The atmosphere in the combat training hall was electric.
The vast arena, built from enchanted stone, pulsed with residual mana from years of battles. Spectator balconies lined the upper walls, and arcane reinforcement sigils glowed faintly beneath their feet.
A massive man strode onto the training field, his sheer presence making the air feel heavier.
Lord Ignatius Pyros, a Dragonkin of towering stature, had skin like molten bronze and battle scars etched across his arms. His golden reptilian eyes gleamed with untamed fury, and each breath he exhaled carried embers.
He wore no formal robes—only a sleeveless combat uniform, exposing his bulging muscles, covered in burn marks from his own flames.
When he spoke, his voice was a thunderclap.
"Listen up, weaklings!" he barked, his arms crossed. "This isn't a classroom. This is a battlefield."
Some students flinched. Others straightened.
"Today, you will fight." Ignatius' gaze swept over the assembled students like a predator scanning for prey. "You will break, you will bleed, and you will learn what real combat is."
Then—he grinned, sharp teeth glinting.
"And if you're lucky, you'll survive."
Silence.
Even the arrogant noble students didn't dare speak.
Then—
"Pair up."
Students immediately began shifting, forming pairs.
Leon Valerius instantly turned to Evelyn, who rolled her eyes but accepted.
Elaine paired with Morganna without hesitation.
Sylara Ilthariel was surrounded by other elves, one of whom she finally nodded to.
Kieran Azurios smirked as he gestured for one of his water-aligned subordinates to join him.
Rael Thunderfang and Lyria Starfang, the two Beastkin warriors, naturally gravitated toward each other.
Dain Drakonis cracked his knuckles, looking for a challenge.
Lunara and Veylen Nightshade, the Vampire Twins, simply paired with each other.
And then—
Alistair remained standing alone.
He could feel it.
The way students subconsciously glanced at him—but then quickly looked away.
The unspoken understanding.
They knew.
Deep down, even if they didn't say it aloud, they knew.
Alistair Vaelthorne was not normal.
Even those who had never fought him directly sensed it—the unnatural pressure in the air, the way his gaze felt heavier than anyone else's.
Fighting him wasn't just risky.
It was suicidal.
No one wanted to be the one to test him.
The silence stretched too long.
Leon, already beside Evelyn, let out a low chuckle.
"What's wrong?" he said, loud enough for the others to hear. "Afraid of the exiled Vaelthorne?"
Some students tensed—not because they disagreed, but because Leon had said it out loud.
Alistair didn't react.
He simply turned his black eyes toward Leon.
And for a moment—just a moment—Leon's smirk faltered.
Because that gaze wasn't normal.
It wasn't angry. It wasn't irritated.
It was simply cold.
As if Alistair was deciding whether or not Leon was worth acknowledging.
Evelyn noticed the shift and placed a hand on Leon's shoulder, giving him a silent warning.
Leon clicked his tongue and looked away.
"Tch. Whatever."
The tension was broken when Ignatius suddenly let out a booming laugh.
"Hah! Look at you spineless cowards!" He grinned, flames licking at the corners of his mouth.
"No one wants to fight Vaelthorne?" He rolled his shoulders. "Pathetic."
Then—
His golden reptilian eyes locked onto Alistair.
"You." He pointed. "Looks like you're too damn scary."
Alistair didn't respond.
Ignatius' grin widened.
"Fine. Since none of these children have the guts to fight you..." He gestured toward the far side of the arena.
"Then you'll fight me."
Leon's smirk vanished.
Even Sylvara, who was always composed, turned her head sharply.
Because Ignatius Pyros wasn't just an instructor.
He was an A Rank Dragonkin Warlord.
And he had just challenged a first-year student.
Then—
"I'll limit myself to D+ Rank."
The tension in the room shifted.
The overwhelming gap between them vanished in an instant.
Ignatius had made it fair.
He wasn't using his full power.
Now—this was a real test.
Alistair blinked.
Then—
He smiled.
It wasn't arrogance.
It wasn't excitement.
It was cold amusement.
"Alright," he said.
And he stepped forward.
Students instinctively backed away, forming a wide circle.
Even the instructors—watching from the balconies above—turned their attention to this fight.
