Being surrounded by the three rebels, Shawn was calm—scary calm. His posture was relaxed, almost disinterested, but his eyes—those cold, calculating eyes—studied every twitch, every breath, every intent that leaked from his enemies. The rebels had blood on their hands and years of experience behind their blades. But Shawn had faced his own hells, stared death in the eye, and crawled back from the brink. He wasn't arrogant. He couldn't afford to be. But there was a fine line between arrogance and confidence—and right now, Shawn walked that line like a blade.
Using Sound Tide, a sensory art that let him read vibrations and ambient noise like a second sight, he gauged their strength. Ela, the artificial intelligence merged with his soul, confirmed it.
"The leader is a Warrior-ranked Vitral user. The other two are high-level Artisans. Approach with caution—Warrior-class opponents aren't to be taken lightly."
The difference between an Artisan and a Warrior wasn't always visible, but it was dangerous. A Warrior had crossed the threshold. Their mana was denser, their instincts sharper, their control nearly flawless.
But Shawn had something else—a trump card the rebels weren't aware of.
His bloodline had awakened not long ago, gifting him not just Wind—but Healing. His wounds closed as quickly as they opened. His vitality surged in battle. He was harder to kill now, and his enemies didn't know that. Yet.
A sneer curved across the leader's lips. He stepped forward, voice heavy with condescension.
"Kid, you had your chance. You could've walked away. But you chose to fight us. And now... you die. He who disturbs a lion's den should expect to be devoured."
The words had barely left his mouth when the three activated their Vitrals.
The leader slammed his fists into the ground—cracks split the earth beneath his feet as his Earth Vitral awakened, coating his arms in jagged, living stone. Beside him, the man on Shawn's left exhaled, and a dark mist oozed from his body, spreading like a plague. The third, younger and wiry, smiled maniacally as crackling blue lightning licked across his limbs.
Shawn's heart thumped. Fear flickered inside him—not the kind that froze you, but the kind that sharpens the mind. He inhaled deeply.
And then, with a sharp gust, he activated his own Vitral.
The wind exploded outward from his body, rippling across the field in fierce gales that flattened grass and stirred dust into mini-tornadoes. His cloak fluttered like wings, and his eyes took on a faint green glow.
Ela's voice rang in his mind again.
"Shawn, that mist—it's Poison. Highly corrosive. I can't confirm whether your healing bloodline can counteract it. Avoid contact at all costs."
Shawn clicked his tongue. "Poison, lightning, and stone. This just keeps getting better."
He narrowed his eyes toward the poison user. "I'll take care of him first. Can't have a fog of death trailing behind me."
With a burst of wind beneath his feet, Shawn vanished from sight.
The poison user stepped back instinctively, trying to thicken the mist around him, but it was too late.
Shawn roared.
A cyclone of wind erupted from his palms, tearing through the black mist like fire through paper. It crashed into the poison user, slamming him into the air. But just before Shawn could close the distance, the leader intervened.
The ground beneath Shawn exploded.
Stone shards—sharp, jagged, and fast as arrows—rained upward. He barely had time to react. He condensed the air into a thin shield, tried to redirect the stones, but the sheer number overwhelmed him. Pain lanced across his ribs and shoulders as a few connected.
He hit the ground hard—but only for a moment.
His bloodline lit up. Flesh mended, bones realigned, and breath returned.
The leader's eyes widened. "Two Vitrals?" he muttered with growing greed. "Healing and Wind. Boy... you're worth more than gold. Selling you will be a great boon for us."
"Too bad you won't live to sell me," Shawn growled, rising.
Shawn narrowed his eyes. The leader's words confirmed one thing—these rebels weren't just ambushing him for fun or sport. They had sniffed out his rare potential. That meant this wasn't going to be a fight he could end quickly. No, they were after him now, and they weren't planning to let him leave.
"Selling me? You'll be lucky to crawl away alive," Shawn said, wiping the blood off his lip, the faint sting already dulling thanks to his regenerative vitral.
The leader grinned but said nothing. Instead, he stomped the ground, causing jagged spikes of earth to jut out, trying to skewer Shawn from below. At the same time, the poison user flung a black orb of mist toward him, while the lightning wielder crackled to life and zipped into a blur.
