A week passed.
The scars of battle had faded, but the intensity of growth had not.
Kaito and Elya remained deep in training under Seraphine's watchful eye, their days carved into cycles of motion, sweat, and discipline. Blades clashed beneath sunrise and moonlight alike, and even their brief moments of rest were filled with quiet reflection and whispered conversations about magic, tactics, and the path forward.
Kaito's strikes had grown sharper—not just faster, but deliberate, purposeful. Elya's precision and grace evolved into an unshakable calm, her sword moving like water. The once disparate rhythm between the two had begun to sync, honed through repetition and guided by Seraphine's relentless focus.
"Again," she ordered, and they obeyed.
Each movement burned with resolve.
Meanwhile, deep beneath the Academy…
Dean Kain stood alone in the arcane sanctum—an underground chamber sealed off from students and most faculty. Crystals hummed faintly in the walls, reacting to the ripple in the air, the lingering mana trace of something that should not be.
He narrowed his eyes.
The ripple patterns were familiar now, unmistakable.
He'd seen them once before. Long ago. In a war that nearly fractured the entire western continent.
He ran a gloved hand over the runes etched into a diagnostic crystal. The surge patterns, the violent spike in dimensional distortion… they matched an impossible signature.
Darius the Unbreakable.
The name tasted like iron and old blood in Kain's mouth.
A traitor. A legend. A warlord who once sought to bend reality itself to his will—until he vanished, swallowed by the collapse of his own ambition.
"No," Kain muttered. "He should be dead."
But the magic didn't lie. The mana ripple that summoned the Thunder Behemoths… the faint fractures in the barrier between realms… the lingering resonance that made even the oldest wards shudder—
It was him.
Darius had returned. Or worse—he had never left.
Kain's expression hardened. His fist clenched.
"This changes everything."
The clang of blades echoed across the training field as dusk painted the sky in gold and crimson. Kaito and Elya moved in tandem—strike, parry, shift—under Seraphine's critical eye. She offered no praise, only silence, which they had come to learn was her form of approval.
As they paused for breath, Kaito lowered his blade, sweat dripping from his chin. He felt… sharper. Stronger. The energy flowing through him now was far more potent than it had been just a week ago. Even the Echo of Arcanum pulsed with a faint hum, as though acknowledging his growth.
Still, something gnawed at him—an unease that had lingered since the battle with the Thunder Behemoths.
Who had summoned them? Why?
Why did Dean Kain look so grim every time the mana ripples were mentioned?
His thoughts were interrupted as a shadow loomed across the field. Dean Kain approached, boots crunching against gravel. His face was set in stone, the same expression he wore before a storm.
"Kaito. Elya. Come with me."
The command was simple—but final. They followed in silence, leaving Seraphine behind without question.
In the Dean's study…
Books and scrolls were scattered across the desk. A glowing crystal floated above a map of the continent, pulsing with unstable energy.
Dean Kain turned, folding his arms behind his back.
"The one responsible for the mana ripples… I have confirmed his identity."
He paused. His eyes met Kaito's.
"His name is Darius the Unbreakable."
Kaito blinked. "I've heard the name… but I don't understand. Who is he?"
Kain's gaze darkened.
"Darius was a warrior born from the heart of a war-torn land in the north. A child of conflict. From the time he could lift a weapon, he was trained to kill—not for glory, but survival. He rose through mercenary ranks faster than any man in recorded history. Towering, relentless, nearly indestructible. They called him The Unbreakable Titan."
He gestured to the map.
"He was not just strong—he was transformed. Ancient runes were carved into his flesh by forgotten rituals, making him virtually immune to injury. He fought not with magic, but against it—crushing spellcasters and champions alike. Entire battalions fell to him."
Elya's voice was hushed. "Why would someone like that return now?"
Kain nodded grimly. "Because he wants the Echo of Arcanum."
Kaito froze.
"He sees it as the final piece to complete himself. To become invincible. I know him. Darius doesn't care for conquest. He doesn't want wealth or nations. He desires only one thing: to become the world's most perfect warrior. And to do that…"
Kain's voice dropped.
"He must defeat you, Kaito. And take the Echo for himself."
Kaito felt the weight of the blade on his back suddenly grow heavier.
"…Why me?"
"Because you're the Echo's chosen. You awakened it. And now, Darius believes you're the only one standing between him and ultimate supremacy."
The room was silent for a beat. The air was thick with understanding, with fear—and with purpose.
Kaito straightened his back.
"Then I'll face him."
Kain gave a faint nod, his expression unreadable. "You'll have to. But not yet. When he comes for you, you must be ready—and if you're not…"
He didn't finish the thought.
Elya stepped beside Kaito, her hand resting on her sword hilt. "Then we train harder."
Kaito exhaled slowly. Despite the dread creeping through him, something stirred within—resolve.
A storm was coming. And he would meet it head-on.