The morning sun filtered through the tall stained-glass windows of Aetherion Academy, casting fractured rainbows across the polished marble floors of the upper tower. Despite the beauty of the view, a heaviness clung to Kaito as he climbed the final steps to the Dean's office.
The door opened before he could knock.
"Come in, Kaito," said a familiar voice.
Dean Marcellus Kain stood behind a massive, rune-etched desk of blackwood and sapphire inlay. The room was quiet, lined with towering bookshelves and glowing magical instruments. A gently burning hearth kept the chamber warm despite the altitude.
"You wanted to see me," Kaito said, stepping inside.
"Sit," Kain replied, gesturing to a high-backed chair across from him.
Kaito obeyed.
The Dean studied him for a long moment, eyes sharp behind a veil of calm.
"You're lucky to be alive," Kain said.
Kaito nodded slowly. "I know."
"You faced the Unbreakable Titan and lived to speak of it. That alone places you in a category few can claim."
"…Who is he?" Kaito asked.
Kain folded his hands, leaning slightly forward. "Darius. Once a boy from the northern Wastes, forged by endless war. When most children were learning to read, he was learning to survive. Kill. Endure."
He paused.
"Over time, he became something more than a man. He sought out ancient rune-smiths, had his bones, muscles, even skin etched with battle-forged sigils. Each one bound him tighter to war—until no blade could pierce him, no fire could burn him. He is not invulnerable in the literal sense, but close enough that most never see the difference."
Kaito frowned. "Then… why is he after me?"
"Because of the blade you carry," Kain said simply. "The Echo of Arcanum."
The sword. Kaito glanced at the hilt resting at his side. Even now, it pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat in sync with his own.
Kain continued, voice now low and deliberate. "The Echo is no ordinary weapon, Kaito. It is a relic born in the final days of the Age of Dissonance—a time when gods and mortals battled not with armies, but with ideas. The blade was created not to destroy, but to remember. It carries the echoes of every great spell ever cast near it, every warrior who wielded it with conviction. It is a record of will and power… and now, it's tied to you."
Kaito's brow furrowed. "Then it's not just a weapon."
"No. It's a mirror, Kaito. It reflects who you are… and who you will become."
Silence settled between them for a moment, broken only by the soft crackling of the hearth.
"Darius believes the Echo will make him invincible," Kain said. "He's wrong. The Echo doesn't give power—it awakens what already lies dormant. That's why he cannot wield it, and why he fears you."
Kaito shook his head. "He didn't seem afraid. He barely looked at me like I was a threat."
"That's because he hasn't seen what you can become. Not yet."
Kain stood, walking to the tall window that overlooked the academy grounds. His robe shimmered with magic, the gold threading catching the morning light.
"He will return," he said. "And next time, he won't be testing you. He'll be trying to end you. You need to be ready, Kaito. Not just to fight, but to understand what it means to carry a legacy weapon like the Echo."
Kaito rose slowly from his chair. "How do I prepare for someone like him?"
Kain turned back to him, eyes shining with quiet fire. "By becoming someone who doesn't need to run. Someone who doesn't fear the weight of history, but adds to it."
He stepped forward and placed a hand on Kaito's shoulder.
"I will teach you what I can. But the blade's voice is yours to hear, and yours alone. Listen well, Kaito. Because before this ends, even Darius won't be your greatest challenge."
The training grounds beneath the Tower of Aetherion were unlike anything Kaito had seen.
A hidden arena, etched with ancient wards and reinforced stone, buried beneath the academy's main hall. Unlike the polished dueling courts the students used, this one felt older—primordial. The very air shimmered with latent magic, and the floor bore the scars of battles fought by long-forgotten heroes.
Dean Kain stood at the center of the field, his robe exchanged for a dark leather mantle with arcane threads woven into the lining. In one hand, he held no weapon, only a staff crowned with a crystal that pulsed like a slow heartbeat.
Kaito stood across from him, Echo of Arcanum drawn.
He didn't feel ready.
"You want to survive Darius," Kain said, "you need to stop thinking like a student. You're not here to pass a class. You're here to live."
Kaito nodded, already tense. "I understand."
"Do you? Let's find out."
Kain didn't chant. He didn't even move.
But suddenly, gravity itself seemed to shift.
Kaito dropped to one knee with a grunt as the air thickened around him. The world blurred and pulsed—some kind of magical pressure forcing him down.
"W-What…?"
"Aetherial compression," Kain explained coolly. "If your body breaks under pressure, you won't last five seconds against Darius."
Kaito fought to rise. His limbs trembled. The Echo pulsed against his hand, flickering with light, but refused to activate as it had before.
He tried to swing it.
The blade moved sluggishly, like dragging a sword underwater.
A sharp crack echoed across the field. A bolt of compressed force knocked him back, slamming him into the stone wall.
Kaito coughed as he hit the ground, stunned.
"You're hesitating," Kain said, walking slowly toward him. "Darius won't give you a second chance."
Kaito forced himself upright, legs wobbling.
"Again," Kain ordered.
Kaito charged.
He slashed at the Dean—only for Kain to vanish in a blink, reappearing behind him and striking his shoulder with a burst of kinetic force. Kaito stumbled, gritting his teeth.
Again.
