Chapter 399. Did You See That? I Destroyed Something That Outlasted Wars
The rhythm they had established was an intoxicating, dangerous dance of steel and sweat that pushed them both to the precipice of their capabilities. But today, the air in the training yard felt charged, not just with exertion, but with something volatile.
An unspoken current of raw magical energy seemed to hum between them, as if the very atmosphere was waiting for a spark to ignite.
"Again, Kaela!" William commanded, his voice cutting through the haze of afternoon heat. "Don’t just swing! Feel the flow!"
"The magic isn’t something you summon; it’s something you channel through the steel!"
"If you hesitate, the energy will backflow and sear your nerves."
Kaela didn’t respond with words. Her breathing was a controlled growl.
Her eyes were fixed on William as he shifted his weight, his blade humming with a faint, azure glow. She could feel it too—the prickling sensation beneath her skin, the way the mana coiled in her gut like a caged serpent.
’Channel it... Don’t let it control you.’
’Let the Tempest Fang become an extension of my own heartbeat.’
’Strike not with anger, but with purpose!’
"Come on then," William challenged, a predatory smirk tugging at his lips. "Show me what you’ve learned."
She lunged. The clash was instantaneous, a bone-jarring CLANG that sent vibrations up both their arms.
But this time, it wasn’t just metal hitting metal. As their blades met, a shockwave of magical force erupted at the point of contact, a visible ripple in the air that made the gravel beneath them explode outward in a perfect circle.
SHHH BOOM!
Kaela pushed forward, her movements becoming a blur of lethal intent. She spun, her gauntlet trailing wisps of silver lightning.
William parried, but the force of her enchanted strike forced him back three steps, his boots carving furrows in the dirt.
"Better!" he roared over the crackle of magical discharge. "Now, combine the footwork with the elemental discharge!"
"Three-step pivot, upward slash, then the burst!"
Kaela gritted her teeth, blood from a fresh cut on her cheek spattering against the hilt of her sword. She initiated the sequence.
’One, two, three.’ The pivot was perfect.
The upward slash was flawless. But as she reached for the final burst, the raw power she had been cultivating for weeks surged upward without warning.
Instead of channeling the energy through the tip of Tempest Fang, the magic backfired in a chaotic torrent.
"Kaela, watch your—" William’s warning came too late.
Her aim drifted dangerously wide. The momentum of her enhanced strike was too great, too uncontrolled.
She wasn’t aiming for the training dummy anymore; she was a living projectile of enchanted fury. Her fist, wreathed in a corona of unstable white light, connected not with flesh, but with the ancient, load-bearing stone pillar that stood as a silent sentinel at the edge of the yard.
CRACK THOOM.
The sound was catastrophic. It wasn’t just the sound of breaking stone; it was the sound of something fundamental being torn apart.
A spiderweb of fissures raced up the pillar with the speed of lightning. Then, with a groan that sounded almost human in its agony, the stone gave way.
Chunks of ancient granite, some the size of human heads, exploded outward, spraying the yard in a deadly shrapnel of debris. A massive cloud of choking gray dust erupted instantly, swallowing Kaela and William in an opaque shroud.
KRA KOOOOM!
Somewhere above, a startled flock of crows burst from the palace battlements, their panicked cawing drowned out by the thunderous crash as the pillar’s upper half collapsed, crashing into the courtyard with enough force to make the ground tremble beneath their feet.
For several heartbeats, there was only silence. A heavy, ringing silence that tasted of pulverized stone and burnt ozone.
"Cough... cough..."
William emerged from the dust cloud first, wiping his eyes with a bloodied sleeve. His heart was hammering against his ribs.
"Kaela? Report."
The dust slowly began to settle, revealing a scene of devastation. The pillar hadn’t merely cracked.
It had been obliterated. Nearly a third of its mass had been vaporized or shattered into rubble, leaving behind a jagged, smoking stump that looked like it had been struck by a meteor.
Kaela stood frozen in the center of the debris field. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat and stone dust, and her hands were shaking violently.
She stared at her own gauntlet-clad fist, the weapon of her destruction, with an expression of pure, disbelieving horror.
"I... did not mean to do that," she whispered, her voice hollow and cracking. "I... I just wanted to hit harder."
She looked up at the ruined monument, then at William, her eyes wide with the terrifying realization that the power she was learning to wield was no longer something she could simply contain. It was something that could break the world around her.
