Chapter 145: The Opening
Several more matches passed in a blur of clashing bodies and sparking essentia. Towan's masked head swiveled between platforms, but none of the combatants moved in ways he recognized—just faceless strangers dancing behind white ceramic.
As he leaned against a pillar, waiting for the next match to begin, a sudden vibration pulsed against his face.
Buzz.
Buzz.
The twin pulses thrummed through his bones like a war drum. (So it's my turn.) A fierce grin split his face beneath the mask as he pushed off the pillar, his boots thudding against the training floor with predatory anticipation.
Professor Khalvar's voice cut through the murmuring crowd as he pointed to the masked figure opposite Towan. "Take off your mask."
The removal was graceful—almost delicate. Fingers curled under the chin, lifting the featureless white shell away to reveal—
Sapphire eyes.
Familiar.
Impossible.
Len stood before him, her usual soft expression replaced by something far more determined. The training arena's lights caught in her eyes like sunlight through glacier ice.
(You're kidding me right?)
The thought hit Towan like a sucker punch. His fingers twitched at his sides, suddenly unsure. This was Len—quiet, gentle Len who flinched at loud noises and always sat in the back. The same girl who'd just been cheering for Rellie with stars in her eyes.
Yet here she stood, facing him down without an ounce of hesitation, her posture balanced and ready. The air between them crackled with unspoken challenge.
(I won't go all out... but I'm not gonna go easy either.)
Towan's muscles coiled like steel springs beneath his uniform, every fiber primed for motion. The mask hid his focused expression, but his stance spoke volumes—knees slightly bent, weight balanced on the balls of his feet, fingers curling and uncurling with restrained energy.
Across the platform, Len exhaled slowly—a visible puff of air escaping her lips. (Alright. I don't know who's in front of me... so I'll keep my guard up.) Her hands rose in a fluid guard position, fingertips glistening with a faint sheen of water essentia.
The attack came without warning.
Towan exploded forward, a controlled jab snapping toward Len's center. His fist cut through the air—
—only to be caught in a swirling vortex of blue energy.
(What-the—?)
Len's hands moved like river currents, redirecting his momentum with liquid precision. Towan's own force turned against him as she stepped aside, letting his arm glide past harmlessly. His balance faltered, one foot slipping dangerously close to the platform's edge.
Instinct took over.
With a powerful push-off, Towan launched into the air, his body rotating like a windmill. The move was unmistakable—
(SKYBREAKER!)
The mental shout echoed in his skull as his leg arced downward with crushing force.
Len reacted instantly. Twin streams of water essentia spiraled up her arms as she crossed them overhead in defense. The impact sent visible shockwaves through her aqueous shield, droplets scattering like shattered glass.
For a suspended moment, their energies clashed—
—then Len's boots screeched backward across the platform, carving twin trails through the dust. She caught herself at the very edge, arms trembling from the impact.
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(Damn... he's strong!)
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she reset her stance, water essentia swirling around her like a protective mist. The realization hit her hard—whoever this masked opponent was, they fought with the controlled fury of a seasoned warrior.
The arena erupted in waves of encouragement as Rellie and Alira leaned forward, their voices cutting through the noise. "Come on! You can do it!" Rellie's crimson eyes burned with fierce support, her hands clenched into tight fists. Beside her, Alira's cheers rose an octave higher, bouncing off the training hall walls.But next to them, Elliot spoke with Sylra
Elliot's masked head tilted slightly as he crossed his arms, his voice carrying that familiar mix of amusement and pride when speaking to Sylra. "Yeah, that's Towan alright." A dry chuckle escaped him. "I'd recognize that dead-ass kick from miles away."
Sylra nodded slowly, her analytical gaze tracking every controlled movement. "He's holding back." Her tone wasn't accusatory - just stating facts. "Can't blame him though. I wouldn't go all out either against..." Her voice trailed off as the action intensified.