***
Ignatius Cracked His Knuckles
"Let's see if you're worth the fear they give you," he growled, his body radiating heat.
Alistair merely tilted his head.
"You talk too much."
Ignatius' grin widened.
"Then let's skip the warm-up."
And with explosive force—
He attacked.
The moment Ignatius moved, the ground beneath him shattered.
His speed—despite limiting himself to D+ Rank—was monstrous.
A blur of bronze and fire, he closed the distance between them in an instant, his massive fist wreathed in flames as he launched a devastating punch straight at Alistair's chest.
BOOM!
The air cracked as the force of the punch obliterated the ground where Alistair had stood—
Alistair sidestepped at the last second, the heat from the flames scorching the edges of his uniform.
His black eyes remained calm—calculating.
Ignatius wasn't just brute strength—he was a battle-hardened warlord.
Every movement, every attack, was a chain reaction leading into another strike.
And sure enough—
Here comes the follow-up.
Ignatius twisted mid-motion, spinning with the momentum of his first strike. His elbow came flying toward Alistair's ribs.
Fast. Precise. Unrelenting.
Alistair leaned back—barely dodging—
And countered.
His right hand shot forward, fingers curling around the hilt of his sword.
SHING!
A flash of silver and black cut through the air.
Ignatius narrowed his eyes—
And caught the blade with his bare hand.
The moment Ignatius' palm gripped the blade, sparks exploded between them.
Alistair didn't hesitate.
He twisted the blade, redirecting the force, his movements smooth—flawless.
Ignatius grunted as the sword slipped from his grip, forcing him to retreat two steps.
The students watching from the sidelines gasped.
Most of them hadn't even seen what happened.
Leon's jaw clenched.
Elaine's green eyes narrowed.
Morganna's lips curled into a smirk.
Because they understood.
This wasn't just speed.
This wasn't just power.
This was swordsmanship mastery—the kind that took a lifetime to perfect.
And yet—
Ignatius still held the advantage.
He grinned, rolling his shoulder. "Not bad, kid."
Then—he vanished.
Too fast!
Alistair barely had time to react before Ignatius was behind him—flames roaring to life around his fists.
"Breakthrough Strike."
A downward punch, reinforced with condensed fire mana, aimed straight at Alistair's back.
For the first time—
Alistair's instincts screamed.
This would hurt.
No.
This would break him.
Unless—
He stopped holding back.
Something deep inside him stirred.
An energy he hadn't yet fully grasped.
His Aura.
****
The moment Alistair let go, a dark, suffocating pressure exploded outward.
The air shuddered.
A shockwave rippled through the arena, forcing students to take a step back—
And even Ignatius paused mid-attack.
Because suddenly—
Alistair's presence changed.
His black hair fluttered as his aura manifested around him, black swirling like an abyss.
It wasn't polished.
It wasn't controlled.
But it was powerful.
A force that is not fully controled—yet even now, it was terrifying.
For the first time—Ignatius Pyros' grin faded.
This wasn't normal at such age.
And yet—Alistair stood before him, his black eyes glowing faintly in the flickering light.
"I see," Ignatius muttered.
Then—he grinned wider than before.
"Good."
He charged again.
And this time—Alistair met him head-on.
CLASH!
The moment their attacks met, the entire arena shook.
Alistair's swordsmanship, now enhanced by his aura, became even more deadly.
Each strike—calculated.
Each movement—refined.
But Ignatius wasn't just a brute.
He adapted—matching Alistair's speed, countering with sheer raw power.
It was a battle of skill versus might.
And for the first time—
It was equal.
The Students Watched in Stunned Silence
Leon's fingers tightened around his sword.
Evelyn's lips parted slightly, eyes flickering with something unreadable.
Elaine's grip on her twin blades tightened.
Morganna let out a low chuckle. "Now this is interesting."
Because they understood.
Alistair Vaelthorne wasn't just strong.
He was dangerous.
And the fact that he had awakened his aura this early—
Meant that he wasn't even close to reaching his full potential.
Ignatius' eyes burned with excitement.
"This is what I wanted to see!" he roared, raising his fist for one last, explosive strike.
Alistair shifted his stance, sword gleaming with abyssal energy—
Their final attacks collided—
And the arena erupted in blinding light.
(To Be Continued...)