The training ground had grown quieter.
Not silent but focused.
A few fighters slowed their drills, their attention subtly shifting toward the wooden octagon where two figures now stood facing each other.
Solarynth.
Omen.
The air between them felt different.
Not hostile.
But serious.
Omen rolled his shoulders once, loosening up, his stance grounding itself naturally as his eyes locked onto Solarynth.
"No holding back," he said calmly. "You wanted to learn then learn properly."
Solarynth nodded.
His breathing steadied.
His body adjusted.
"I'm ready."
That was all Omen needed.
He moved first a sharp step forward
his leg snapped upward in a clean, direct front kick aimed straight at Solarynth's midsection
Solarynth reacted instantly.
His hips turned, his forearm redirecting the kick outward just enough to avoid a solid hit.
Using that opening, he slid forward, his palm driving toward Omen's chest in one smooth motion.
Omen shifted back half a step, his arm cutting downward to deflect the strike before immediately countering with a straight punch aimed at Solarynth's face.
Solarynth tilted his head just enough.
The punch passed inches from his cheek.
In the same motion, he circled his arm around, catching Omen's wrist and pulling attempting to break his balance.
But Omen didn't budge.
His foot planted firmly into the ground as he resisted the pull, his body anchored.
Without hesitation, his leg whipped around in a low roundhouse, targeting Solarynth's thigh.
Solarynth lifted his leg slightly, reducing the impact, then stepped inside Omen's range, closing the distance quickly.
A chain of strikes followed.
Palm, Elbow, Backfist.
Short-range, Efficient.
Omen raised his guard, forearms absorbing the blows as he read the rhythm.
Then, with precise timing, he drove a powerful reverse punch toward Solarynth's ribs.
Solarynth twisted his torso, dispersing the force just enough to avoid full impact.
He slid to Omen's side, attempting a sweep aimed at taking his legs out from under him.
Omen reacted instantly, hopping over the sweep and landing with solid balance.
His arm came down hard a hammerfist aimed at Solarynth's shoulder.
Solarynth raised his arm, redirecting the strike before stepping in again, attempting to control Omen's centerline with both hands.
But Omen broke the contact with a sharp outward motion, creating space between them.
Then he attacked.
A fast combination—
jab.
cross.
high roundhouse.
Solarynth flowed through it.
His hands moved with minimal effort, parrying each punch before leaning back just enough for the kick to brush past his chin.
He stepped forward again.
Pressing.
His hands moved in circular patterns, chaining strikes together, searching for openings in Omen's defense.
But Omen began to adapt.
His guard tightened.
His timing sharpened.
Then he stepped in.
A clean, powerful punch broke through Solarynth's rhythm, forcing him to halt.
Solarynth redirected it with a soft parry, attempting a quick counter toward Omen's throat.
Omen angled his body, deflecting the strike before stepping in with a heavy body blow that forced Solarynth backward.
They separated.
Just for a moment.
Then moved again.
Omen stepped forward with intent, driving a decisive straight punch.
Solarynth shifted off the centerline, guiding the strike past him as he reached to trap Omen's arm.
but this time, Omen anticipated it.
He retracted instantly.
Spun.
A back kick fired toward Solarynth's torso.
Solarynth turned with it, absorbing part of the impact as he slid back, regaining distance.
They circled again.
Omen's movements were direct, Explosive
Solarynth's were fluid, Adaptive.
Then
Omen stepped in again.
This time his timing was perfect.
A clean punch landed solidly.
Solarynth stumbled back a step, his guard rising instinctively as he steadied himself.
But Solarynth steps in first, jumping and lifting his leg into a high roundhouse, the kick cutting cleanly through the air toward Omen's head.
Omen reacts instantly, pivoting on his support foot as his own leg rises mirroring the motion with a precise high kick of his own.
Both strikes collide mid-air.
Their shins crash together with force, halting the momentum of both attacks as the impact sends a sharp recoil through their stances.
Both recoil from the clash, feet hitting the ground almost at the same time as they slide back half a step, eyes locked and bodies tensed.
The recoil pushed through both of them as they landed almost at the same time, sliding back half a step.
Their eyes locked.
Neither moved first.
Then.
Solarynth shifts first, circling to the side with light footwork before darting in again, lifting his leg for another sharp kick aimed high.
Omen steps in instead of back, raising his guard and deflecting the strike while adjusting his stance for a counter.
Solarynth lands and pivots, chaining a quick follow-up kick toward the midsection.
Omen checks it with his knee, absorbing the impact before driving forward with a straight, grounded step that forces Solarynth to retreat slightly.
They reset for a split second then move at the same time.