Towan reset his stance, muscles coiling like compressed springs. (Let's see how you handle this.)
Then he moved.
His body became a blur of controlled violence - a whirlwind of jabs that snapped like lightning, uppercuts that rose like geysers, straight punches that thrust forward like piston strikes. The air itself seemed to vibrate with each near-miss.
Len's watery defenses shimmered under the assault, her arms moving in fluid arcs that sent droplets flying with each deflection. Her breathing came in sharp gasps, sweat tracing glowing paths down her temples under the arena lights. (WHO MADE THIS MATCH UP?!) The thought screamed through her mind as another punch almost slipped past her guard, the displaced air ruffling her hair
Towan maintained precise control - every strike calibrated to that razor's edge between challenging and overwhelming. His eyes narrowed behind the mask as Len barely twisted away from a particularly sharp combination. (I didn't expect her to be this good...)
Len's arms trembled with fatigue, her once-graceful movements now surviving on pure instinct. The platform beneath her feet was slick with scattered water essentia and perspiration, each defensive shift leaving damp footprints that evaporated almost instantly under the heat of combat.
Towan's rhythm faltered - just for a heartbeat - his attacks becoming slightly wider, marginally slower. The cockiness seeped into his movements before his mind could catch up. (Ah shit-) The realization came a fraction too late.
Len's eyes snapped into focus through the blur of attacks, her sapphire irises catching the light like shards of glacier ice. (THERE!)—an opening.
Her body became liquid motion - every muscle, every tendon flowing together in perfect harmony. Water essentia gathered around her fist in a swirling vortex, condensing at the last possible instant before impact. The punch landed with the devastating certainty of a wave crashing against stone, driving squarely into Towan's exposed left side.
The world tilted. Towan's feet left the platform as the force lifted him sideways, his stomach lurching with the sudden weightlessness. For one endless moment, he hung suspended in air, the edge of the arena rushing up to meet him—
—then his fingers shrieked against stone, carving five white-hot furrows into the platform's surface. His arm trembled with the strain as he hauled himself back from the brink, the muscles in his shoulders burning.
He touched his ribs gingerly, swallowing a grunt. That would leave a mark.
"TIME'S UP!"
Kaelin's voice cut through the arena like a blade. Across the platform, Len doubled over, her chest heaving. Sweat-darkened strands of hair clung to her flushed face as she fought to steady her breathing.
"Couldn't I have fought someone..." she gasped between ragged inhales, "...actually at my level?"
The ghost of a smile played at Kaelin's lips. "The matchups are random..."
The lie hung between them, transparent as spring water. Len lacked the breath to challenge it.
Professor Kaelin’s quill stilled mid-note as Len stepped off the platform.
(Redirects force through soft movement. Knows when to strike. Calm under pressure… Promising.)
She glanced at Towan, still rolling his shoulder where Len’s punch had landed.
(He underestimated her. That won’t happen again.)
A quiet chuckle escaped Elliot as he shook his head, his mask doing little to conceal the amusement in his voice. "Can't believe he underestimated her like that." The words carried both brotherly exasperation and reluctant admiration.
Beside him, Sylra nodded, her analytical gaze still tracking Len's movements as their friend stepped off the platform. "She did better than he expected," she observed, the understatement laced with quiet approval.
Across the training hall, Rellie caught Len in a fierce embrace the moment she reached them. "You did excellent!" The words burst from her with enough force to stir the loose strands of Len's sweat-dampened hair. Her crimson eyes shone with genuine pride.
Alira materialized at Len's other side, bouncing on her toes with unrestrained enthusiasm. "You would have won if the fight had been just a little bit longer!" She punctuated the declaration with a playful jab at the air, her movements echoing Len's earlier techniques with exaggerated flair.
Len's shoulders rose and fell with her still-labored breathing, but a small, tired smile curved her lips as she accepted their praise. The platform behind her bore silent testament to the battle - scattered droplets of water essentia glistening like fallen stars across its scarred surface.