Three fronts, one mistake away from death.
Shawn's wind vitral surged to life, responding to his heartbeat. He released a blast of wind that pushed him off the ground, just narrowly avoiding the skewering rocks. In midair, he twisted and compressed the wind beneath him, giving himself a floating hover. The black mist trailed after him like a vengeful ghost.
"Ela, keep your senses sharp. We need to isolate one," he muttered internally.
"Poison user is your best bet. He's the weakest physically, but his vitral is deadly. Don't breathe it in. Don't let it touch you," she warned.
"Noted."
Shawn narrowed his focus, ignoring the leader and the lightning user momentarily. With a sweep of his hand, he curved a slicing gale that cut through the trees and cleared the battlefield. The poison user's mist retreated momentarily—but only for a moment.
The enemy spread his hands and the mist surged like a crashing wave, dancing with malice. It hissed where it touched the grass, leaving blackened patches of decay.
"Disgusting," Shawn muttered, wind swirling around him like a cyclone. "Let's see you handle this."
He pushed forward.
The wind wrapped tightly around his arms, forming invisible gauntlets. He darted low, skimming above the ground, dancing through stone traps, and leapt through arcs of lightning. The poison user tried to veil himself again, but Shawn had already marked him. He was hiding behind a low tree, trying to stay at the rear while his teammates held the line.
"Found you."
Shawn summoned a burst of air beneath his feet and launched himself at high speed. The poison user barely had time to react. His eyes widened as Shawn pierced through the mist using a huge cyclone of wind condensed on his arm forming a slightly visible pale green blade
The man screamed as he was thrown backward into a tree with a crunch. But before Shawn could land a finishing blow, the ground beneath him exploded.
The leader had intervened.
Massive chunks of stone rose like a cage, attempting to imprison Shawn midair.
"You're not fast enough to outmaneuver all of us," the leader growled, hurling a giant slab of rock toward him.
But Shawn wasn't done yet. With a twist of his wrist, the wind gathered and compressed around his body. He also let his healing vitral surround him just incase the poison got in touch with him.
BOOM!
In an instant, he vanished from his trapped position and reappeared at the side of the poison user, who was still dazed. This time, Shawn didn't hesitate. He raised his hand and unleashed a vortex of wind directly into the man's chest at point-blank range.
The poison user coughed blood violently, eyes bulging. The black mist flickered and dispersed into thin strands. His vitral destabilized, the control gone.
"Poison user—down!" Ela confirmed.
The poison user slumped forward, unconscious or worse. Shawn didn't wait to check. He knew the other two were coming for him now.
"You bastard!" the lightning user growled, already charging at him in a zigzag flash of blue.
CRACK!
A bolt of electricity scorched the air where Shawn had stood a moment ago. He barely dodged, the edge of the blast grazing his shoulder. Pain flared, but it vanished as quickly as it came—his healing vitral kicking in.
"Ela, I can't keep healing forever. That lightning hurts."
"Then don't get hit again. You've pissed them off."
The leader growled, raising boulders from the ground and hurling them like meteors. Shawn leapt and dodged, using bursts of wind to shift directions in midair. He weaved through the chaos—lightning to his left, rocks from above—but there was fire in his eyes now.
He had momentum. He had rhythm. He had a plan.
"Ela, time for some finesse. You ready?"
"Always."
He kicked off a rock midair and launched toward the lightning user. Feinting left, he twisted mid-spin and released a concentrated blade of wind toward the leader instead.
The blade cut deep, slicing through rock and hitting the leader's side, forcing him to stagger and lose control of the stones.
At the same time, Shawn ducked beneath the lightning user's punch and slammed his elbow into the man's gut with a burst of wind, sending him skidding backward.
He panted lightly, three-on-one becoming two-on-one.
"I'm not just some kid," Shawn whispered. "I'm a storm."
Wind howled around him, growing stronger, fiercer. Leaves, stones, even trees began to bend to his will.
And though his body ached, though his mana thinned, he stood tall—tunic flapping wildly, eyes locked on his remaining enemies.
"Let's dance."