Gosen stepped forward, raising his staff. The air around him stirred with building energy.
He was about to speak—
A deep silence fell over the Glacien Yard, thick with anticipation. Frostbitten wind whistled through the frozen arches as Master Gosen slammed the butt of his staff into the ice.
BOOM!
A pulse of energy surged outward, shaking the sigil beneath their feet. The runes around the arena flared to life, casting a ghostly blue glow across the students—each glow demanding their attention.
The Frostblades stood in pairs, widely spread across the battlefield.
Then, Gosen commanded:
"Take your stance."
His voice was firm and commanding.
Twelve pairs of students adjusted their footing. The battlefield surrounded Gosen entirely as his eyes scanned them. In a blink, he teleported across several positions, correcting the stances of some students. With a final flash, he returned to the center of the arena.
His voice rang out once more.
"Your stance and aura control are basics you must never ignore."
His tone sharpened.
"Uncontrolled aura is a double-edged blade. It will burn through your body. It will alert your enemies before you strike. It will corrupt your familiar. Or worse—it will turn your own magic against you."
He swept his gaze across the students. Their eyes locked on their partners. Ears open. Focus sharp. Gosen gave a curt nod.
"You must learn to feel your aura like blood in your veins—to know when to expand it, when to still it. When to mask it, and when to roar."
He took a deep breath, then added,
"The mind is your first blade. You must fight calmly. Think in unison with your actions. The blade may strike—but the mind gives it precision."
A short pause. His next words weighed heavy:
"Your ability may be unique—or it may be common. But what truly counts is your ability to adapt. Here at Gallus, frost ability oversees all others."
The students' minds cleared of stray thoughts. Eyes locked on their partners. Ears captured every word riding on the wind.
Then came the final command.
"The person you spar with today may become your right hand throughout your time at Gallus. Don't just push them—move in rhythm with them. Understand them. Rise together."
He inhaled, then declared:
"BEGIN!"
The Glacien Yard erupted. Sparks of aura lit the arena. Gosen didn't follow their steps with his eyes—he tracked them by their auras.
At Kiato's battlefield—
"Why do you fight?" Kiato asked as Veylor charged at him.
CLANG!
Their aura-forged blades clashed, crackling with power.
"Quiet," Veylor growled.
He backflipped away, voice sharp:
"Mist Ability: Dark Coven."
A black mist engulfed the battlefield, forming a dense, cube-shaped barrier.
Kiato's aura flared. In an instant, the temperature skyrocketed.
"Flame Ability: Solar Fang—First Call."
A blazing aura enveloped him. The air rippled. His cloak turned pale red. His hair darkened, giving him the look of a near-Infernal.
The heat vaporized the dark mist and even began to melt the ice of the Glacien Yard. Battles nearby paused. Eyes turned toward the furnace that Kiato had become.
Veylor barely escaped the scorched zone by leaping high—but the moisture on his body evaporated instantly.
Still, his movements were far more precise than they had been during the tryouts. And Kiato? He wasn't holding back either.
"If you won't calm down and forge a path" Kiato shouted, voice laced with power, "then I'll turn your pride into humility!"
He blasted into the air, flame rocketing from his feet. Gaining altitude, he launched a flaming kick downward—
BOOM!
Veylor hit the icy ground hard. Cracks spread from the impact. The ice hissed, attempting to quell the flames. He coughed up blood—but stood again.
BOOM!
Another kick slammed into his back.
"Answer me!" Kiato roared. "Why do you fight, Veylor!?"
But Veylor remained silent.
Then—
Fourteen years ago, Kryst Residence.
A small village. A warm family dinner. Laughter filled the room—Veylor, his mother, and his two younger sisters, Ella and Bella.
Suddenly, the front door burst open.
Three masked men in black stormed inside. Panic. Screams. Chaos.
Veylor's mother stood up, trembling but defiant.
"Leave us alone!" she demanded.
The intruders laughed.
One stepped forward.
"She might've sold better if her bosom was bigger," he sneered.
A flash. A scream. Her head hit the ground.
Veylor froze—powerless. Voiceless.
The next man moved. Inhumanly fast. Vile magic tore through her body. Her organs spilled. Blood splashed across the walls.
Ella and Bella stood paralyzed in terror. Veylor signaled for them to run—but they didn't move.
With no other choice, he turned and ran.
He didn't stop—even as the sounds of his sisters being devoured echoed behind him.
He ran... and kept running.
Every day since, he asked one thing:
"Why did they spare me?"
The guilt grew like a curse. The thirst for vengeance replaced the innocence that was lost. And with each day, his mind spiraled deeper into that night.
Back to the present—
Veylor slammed into the arena wall. Bones cracked. He trembled, barely standing.
Kiato charged again—
"You wouldn't understand!" Veylor screamed.
Kiato stopped. His flames softened. The fury dimmed.
"Then make me understand," he said, voice steady.
Veylor collapsed to his knees.
Tears fell.
"The burden of losing the ones you love. The helplessness... that feeling when you can't save them."
He looked up at the sky.
"And your last option... is selfishness."
Kiato's face softened. His own past reflected in those words.
"You're not the only one who's lost someone," he replied. "You're not the only one who's felt helpless."
Veylor met his gaze—seeing the pain Kiato carried too.
"We all carry burdens. Every one of us. But what makes us whole... is the will to rise. To fight for a future that honors the ones we lost."
Kiato walked closer, placing a hand on Veylor's shoulder.
"You either eat your emotions—or let them eat you. So, Veylor… what will it be?"
The entire arena was stunned. One question filled their minds:
"The psycho had such an emotionally weak aura...?"
Seraphina stood nearby, hands pressed to her chest, eyes watering.
"He never ceases to amaze me," she whispered.
Veylor looked at Kiato. His aura shifted—from pale red to golden yellow. The weight of impurity began to fade.
"How about we create our first two-man combat technique?"
Kiato grinned, arms wide for a hug—
SMACK!
Veylor slapped him.
"Don't embarrass me, you fool. A whole crowd is watching."
Kiato rubbed his cheek, smiling sheepishly. He turned to the crowd, hand behind his head.
Laughter erupted. Applause followed.
Master Gosen smirked.
"That's a bond well formed."
Veylor stepped forward, pressing his palms together in a respectful salute. He bowed slightly.
"Veylor Kryst. Abilities—Frost and Mist."
The crowd burst into cheers.
"Welcome aboard, Veylor."
Mr Gosen declared.