right. He had strength—but against someone like her, raw power wasn't enough.

Meanwhile, Reinhardt was faring no better against Kain.

"Tch—stay still!" Reinhardt snarled, his gravitational attacks missing every time.

Kain dodged with lazy ease, yawning. "You're predictable, kid. Maybe try thinking before attacking?"

Reinhardt growled, launching another attack—but Kain vanished and reappeared behind him, flicking his forehead.

"Too slow."

Reinhardt stumbled forward, cursing.

The other recruits weren't faring much better.

The warhammer-wielding boy, Garek, tried to land a blow on his mentor but ended up face-first in the dirt.

The violet-haired girl, Lyria, attempted to outmaneuver her opponent but was caught mid-air and tossed aside.

Even the younger spear-wielding recruit, Finn, found himself disarmed within seconds.

It was humiliating.

Kael wiped sweat from his brow. He had never felt so outmatched.

Commander Ragnor watched in silence. Then he stepped forward.

"Enough."

The training halted.

Ragnor's gaze swept over them. "What have you learned?"

No one spoke.

Seraphina crossed her arms. "They rely too much on their gifts."

Kain grinned. "They have potential. But potential isn't enough."

Ragnor nodded. "This academy does not train warriors. It trains legends. If you cannot push past your limits, you do not belong here."

Kael clenched his fists.

He refused to be left behind.

Seraphina met his gaze. "Do you want to improve?"

Kael straightened. "Yes."

Her lips curled into a rare smile. "Then prove it."

A New Rivalry

As the day ended, the recruits returned to their quarters, exhausted.

Kael sat on his bed, replaying the fight in his head. He had been too reckless. Too direct. He needed strategy.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

It was Reinhardt.

The silver-haired boy leaned against the frame, arms crossed. "You and I—let's settle something."

Kael raised an eyebrow. "Settle what?"

Reinhardt smirked. "I don't like losing. And I don't like being second place. So from now on—you're my rival."

Kael blinked. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.

"Fine by me."