Deep within the ancient ruin, the black energy now rippled more calmly than ever before — as though waiting for something.
Reizen stood in the middle of the chamber, Shadow Tempest resting in his palm. Before him, a faint golden light began to take shape in the air — not in its usual projected form, but rather as a trembling, uncertain image, like a distant echo.
"Aurelion," Reizen said, his gaze betraying no surprise.
"I see you're making good progress," the light spoke in Aurelion's voice, though much quieter now than when he addressed the crowd. "The sample gathered at the stadium was worth more than I hoped."
Reizen smiled.
"So your little show paid off."
"The shadow warriors were never about defeating them," Aurelion replied. "Every strike, every activated power gave data. Now I know exactly how close each Heir is to losing themselves."
"And Kael?"
"Closer than he'd believe." Aurelion's voice rang almost satisfied. "But not close enough yet."
Reizen looked down at Shadow Tempest, which slowly began spinning in his palm.
"How much longer are we going to draw this out, Aurelion? The longer we wait, the greater the chance someone figures out what we're really doing."
"Patience," the light said. "The Destruction doesn't awaken in a single night. We need all eight Heirs, their full power, in one place, in one moment. That's what the tournament is for."
"And after?"
Aurelion's light dimmed for a moment, as though even he were considering the thought.
"After, what once was will be free again. And the two of us will be the ones who reshape the world, rather than letting it fall apart the way Kael and those like him would try to preserve it."
Reizen didn't answer right away. His hand clenched around Shadow Tempest, but there was no doubt on his face — only calculation.
"Fine," he finally said. "We continue as planned."
The light slowly faded, and Reizen remained alone in the dark, the eight-pointed sigil on the wall now glowing brighter than ever.
In the training gym, Kael stared at Iron Blaze, which rested calmly in his palm. Orion sat across from him, his expression unusually serious.
"What you felt yesterday," Orion began, "wasn't an isolated incident. This happens to everyone who carries enough Heir power."
"Then how do I avoid it next time?" Kael asked.
Orion fell silent for a moment, as if weighing how much to say.
"You're not the first to go through this, Kael. Long ago, there were six who walked this same path before you."
Kael looked up.
"Six?"
"According to legend, six Heirs lived in an earlier age, all more powerful than anyone we know today. Three of them held onto themselves, and stopped what we're now trying to resist. The other three… lost themselves in their power. They gave up control, and let it control them instead."
"What happened to them?"
Orion sighed quietly.
"Even I don't know for certain. But if what I've heard is true, their names still echo somewhere — not just as history."
Kael looked down at Iron Blaze, which now glowed faintly and steadily.
"So if I lose control…"
"Then you'll be the fourth," Orion finished for him, his voice serious. "That's exactly why you need to learn not to fight against the power, and not to give yourself over to it either. You have to find balance."
He switched on the small training arena and stepped back.
"Let's try again. Slowly this time."
Kael nodded and took a deep breath before reaching for the ripcord.
Far from there, in a desolate, rocky region where the air shimmered with heat, on an island in the middle of a massive lake of lava, Ryujiro stood barefoot on the glowing rock, as though the burning didn't touch him at all.
Dragon Vortex rested in his palm, its surface glowing red with the reflection of the lava.
"Once more," he muttered to himself, and launched the top onto the scorching stone. A fiery vortex immediately formed around Vortex, but Ryujiro's expression remained dissatisfied.
"Not fast enough."
"You're never satisfied with yourself, are you?"
Ryujiro turned toward the voice. A younger boy stood at the edge of the rock, dark-haired, with a sharp gaze that seemed strangely familiar.
"Virex," Ryujiro said, his voice betraying neither surprise nor joy. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard about what happened at the stadium." Virex stepped closer, carefully avoiding the hottest stones. "Thought I'd check on you."
"I'm fine. Like always."
"Ryujiro…"
"If you only came here to worry, turn back. I don't need it."
Virex held his brother's gaze, not backing down.
"I didn't come just for you. I felt the wave too, same as everyone else. I want to know what you're planning to do when the time comes."
Ryujiro was silent for a long moment, his gaze turning back to the lava.
"What I always do. I'll become stronger than anyone else out there. Not to save them — but so no one can ever say again that I wasn't good enough."
"That's not an answer to what I asked."
"It's the only answer I can give right now."
Virex looked at his brother for a long while before speaking again.
"Fine. But when the time comes, and you have to choose… I hope you choose the right side."
With that, he turned and walked back along the rocky path, without looking back.
Ryujiro remained alone in the middle of the lava, Dragon Vortex still resting in his palm. He watched for a long moment as his brother's figure disappeared into the distance, then looked back down at the top.
"Stronger," he said quietly, mostly to himself. "Whatever it takes."
The fiery vortex flared up around him again as he launched Vortex once more, faster than ever before.
To be continued in Chapter 18…