Sparks at Central Academy
Their outfits turned heads as they exited Vercina, still cloaked in a quiet sort of elegance—Rio in matte-black trench, Xanthia in a sleek blue corset-coat that glinted like electric dusk.
"Let's head to the Academy," Xanthia said, stretching her arms. "We've dressed like gods. Might as well fight like one."
"Yeah," Rio cracked his neck, his expression shifting. "Can't always rely on TIERCRAFTs to save the day. Need my base sharp."
She nodded in agreement.
Minutes later, they arrived at Central Academy, nestled at the capital's core. Holo-walls rose like fortress petals, with elemental energy streaking across the air as advanced students sparred on multi-platform arenas.
As they stepped onto the training field, a familiar voice rang out.
"Heeyyy Rio! Who's this chick? Damn, you upgrading fast."
It was Sam, Rio's longtime classmate—always teasing, always loud.
Rio rolled his eyes. "She's Xanthia Solaris. Guest. At my house. Chill, idiot."
Sam winked, raising his hands. "Okay, okay. Respect."
Xanthia smirked but said nothing. She simply flexed her fingers, and a whip of light flared into her hand.
The message was clear: she didn't need Rio to explain anything.
Scene: Training Inferno
The duo took their place at one of the elite platforms—thirty meters wide, reinforced with kinetic-dampening coils. No audience. Just pure sweat, silence, and sparring.
For over two hours, Rio and Xanthia clashed. Sword vs. light, instinct vs. calculation.
Energy crackled. Floors splintered.
At one point, Rio forced Xanthia off-balance with a twist-kick—but she recovered mid-air and sent a spiral beam toward his shoulder.
He grinned through the block. "You're not bad."
She exhaled hard. "You're not good."
By the end, both were covered in a glistening layer of heat-sweat, breathing hard, muscles pulsing.
No words. Just nods.
The kind warriors gave each other when language wasn't enough.
Nightfall blanketed MARU in velvet indigo as Rio returned to Ryunn Estate.
The marble gates hissed open.
Inside, soft orchestral beats echoed in the halls. The scent of alchemical tea drifted in the air.
Ana stood at the edge of the main lounge, wearing a silk robe with too much leg exposed to be accidental.
"Oh," she purred, "you're finally back. Thought the city stole you."
Rio gave her a sideways glance, one brow raised. "You jealous of the city or the girl I brought?"
Ana walked forward, deliberately slow. "Neither. The city doesn't know how to take care of you. And the girl?" She smirked. "Let's just say… I don't see you training with her after midnight."
Rio's smirk deepened. "Training's not the only way to work up a sweat."
Ana stepped closer, fingertips brushing his collar. "Hmm. Then I suppose we need to explore... other workouts."
Her hand trailed down, and for a moment, the space between them shimmered—tense, electric, less than intimate but far more than polite.
She leaned in near his ear. "You're not tired yet... are you, Master Rio?"
Chapter 21: Watching From the Balcony
Far above the Estate, on a private balcony—
Xanthia stood alone, arms folded, the city lights reflecting in her visor lenses.
She'd seen the way Ana touched him. The way he didn't stop her.
It didn't anger her. Not exactly. But it did register.
More importantly, she observed something else:
Rio was pretending again.
Pretending to be fine. Pretending to be aloof. Pretending like the tournament tomorrow didn't matter.
But beneath it… she saw the quiet weight on his shoulders.
He joked, flirted, trained, styled himself—but behind his eyes was someone measuring everything. Strategizing. Carrying legacy.
A boy with the face of a prince and the mind of a player—but built like someone preparing for war.
Xanthia exhaled.
"Whatever you're planning, Rio Ryunn... I hope it works. Because the tournament tomorrow?" She paused. "It won't be about just winning. Not anymore. And don't play fool with me or you dare ...."