CROSSING POWER LIMITS

The sun rose over the Mythic Base with a golden brilliance, casting long shadows across the training ground as the day began. Dew shimmered on the grassy patches between polished stone paths, and faint mist hung low near the surrounding walls. For the Mythic-ranked Echelon Knights, today was not just another day of drills or basic exercises. Today, something was in the air—a sense of purpose, a brewing change. It was a day that would mark a turning point.

As the base buzzed into activity, Arslan stood at the edge of the training ground, wearing his dark hoodie over sleeveless training gear. His hair was messy as usual, strands sticking slightly from the recent bath, and his eyes glinted with quiet resolve. Behind him, the other Mythics began to arrive, forming groups, talking, stretching. There was a subtle electricity between them all.

"Everyone looks charged today," Vaelith Ren said, tossing his long coat over a bench as he adjusted the wrappings on his hands.

"You feel it too, huh?" replied Nirela Quen, her silver-moon eyes glowing faintly as she swayed her fingers, light streams forming elegant patterns in the air. "Something's stirring in all of us."

Tharion Vale slammed his foot into the ground, causing a small tremor. "Enough talk. Let's see who can shatter their limits today."

The training ground soon filled with kinetic energy. Arslan began his session with sprints across the width of the stone floor, his movements crisp, coordinated, faster than ever before. His steps were almost soundless, his breath steady, precise. After each lap, he shifted into shadow maneuvers, blending in and out using the Phantom Rift partially to teleport between shadow anchors he himself created. But he wasn't using his full dark arsenal—this was about perfecting flow, about merging instinct with execution.

Meanwhile, across the ground, Seris Vahla activated her toxin channels, sending blooming green mist from her palms that coiled into deadly ribbons, striking at illusionary targets with newfound accuracy. Beside her, Kyren Daxe activated his Heat Pulse, drawing heat lines in the air like solar threads.

Maelis Kyrn and Yuna Solthrae worked together, testing healing field convergence. Maelis summoned plant barriers while Yuna pushed healing pulses through them, amplifying both defense and recovery. Vaelith, ever the strategist, stood back briefly, observing everyone before finally stepping in with Life Restoration bursts that combined with Seris' toxins to form a purifying contrast.

Then a shout drew everyone's attention.

"Woah! Look at Orien!"

Orien Dravell had formed a Soulflash vortex with both hands, a swirling mix of spectral blue and gold around his body. It hovered for a few seconds, then blasted outward like a celestial eruption.

"That wasn't part of his usual output," Elyra Thorne noted, visibly impressed.

"We're all evolving," Tarric Vohl grinned as he charged his Thunderstep with renewed intensity, chaining rapid flashes and striking through obstacles like a lightning serpent.

By mid-morning, nearly every Mythic had showcased something new. Even the quieter ones like Zhalya Neris had elevated their Blood Sight, tracking hidden auras within a complex obstacle course. Malrik Envor carved sigils mid-air using Rune Surge with such fluidity that they hovered and activated autonomously.

Arslan continued his practice on raw physical strength, engaging in core training, sprint-resistance, jump impacts, and precision maneuvers with each of his weapons. First came the Shadow Blades—thin, fast, and forged for finesse. Then came the Dark Bow, his ranged partner. He practiced long-range shots, chaining them with dash techniques. The Dark Shield flickered on command, blocking even the fastest stone shots. The newly added Crimson Verge pulsed with faint red tendrils each time it struck.

Finally, he summoned the Abyssal Fangs. Their clawed, jagged form complemented his brawler instincts. Each move became smoother, deadlier.

A few teammates noticed.

"Your movement's getting sharper," said Ismere Daeva, the Blood Echo user. "Especially your blade-handling."

"Still too slow," Arslan muttered with a smirk.

They shared a few mock jabs and laughter followed. The tension of constant training began to melt into a sense of camaraderie. Everyone seemed lighter today, despite how far they had pushed themselves.

During a break under a shaded corner, Ravik Durn passed around fruit water while Seris teased Tharion about his earlier stumble during a power clash.

"The ground fought back!" he exclaimed defensively.

"Sure it did," Seris laughed, elbowing Elyra, who giggled.

"At least I didn't melt my shoes," Tharion shot back.

Arslan sat near Nirela, both sipping from chilled cups. She smiled at him.

"Today was...something else. You helped push everyone just by being you."

"I didn't do anything special," he replied humbly.

"You did. We all feel it. You're rising, and it helps us rise too."

He looked away slightly, cheeks tinged. "Then I guess I have to keep pushing."

Laughter roared from a corner where Kyren and Tarric were arm-wrestling with Caelis as referee. Bets were thrown, and everyone joined in to heckle, laugh, and bond.

The day ended not with fatigue, but with a shared sense of triumph.

Each Knight, covered in sweat, with bruises and beaming smiles, had discovered something new within themselves—a skill, a strength, or a spark. But more than that, they had grown closer. They had formed a unit not just of ranks and power, but of trust.

As the sun began to set, the orange light falling over the training ground cast long silhouettes of warriors who had dared to cross their limits.

And among them, stood Arslan—still training, still perfecting.

Because for him, the journey was just beginning.