The courtyard shook with laughter and impact.
None of it cruel, all of it kinetic.
"Master Kaviar! Fight me like I'm a man!"
Syka's voice rang out like a war drum with glitter in its step. She lunged, chain trailing behind her like a comet tail, gold eyes blazing with challenge.
"I'm TRYING!!"
Raze shouted back, pivoting just in time to dodge her roundhouse. Dust kicked from under his heels, and the chain scraped air inches from his throat.
He moved like a dancer. She moved like a storm.
It wasn't a duel.
It was joy in motion.
Their strikes didn't come from hatred.
They came from history. Built, not broken.
She dove again.
Elbow first.
Raze caught her momentum.
Flipped her over his back, and spun before her boots even hit the ground.
She landed. Rolled. Bounced.
Laughed.
"Better," she grinned, twirling her chain once around her wrist like she was winding up a joke. "You're almost taking me seriously."
"I'm trying not to kill you," he muttered.
"That's sweet," she said. "But if you hold back again, I'll drop you like your GPA."
He didn't know what a GPA was anymore.
Didn't matter.
The chain whipped forward.
He sidestepped, grabbed it mid-snap, and yanked.
Syka lunged with the pull.
Raze stepped into it. Too close for her gauntlets, too close for spells. They collided in the center, shoulder to shoulder, momentum stalling.
Her forehead tapped his. A silent pause.
She grinned, wide.
"You're getting soft."
"You evolved into a red demon with chains and gauntlets. Forgive me if I needed a second."
"Fair."
They broke apart on instinct, no command. No system prompting it.
Just mutual rhythm.
They circled again.
"Still calling me 'Master,' huh?" he asked, arms loose, flame flickering faint around one palm.
Syka tilted her head, mock-serious. "Still trying to pretend it makes you uncomfortable?"
He didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
Because when they clashed again, it wasn't training anymore.
It was home.
"Let's turn it up. We can't get better playing like this."
Fire bloomed in Raze's hands, fast and full. No warning. No chant.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
[ skill activated: CANDELA PRIMA ]
[ classification: primordial invocation ]
[ origin: ??? ]
[ mana type: fire – bound to unknown source ]
[ control: 79% | sync: initializing ]
[ manifestation: inner flame ignited ]
[ casting protocol: bypassed ]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Syka grinned, canines flashing. "You're finally getting serious!!" She surged forward, chain snapping through the air behind her like it couldn't wait to bite.
Raze didn't retreat.
He advanced.
Their collision sent a shockwave through the courtyard.
Flame met steel, heat met pressure.
Her chain caught his wrist mid-swing.
The fire didn't flicker.
It coiled around the metal.
Chased it back, ate the distance.
She twisted, flipped over his shoulder, landed low.
He turned with her.
Boot dragging, heel sparking flame through the dirt.
"Keep up!" he called.
"Make me!"
She vaulted again, spinning midair, chain circling her waist before lashing out like a second limb.
He ducked. Slammed both palms into the ground.
Fire roared upward in a ring around them.
She didn't flinch.
She laughed.
"This is what I came for!"
Her gauntlets slammed together. Sparks. Magic.
Kinetic burn.
And they rushed each other again.
Not student and teacher,
Not savior and saved,
Just fire and chain,
They matched each other blow for beautiful blow.
Raze stepped back.
Syka stepped forward.
No words. No pause. Just movement.
Her gauntlets clanged against the dirt as she shed them, bare hands catching the chain that chased behind her like a serpent on a leash. She gripped it tight.
Once, twice—then yanked.
The gauntlets snapped forward, riding the chain like hammers loosed from heaven.
Raze's eyes widened. Flame gathered in his palm—fast, sloppy, instinct. He hurled it upward.
The fireball soared useless into the sky.
The ground shattered beneath his boots.
He jumped. Not clean—desperate.
Air surged under him, hot with his own magic, lifting him just high enough to dodge the twin impact.
The gauntlets smashed into stone, splitting the court ground in two. Syka grinned up at him. And then—
She yanked again.
The chain obeyed.
The gauntlets ripped free of the rubble, spun midair, and flew back to her like loyal hounds called home.
Raze twisted in the air, flame curling at his heels.
She crouched low, ready.
He wasn't falling.
He was coming back down.
The fireball shifted midair.
Reinforced. Dense. Its shape curled tighter, edges smoothing, weight balancing.
It didn't look like a spell anymore.
It looked like a football.
Raze caught it with the side of his boot, rolled it down to his toes, and flicked it upward with a snap of his ankle.
His body flipped. Violent. Clean.
Mid-spin, he kicked the ball down—hard. It slammed into the stone like a cannon shot, cracked the earth, then bounced back up with momentum magnified.
He twisted again. Planted.
And struck.
The second kick launched it. Not like a spell—like a shot.
It ripped through the air toward Syka, too fast for flame, too sharp for sound.
She moved on instinct—hands up, chain tightening, gauntlets pulling toward her wrists—
But too slow.
She braced.
Then blinked.
The ball passed through her.
No impact. No heat.
No harm.
Her breath caught in her throat. She turned—watching the shot dissipate behind her like mist burned by sunrise.
Then—
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
[ skill activated: ??? ]
[ classification: ??? ]
[ origin: ??? ]
[ mana type: ??? – bound to unknown source ]
[ control: 9% | sync: initializing ]
[ casting protocol: bypassed ]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Syka turned back to him.
"...What was that?"
Raze didn't answer.
Because even he didn't know yet.
But something in him—deep, unspoken—smiled.
A roar split the courtyard—sharp, crashing.
Then came the blast.
A torrent of water slammed into both of them like a loose fire hydrant had been aimed at their chests.
Raze stumbled back, soaked to the bone, his flame snuffed out with a loud hiss.
His hair clung to his face in wet strands. He spat out water, blinking through the blur.
Syka didn't fall.
She stood still, eyes closed, expression unbothered.
Steam began to rise from her shoulders, her aura kicking in like a defensive instinct.
Within seconds, she was smoking. Literally.
"Really?" she muttered, flicking droplets off her arm.
Footsteps squelched through the soaked stone.
Alteria walked up with a smile that said she absolutely meant it.
"You two train too much," she said.
Raze peeled his hair out of his face, shaking like a dog. "Is that what we're calling sneak attacks now?"
Syka tilted her head. "Eh. I wouldn't call it training."
"Looked like a courtship ritual to me." Alteria folded her arms. "Chains. Fire. Mood lighting."
"Funny," Raze said flatly.
"Effective," Syka added.
Alteria sighed, her smile lingering. "I figured if I let you two go another five minutes, we'd need to rebuild the castle courtyard again."
"I was holding back," Syka said.
"You always say that," Raze muttered.
"And I always mean it."
They stood there in the aftermath, soaked and steaming.
Then Alteria's expression shifted—just slightly.
She looked at Raze.
"You okay?"
Not teasing.
Not checking for burns.
Just… okay.
He nodded once.
Then looked at both of them.
"Still breathing."
Syka grinned.
"Still annoying."