THE ALMIGHTY DOMINATING AURA

The training courtyard of Blackthorn Academy was filled with laughter. Not the warm kind that came from joy—but the sharp, cruel kind that cut deeper than a blade.

Kael lay on the ground, ribs burning with pain, his face pressed into the rough stone tiles. The metallic taste of blood coated his tongue. Around him, young disciples circled like wolves, sneering down at their prey.

“Pathetic,” one of them spat, his boot crushing into Kael’s side. “Still no aura? You’re already fifteen. Even peasants awaken before then.”

The crowd laughed louder.

Another boy stepped forward, dressed in fine training robes trimmed with gold. Rynald Draven—the third son of a noble family, and one of Kael’s most persistent tormentors. His smug grin gleamed in the sunlight as he drew closer.

“Look at him,” Rynald said mockingly, motioning to Kael’s thin frame. “A body without aura is like a lamp without oil. Useless. Empty. Worthless.”

Kael’s vision blurred, but he clenched his fists against the stone floor. His nails bit into his palms. His heart screamed with the same words he had heard his whole life: worthless, trash, a mistake of the heavens.

He wanted to shout back, to fight, to prove them wrong—but his limbs trembled with weakness. Every breath rattled in his chest like broken glass.

Rynald crouched and grabbed Kael by the hair, forcing his head up so their eyes met. “Do you know what your problem is? You don’t belong here. The academy is for warriors, not hollow shells. Even the dogs on my estate have more presence than you.”

Kael’s lips moved, but no sound came out. Rage burned in his chest, but it was caged behind frail ribs.

Rynald chuckled darkly, then slammed Kael’s head back into the ground. Gasps and laughter echoed all around as the other students egged him on.

“Hit him again!”

“Make the trash kneel properly!”

“Maybe he’ll finally awaken when he’s half-dead!”

The jeers blurred together. For a moment, Kael wished he could vanish, melt into the stone, disappear from the cruelty of their world.

But then… something stirred.

A whisper. A pulse.

It began deep inside him, faint but undeniable—a thrum like the beating of a second heart. His vision, hazy with pain, sharpened. He felt the weight of the world pressing on him, but instead of crushing, it bowed.

The ground vibrated.

Rynald froze, his mocking smile faltering. “What the…?”

The air grew thick, suffocating. Invisible pressure pressed down on every soul in the courtyard. One by one, the laughing disciples staggered, clutching their throats as though unseen chains had wrapped around them.

A silence fell, heavy and unnatural.

Kael pushed himself up slowly, his palms leaving bloody smears on the stone. His body still ached, but it no longer mattered. Something had awakened. Something vast.

His dark eyes glowed faintly, golden streaks rippling within them like molten fire. When he exhaled, the air shimmered as though the world itself bent around his breath.

“What… what is this?” one disciple gasped, his knees buckling.

Rynald staggered backward, face pale, sweat dripping down his brow. He tried to speak, but the weight of the aura pressed his words into silence.

Kael rose to his full height. He wasn’t tall, nor broad, yet in that moment he towered over them all.

The ground beneath him cracked with each step he took. Dust lifted into the air, swirling like it was caught in a storm only he commanded.

When Kael finally spoke, his voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It carried the weight of mountains.

“No aura?” His tone was quiet, but each word slammed into their ears like thunder. “No. I am aura.”

His hair whipped around him as if the world itself bowed to his presence. A golden light bled from his skin, not like fire, not like lightning—but something greater, something primal. It wasn’t merely energy. It was dominance itself, the authority of a sovereign written into existence.

Disciples collapsed to their knees. Some trembled, others wept, unable to endure the crushing pressure that demanded submission.

Even Rynald, proud son of nobility, fell to the ground, his body shaking uncontrollably. His lips quivered as he forced out a whisper: “Impossible… y-you were supposed to be nothing…”

Kael’s gaze locked onto him, sharp and merciless. For years, he had endured the ridicule, the blows, the endless mockery. For years, he had been told he was trash.

Now, they all bowed.

His voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“Remember this moment,” Kael said, his aura pressing harder, forcing Rynald’s face into the dirt. “The day the boy you called worthless rose above you all.”

A gust of wind exploded outward, throwing dust and debris into the air. The stone beneath Kael’s feet fractured, web-like cracks spreading outward.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the pressure receded. The golden glow dimmed, vanishing into his skin as though it had never been.

The disciples lay sprawled across the ground, panting, drenched in sweat. Fear lingered in their eyes as they dared not rise.

Kael stood tall, chest heaving. His body was battered, but within him, a fire raged brighter than ever.