The marshlands of Raven Hollow shivered under the echoes of battle. Every clash of steel sent tremors through the fog-choked ground, and even the fiercest prodigies felt their knees weaken at the sight of Kaelen Viremont. The disciples of the Royal Martial Academy and the Crimson Veil Sect scattered like startled birds, panic flickering in their eyes. Their instinct to survive screamed louder than any command.At last, they understood—they had provoked a force far beyond anything they could imagine.“Senior brothers! Senior sisters! Stick together! They dared to hunt us—now it’s our turn!”Kaelen’s laughter rang out, deep and unshakable. He surged forward without hesitation. In an instant, the rusted Path of the Sword blade materialized in his hand, as though the air itself had forged it.Steel clashed. Blood sprayed. Heads tumbled across the damp earth.“Kill!” Kaelen’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and uncompromising.“Follow Senior Brother Kaelen!”“Hahaha! Finally… revenge!”

Boom.The earth shuddered. A blast tore across the ancient plain, sending up dust and flinging loose stone like it was confetti. For a heartbeat, the battlefield looked hurt — a raw, smoking wound under a bruised sky. Through that haze, a figure stepped out, wrapped in gilded robes that snapped in the wind. He moved like he owned the place; every step felt like the air had to make room for him.Power hung around him, not noisy force but that slow, unavoidable kind of command. It settled on everyone watching and made the breaths come quick. This was the kind of presence that crowds fall silent for. The guardian from the Imperial Martial Academy lifted his arm and called across the field.“Shadow Spear.”Black energy stitched itself into being, twisting and hardening into a long spear that seemed to swallow light. Runes crawled along the shaft, faint and ancient, and the tip shone with fresh blood. Even from far off, every eye on the plain knew what that weapon meant. Names travel faste

The late afternoon sun poured over the mountain arena like molten gold, painting long, slanting shadows across the stone terrace. The air was thick—alive with tension, almost electric. Every rustle of a robe, every whispered breath carried weight. Rows of Sword Sect disciples stood along the terrace, their dark robes trimmed with silver. Eyes sparkled with anticipation, minds buzzing with possibilities.Vaelin stood among them, hands lightly clasped behind his back, calm as a still lake. Beside him, Ronan practically hummed with excitement, grinning like he’d just won a wager.“By the heavens, Vaelin,” Ronan whispered, barely holding himself together. “We’re about to see her—the Sword Sect’s top beauty, the instructor of the Arcane Foundry Hall! Can you imagine—”Vaelin shot him a sidelong glance, a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Try not to drool before meeting her,” he murmured.Ronan coughed, embarrassed, wiping the corner of his mouth as a few nearby disciples stifled chuckles

The first light of dawn spilled across the horizon, brushing the sky with faint streaks of gold. Vaelin stepped out of his quarters, breathing in the cool air that clung to the mountain like a whisper. Mist drifted lazily between the peaks, curling like silver smoke. For a moment, he just stood there, letting the quiet morning wash over him. Today would decide his next step—one way or another.He didn’t hesitate long. His boots carried him down the winding path toward the Hall of Arcane Forging, nestled deep in the Silverblade Order’s inner sanctum. In his hand, he rolled a small golden token between his fingers—Elder Serin Kael’s gift from the night before. The emblem gleamed faintly in the dim light, heavy with promise… or warning. Either way, it was his key inside.As he moved northward, the grand spires of the inner order slowly faded behind him. The clang of training weapons and the rhythmic chants of disciples training at dawn gave way to something calmer. Fields stretched out in

Dawn spilled over the stone battlements of the Warrior Clan’s central grounds, casting long, angular shadows across the polished training halls. The air hummed with anticipation, that prickly, electric kind that made your skin tingle and your pulse race. Word of a confrontation had spread like wildfire, and now a crowd of apprentices and young warriors had gathered, eyes wide with curiosity—and maybe a little fear.Kaelric Voss’s voice cut through the morning air, calm but dripping with arrogance. Just a few words, and heads turned. The tension between him and the newcomer beside him was magnetic, impossible to ignore.Vanya Crestfall’s cheeks flamed. She hadn’t expected Kaelric to be so maddeningly relentless, flaunting his reputation like a drawn blade. Every instinct in her screamed to act—but before she could, Kaelen stepped forward. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder, steadying, reassuring.“Let me handle this,” he said softly, a serene smile masking the storm beneath.Kaelr