Before William could even process the raw display of power or the terrifying implications of Kaela’s uncontrolled mana, the heavy silence of the courtyard was shattered. The thunderous crash had acted like a dinner bell for panic.
From the corridors beyond the training yard came the frantic, uneven rhythm of approaching footsteps: slap slap slap slap palace servants and guards rushing toward what they surely assumed was an assassination attempt or a structural collapse.
"What in the gods’ names was that noise?" a voice shrieked from around the corner.
A moment later, Theron, the elderly Royal Advisor, rounded the stone archway. He had been mid-stride, clutching a scroll, clearly on his way to some mundane bureaucratic errand, but the sight before him froze him mid-motion.
His jaw didn’t just drop; it seemed to unhinge. The scroll slipped from his nerveless fingers, unfurling across the dusty ground like a white flag of surrender.
His face drained of color so rapidly it was as if someone had drained the blood from his veins.
"The Founding Pillar," he wheezed, his voice climbing several octaves into a thin, reedy register of pure horror.
Both hands flew to his chest, clutching at his robes as if his heart might physically burst through his ribs. "No... no, no, no! That pillar... it has stood since the first stone of this palace was laid!"
"It has survived three separate wars! It survived the Great Fire of the second century!"
"It has weathered two hundred years of renovations and every siege in our history!"
He stumbled forward, peering at the jagged, smoking crater where ancient masonry had once been. "It has survived everything... everything known to man..."
"It has not survived Kaela," William muttered under his breath.
He stood with his arms crossed, fighting a losing battle against a smirk that threatened to split his face. The adrenaline from the fight was still coursing through him, making the absurdity of the situation feel almost comedic.
’Gods, look at his face. ’William thinks. ’He looks like he’s about to meet his ancestors prematurely.’
’But damn... that strike.’
’Even I didn’t expect that kind of raw output. She didn’t just hit it; she erased it.’
"I said I didn’t mean to!" Kaela protested loudly, though her voice lacked any real conviction.
Her mortification was a thin veneer, rapidly cracking to reveal something far more dangerous: a giddy, terrifying sense of empowerment.
She looked down at her gauntlet. The metal was still warm, humming with residual energy.
Slowly, deliberately, she flexed her fingers.
Clink. Clink.
The sound of the enchanted plates moving felt different now—heavier, more deliberate. A spark of silver lightning danced between her knuckles before fading.
’I felt it...’ Kaela thought. ’That moment when the magic stopped being something I was pulling on and became something that was part of me.’
’The stone didn’t just break; it surrendered.’
’I broke something that has survived centuries.’
A flush of heat rose to her cheeks, not from shame, but from a disbelieving, primal pride.
"I mean, obviously, I feel terrible about the historical significance and everything," she said, glancing nervously at the horrified advisor before her eyes darted back to the rubble. "But also... did you see that?!"
"Did you actually see it? I destroyed something that has outlasted actual wars!"
"I destroyed history with one punch."
"That is not something to be proud of, my daughter!" Theron shrieked, wringing his hands so violently they looked ready to snap.
He began pacing in agitated circles around the debris, peering at the broken stump from multiple angles as if hoping that a change in perspective might somehow make the pillar magically reassemble itself.
"This is catastrophic! This is unprecedented!"
"The Restoration Committee will need to be informed immediately!"
"There are sacred protocols for damage to structures of historical significance!"
His voice rose to a panicked crescendo as he began counting on his shaking fingers. "Forms! We will need dozens of forms!"
"Several preliminary reports, followed by formal Council approval given the pillar’s Class I classification!"
"The Archmage will want to examine the magical residue!"
"The Ministry of Heritage will have our heads!"
Kaela watched him unravel, a part of her wanting to laugh hysterically at the sheer bureaucratic terror he was displaying. She straightened her shoulders, trying to summon some semblance of royal dignity while her heart still raced from the thrill of the destruction.
"I truly am sorry," she said, and to her credit, she managed to sound at least partially sincere, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward despite her best efforts. "Please tell the Committee that it was an accident, a training mishap."
"And tell them I’ll happily contribute toward whatever restoration costs are involved."
As Theron scurried away toward the palace, already barking orders at a terrified servant to fetch more parchment, Kaela turned back to William. Her eyes met his, and the guilt finally faded entirely, replaced by a sharp, hungry intensity.
"Next time," she whispered, so low only he could hear, "we practice without the pillars nearby."