Chapter 25: Whispers of the quite flame
The moon hung low over Tempest Hold, casting a pale glow across the courtyard stones where Thalen trained alone long after nightfall. His new sword a Rare-class blade laced with crimson veins rested against his shoulder as he moved through slow, deliberate strikes. Each swing sent a ripple through the air, trailing faint wisps of aura.
Sweat poured from his brow. His muscles trembled, not just from exhaustion, but from the slow integration of the Tyrant Spirit into his body. Arkan’s words echoed in his mind: Until your body can endure both forces, your own power will crush you.
Thalen exhaled and struck again, shattering a practice dummy into splinters. The Blade Aura danced around him like silver flames, coiling tighter every time he moved. The Tyrant Spirit pulsed underneath it, quiet but present, like a heartbeat beneath his own.
"Still training at this hour?" a voice called.
Thalen turned, slightly startled. Dain approached, carrying a basket of food and two bottles of chilled spring water. His usually smug expression was gentler tonight.
"Figured you’d forget to eat again," Dain said, tossing one of the bottles.
Thalen caught it midair, grinning. "You know me too well."
"I know you’re too stubborn to stop," Dain replied, dropping the basket. "They say some of the other SSS Heroes are watching. Trying to see if you’ll break like the others who failed."
Thalen took a deep drink, the cold water grounding him.
"I won’t," he said flatly.
Dain sat on the edge of the training platform, chewing on a meat bun. "I believe you. Still... what Arkan told us about that Vael Seros guy it’s hard to wrap my head around. A former aspirant turning into the leader of some anti-aura cult? That’s next-level twisted."