Kaito raised the Echo and sent a burst of mana through it—but it fizzled, unfocused. The blade sparked, but its magic faltered.
Another hit. Another fall.
Time blurred.
Sweat soaked Kaito's shirt. His arms ached, his muscles screamed. Every spell he tried either backfired or failed. His movements slowed. His strikes grew clumsy. His breathing ragged.
He finally collapsed, unable to lift the blade.
Kain stood over him, expression unreadable. "You're not listening to the sword."
Kaito groaned. "I am. It's just—there's nothing to hear."
Kain crouched beside him, voice low. "Because you're waiting for it to do the work for you. The Echo doesn't speak in words or power. It speaks in will. If you swing it out of fear, it will hesitate. If you swing it with doubt, it will falter. You have to believe—not in the sword, but in yourself."
Kaito closed his eyes.
He tried to breathe through the frustration, the shame, the pain.
But deep down, doubt festered.
How could someone like him—barely able to stand—ever hope to face a force like Darius?
He gripped the sword tighter.
"I'm trying," he muttered.
Kain's voice softened—just a little. "Good. Then get up. Try again."
And so he did.
Wounds throbbing. Limbs shaking. Mana flickering. But he stood.
Because if he didn't, there would be no one left to stand when Darius returned.
The sky cracked.
Not with thunder—but with magic.
Kaito, still breathing heavily from training, staggered as a violent ripple of mana surged through the air like a tremor through still water. The training chamber shook, faint blue runes along the walls sparking erratically. Dean Kain's eyes narrowed.
"That... was no natural fluctuation."
Outside, students and staff screamed. The peaceful sky had turned an ominous slate gray, swirling with unnatural clouds. Thunder rumbled—not from above, but from the very fabric of the world, as if the heavens had opened and something ancient and furious had slipped through.
Then—a tear in space. A jagged rift shimmered into existence just beyond the academy's outer gardens, and from it emerged a pair of colossal forms.
Thunder Behemoths.
Two gargantuan beasts, their bodies crackling with raw, untamed lightning, stomped into the physical world. Their tusks glowed with arcs of power, and their eyes burned like miniature storms. The air itself warped with static as the ground cracked beneath their titanic weight.
One let out a roar.
BOOOOOOM.
The very sky responded—jagged bolts of lightning striking the nearby tower, splitting stone. Waves of thunder burst from their mouths, flattening trees and shattering windows.
Kaito stared in awe—and dread.
Dean Kain stepped forward, calm amidst the chaos. He turned to Kaito, his expression unreadable. "This is no coincidence. They were sent. Or lured." He pointed to the one on the left. "You take that one. I'll handle the other."
Kaito's eyes widened. "Me? I've never—"
"You've trained for this," Kain said flatly. "Now prove it."
Then, without another word, he vanished in a flash of sapphire light.
The air exploded behind Kaito as Dean Kain slammed into the first Behemoth, his staff swirling with impossibly condensed magic. The battle between titan and archmage unfolded like a storm within a storm—awe-inspiring and terrifying. Kain barely moved, but each motion shattered reality around him.
But Kaito had no time to watch.
The second Thunder Behemoth bellowed, and lightning rained down.
The battle was on.
He sprinted across the shattered courtyard, dodging arcs of electricity as the Behemoth's tusks carved through the air. Every stomp sent tremors through the ground, forcing Kaito to balance himself mid-air with a gust of wind-infused mana.
He gripped the Echo of Arcanum tightly.
"Echo's Command—Wind!"
A cutting gale spiraled from his blade, striking the Behemoth's hide—but barely left a mark. The beast turned, enraged, and retaliated with a Thunder Roar.
BOOOOOOM.
Kaito barely had time to throw up an Arcane Shield, the barrier cracking under the weight of sound and lightning. He was thrown back, slammed into the ground, vision swimming.
Get up. Get up.
He focused. Mana surged around him.
"Temporal Shift!"
Time slowed. The Behemoth's next lightning strike crawled toward him like molasses. Kaito rolled, flanked the beast, and leapt up with fire and wind twisting around his blade.
"Arcane Convergence—Blazing Cyclone!"
His blade screamed through the air, trailing a vortex of fire and wind that exploded against the beast's shoulder.
This time—it roared in pain.
Cracks formed along the scales.
But it wasn't enough.
The Behemoth turned, tusks glowing, and slammed one into the ground. The resulting shockwave hurled Kaito backward—blood in his mouth, bones screaming. His vision blurred.
Still, Dean Kain didn't interfere.
Still, Kaito rose.
He dug the Echo of Arcanum into the ground to steady himself, mana flaring to life one last time. "Let's end this."
The final charge.
The Behemoth roared again, and Kaito ran directly into it—mana exploding from his body, Arcane Shield flaring, and his blade infused with lightning, fire, and wind.
The beast's tusk came down—
Kaito vanished in a blur—
—and reappeared mid-air, directly above its head.
"Arcane Convergence—Thunderfire Lancer!"
A spiraling javelin of storm and flame shot from his blade and pierced through the Behemoth's skull.
It let out a final, gurgled roar—light fading from its eyes—as it collapsed with a quake that shook the horizon.
Silence.
Then, applause.
Dean Kain stood over the other fallen Behemoth, untouched, arms folded.
He gave Kaito a long, heavy stare. Then a small, grim nod.
"Well done."