Chapter 8: The Weight of Power
Yui's hands were still shaking when he left the Black Hall.
The corridors outside were colder than he remembered, as if the academy itself had sensed the change inside him. The fight with the cursed beast, the way Aera had looked at him afterward—it all felt like someone else's story. His body ached with every step, white flame pulsing faintly beneath his skin, a low thrum like a distant drumbeat.
He didn't have time to recover.
Two sentries in black robes waited outside the training zone. Before he could ask, they wordlessly gestured for him to follow. The walk was silent. Not a word exchanged as they led him through halls he'd never seen, past symbols he couldn't read.
Eventually, they reached a massive stone door adorned with silver glyphs. It opened on its own.
Inside, seven figures sat in a semicircle beneath a high glass dome. Their robes shimmered with runes, eyes sharp, faces ancient.
"You are Yui," one of them said. A woman with eyes like daggers. "Janitor. Provisional Rank Zero."
Yui nodded. "Yes."
"You used forbidden magic during unsanctioned combat," another said.
"I defended myself," he replied evenly. "And a student."
"You displayed power unrecorded in our archives," the first woman snapped. "Power without form. Without name. Do you even know what you are?"
Yui stayed silent.
From the edge of the room, a voice cut through. Calm. Commanding.
"He's a student," Lucen said, stepping forward. "And he's under my care now."
The council murmured. Lucen didn't flinch.
"You're making a mistake," one of the elders growled.
"Or I'm preventing one," Lucen answered. "Contain him and you'll create a monster. Train him, and he might become something better."
Yui glanced at Lucen, uncertain.
"You'll be under strict observation," the woman declared. "One more incident—one—and you'll be confined."
Yui nodded again. "Understood."
---
Training with Lucen was nothing like the academy's formal sessions.
It was pain, rep after rep. Spars that left him bruised, broken, bleeding. Magic drills that set his nerves on fire. Lucen didn't coddle or explain—he demanded. He pushed. And Yui pushed back harder.
"Power is just pressure," Lucen said once, as Yui collapsed during flame resistance training. "The more you resist it, the heavier it gets. Learn to flow with it, or it will crush you."
Some nights, Yui woke in a cold sweat, flame dancing across his arms. The voice in the fire whispered, low and wordless.
He didn't tell Lucen about that.
---
Elsewhere, in the shadowed archives below the Tower of Tiers, Kael stood before a mirror etched with blood.
"He's growing too fast," he said.
Beside him, a thin boy cloaked in midnight shadows said nothing. His eyes were empty. Kael smiled.
"Find him. Push him. If he breaks, leave the pieces for me."
The assassin vanished into smoke.
---
Yui barely noticed the figure following him. After training with Lucen, his senses had sharpened—but this one moved like shadow itself.
It wasn't until he passed through the garden at dusk that the figure struck.
A blade of black flame sliced through the air. Yui twisted, barely dodging, but blood bloomed on his arm.
The attacker didn't speak. He moved like liquid, strikes quick and cruel. Yui fought back, but his body was drained. Training, flame control, sleepless nights—it all caught up to him at once.
He hit the ground hard.
The assassin raised a blade to finish it.
That's when the white flame erupted.
It wasn't just a pulse—it was a detonation. The grass around Yui withered, the stone cracked. The assassin staggered back.
And then—he heard it.
A voice, smooth as silk, old as time.
"You want strength? Then give me control."
Yui's vision swam. The fire wasn't just burning—it was alive. It pressed against his mind, not hostile… not yet. But waiting.
"I…" he gasped. "I don't…"
The voice chuckled softly.
"Just say the word."