Both turn their backs in near-perfect sync, hips rotating sharply as their legs whip backward.
Two back kicks launch simultaneously.
The distance closes instantly.
Both heels stop just inches from each other's faces.
Neither strike lands.
Their legs remain extended, frozen in place, perfectly matched in reach and timing.
A brief pause hangs between them as balance, control, and precision hold the moment still.
Both retract at the same time, stepping back into stance without breaking eye contact.
The space between them unchanged.
A silence settled over the ring.
Then
Omen let out a small breath.
Solarynth's expression softened slightly.
And without saying it—
they both understood.
"…Captain Louis," Omen muttered quietly.
Solarynth nodded.
They had both learned from him.
And even now he was still there.
In their movements.
In their timing.
In their fight.
A faint smile formed on both their faces.
No winner, No loser.
Only respect.
The fight ended in a draw.
The tension from the sparring match slowly dissolved into the rhythm of the training grounds.
The onlookers who had paused to watch began returning to their own drills, though a few still glanced back at Solarynth and Omen with quiet respect.
The air felt lighter now, no longer sharp with competition, but steady grounded.
Omen rolled his shoulder once, loosening the last bit of tension from the match before stepping back.
Solarynth remained where he was for a moment longer, his chest rising and falling as he processed everything that had just happened.
Every movement, every mistake, every adjustment it all replayed in his mind.
He wasn't frustrated.
He was thinking.
Learning.
"Not bad," Omen said, crossing his arms as he looked at him. "You move well… just don't rely too much on reacting. You'll get caught eventually."
Solarynth nodded slightly, still catching his breath. "Yeah… I felt that."
Asura, who had been leaning lazily near the edge of the ring, gave a small clap, clearly amused. "For someone who just unlocked his power, that wasn't terrible. You didn't embarrass yourself too much."
Solarynth shot him a look. "That's your compliment?"
Asura smirked. "Take it or leave it."
Before Solarynth could respond, something shifted in the air not violently, not like danger… but noticeable enough to draw attention.
A few of the trainees nearby suddenly straightened.
Some stepped aside.
Even Omen's expression changed slightly, his posture becoming more attentive.
Footsteps approached from behind.
Slow.
Confident.
Solarynth turned.
A woman stepped into the training grounds.
She wasn't loud or flashy in appearance, but something about her presence commanded attention without effort.
Her gaze was calm, observant, and sharp like someone who didn't need to prove anything because she already knew.
Her eyes swept across the field once… before settling on Solarynth.
"So," she said, her voice composed but clear, "you're the one making noise around here."
Solarynth blinked, slightly caught off guard. "...Me?"
Omen gave a small nod toward her. "You said you were looking for someone who understands the Five Stages of Magic."
He paused.
"That's her."
Asura straightened slightly, his usual relaxed demeanor sharpening just a bit as he looked at her. "So this is the one you were talking about…"
The woman stepped closer, her gaze not leaving Solarynth.
"I heard you awakened recently," she continued. "And from what I can tell… you're already pushing it without understanding it."
Her eyes flicked briefly to the ground where Solarynth had been moving earlier, as if reading the traces left behind.
"Speed-based magic," she added. "Unstable… but interesting."
Solarynth felt a slight tension in his chest not fear, but awareness.
Like standing in front of someone who could see through him without trying.
"…I'm trying to learn," he said honestly. "I just don't know where to start."
She studied him for a moment longer.
Not judging.
Measuring.
"Good," she said finally. "Because if you keep using it the way you are now…"
Her tone remained calm but the weight behind it landed clearly.
"…you'll destroy your own body before you ever reach the next stage."
The words hit harder than expected.
Solarynth's legs, still slightly trembling from earlier, suddenly felt heavier.
She stepped past him, walking toward the center of the ring as if it naturally belonged to her.
"The Five Stages aren't just power levels," she continued. "They're thresholds. Each one demands something from you, your body, your mind, your control."
She turned slightly, glancing back at him.
"And right now…"
A small pause.
"…you don't have any of that."
Asura let out a quiet chuckle under his breath. "She's blunt. I like her already."
Omen crossed his arms again, watching quietly.
Solarynth didn't respond immediately.
Not because he disagreed.
But because he knew she was right.
"…Then teach me," he said after a moment, his voice steady despite the weight of her words. "I don't care how long it takes. I just don't want to stay like this."
The woman looked at him again.
This time, not just observing
But considering.
Then, slowly, she nodded.
"Alright," she said. "But understand this before we begin…"
Her eyes sharpened slightly.
"This isn't training for strength."
A step forward.
A shift in presence.
"This is training so your power doesn't kill you."
The training arc had truly begun.