The glade sizzled with residual energy. James rose from the debris, panting, a thin trickle of blood down his cheek—but his eyes burned hotter than before.
He was learning.
Adjusting.
Taren felt it, the shift in pressure around James's aura.
He's not just enduring.
He's evolving.
Taren's stance stiffened. No more holding back.
With a subtle motion, he reached out—and the ground beneath them pulsed.
From a ripple of violet mist, something began to take shape.
A singular, armored entity emerged—taller than the knights before. Sleek. Streamlined. Its armor was made of interlocking plates of mirrored aether-glass, reflecting James's form back at him with eerie precision. In its right hand, it held a bladed chain, coiled and humming. Its left arm morphed continuously, forming a cannon of crystallized energy.
Taren's voice dropped. "Meet Gravemind—forged from a Nexus Beast I felled in the Eastern Spiral. It learns. Like you."
The construct moved—not fast, but exact. Every step was calculated.
James didn't wait.
He blurred forward, Temporal Echo spawning five afterimages. Sliding beneath a whip strike, he lashed upward with the nunchaku—
CLANK.
Gravemind barely rocked. A pulse ran across its mirrored torso and, for a split-second, it copied James's motion exactly.
"It's mirroring me?" James muttered.
"In part," Taren said. "But more importantly—it remembers your strikes."
The construct attacked again—cannon flashing, chain sweeping for James's legs.
James vaulted, twisted, landed hard—thinking on the fly.
Cannon's slow to recharge. Chain curves right—left flank's blind. No time for brute force…
He feinted left, used an afterimage to mislead Gravemind's sensors, then flung one nunchaku high like bait. In the instant the construct recalibrated, James slid under its guard, ripped the half-recharged cannon free, and jammed it into the mirror-plated core.
BOOM.
A muffled shockwave rattled Gravemind from within. Smoke and fractured light seeped through its seams.
James skidded back, breathing hard.
Didn't need a beam—just timing.
A tendon in Taren's jaw flexed.
That was... improvisation. Not a technique. Just instinct and precision.
I don't know if it's the Valorian race or his freakish talent… but the more we fight… the more it feels like he's improving.
Gravemind dropped to one knee, glitching.
Taren lifted a hand. The construct dissolved into swirling motes of light.
Enough.
James slumped to a crouch, sweat dripping from his jaw.
"Not bad," Taren allowed. "Hurting Gravemind on a first encounter isn't common."
James coughed a laugh. "You should've seen the Nullborn Chimera I put down last month."
Taren gave one dry chuckle. Then he moved—no summons, no tricks.
Just him.
In a single blur he was there, spear flashing. James tried to parry—
CLANG—Taren's twist knocked the nunchaku wide. A palm thrust hit James square in the chest.
BOOM.
James slammed to the ground and stayed there.
Taren stood over him, spear lowered—final, unflinching.
James sucked a breath through his teeth. "…You win."
Taren offered a hand. "I knew that the moment you charged Gravemind."
James eyed the hand, then clasped it. Taren hauled him up with one sharp yank.
"Remember this feeling," Taren said, voice even. "Tomorrow it starts again—and next time I won't pull the spear."
James wiped blood from his lip, a half-smile twisting. "Good. I wouldn't respect you if you did."
Taren inclined his head once—acknowledgment, nothing more. Without another word, he turned and strode toward the violet trees. James watched him go, chest still heaving, mind already racing.
The fight was over.
James rolled his shoulders, the sting of the last impact still fresh in his muscles. As he stepped off the sparring ground, the faint hum of energy pulsed near his chest.
He reflexively reached under his shirt and touched the silver-runed amulet Elara had given him. It glowed softly, responding as it always did when power stirred around him.
Taren, already walking ahead, slowed and glanced back. "That artifact you're carrying. It just flared a little."
James gave a small nod. "It's nothing dangerous. Just a protective ward… from a friend."
Taren's gaze lingered. "A friend, huh?"
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing slightly. "It's attuned to you. Closely. Did they bind the runes themselves?"
"Yeah," James said, after a beat. "Her name's Elara."
Taren's expression shifted, something between curiosity and amusement sparking in his eyes. "Elara. Hm. Sounds like this friend either knows you really well… or wants to."
James raised a brow. "You always this nosy?"
"I don't need to be nosy," Taren said with a smirk. "That charm's practically humming with intention."
He let the moment stretch, then added casually, "So—should I brace for a dramatic reunion when you see her again? Petal rain, teary vows, all that?"
James groaned. "Bro, stop."
Taren laughed quietly. "Just saying. People don't etch protective runes into silver unless they really mean it."
James didn't answer.
But he didn't argue either.
They walked a few steps in silence, the wind crackling through crystal leaves. Then Taren's tone shifted, suddenly all steel.
"How long until that seal ruptures?"
James steadied his breath. "By Earth time? About a year. Maybe less."
Taren frowned, doing the math aloud. "A year there... is nearly seven here."
James raised a brow. "So we've got time?"
"In a sense. Time to prepare. Train. Reinforce." Taren's gaze swept the horizon. "But don't let that fool you—seven years in Aetherius can vanish like smoke if you waste it."
James gave a dry chuckle. "Doesn't sound like you're planning to let me waste any of it."
"Damn right I'm not," Taren smirked. "Especially not when you've got this much raw potential."
They stopped at the edge of a glowing ridge. The silence between them was less tense now—something more like respect.
"There are other tribes," James said finally. "Kaelen mentioned them. Stronger ones."
Taren nodded slowly. "Yeah. I've crossed paths with a few. Some tame the land itself, others command beasts the size of cities. If power's what you're after, they've got it."
James's fingers tapped the hilt at his side. "I know that... but I'm not in a rush to leave."
He looked up at Taren, voice steady.
"We just met, I get that—but even in that short time, I can already tell you're different. You actually know how to push someone without breaking them. You understand this place. And… you don't look at me like I'm some unstable weapon waiting to explode."
Taren's expression didn't change much, but a flicker of something passed through his gaze—acknowledgment, maybe even approval.
James continued.
"I've been around a lot of people who trained me for what they thought I was. But here… with you… it feels like I'm being trained for what I actually am."
Taren finally spoke, voice quieter than usual.
"Most warriors don't say that kind of thing out loud. But I hear you."
He crossed his arms, looking toward the shimmering horizon.
"Truth is, I've met warriors from tribes that make Aeolus look like a candle next to a wildfire. But if you dropped me into a real fight with one of them right now… I wouldn't flinch. I've stood my ground before. I'll do it again."
He paused.
"Aeolus doesn't lack power. It just lacks numbers."
Taren looked back at James, firm now.
"If you want to stay… then stay. Train. Learn. Get strong the right way. And if you ever do go to another tribe, you'll go as more than just some boy with unstable power. You'll go as someone who knows how to wield it."
James sat back on a low stone ledge, exhaling deeply. The air still shimmered faintly from their spar, and his limbs ached in the best way—earned.
Then, with a lopsided smirk, he looked at Taren.
"Y'know… Master Kaelen said you're only, what—three years older than me?"
Taren raised an eyebrow, noncommittal.
James leaned forward, eyeing him like he was inspecting a myth.
"But you walk around like you've been alive for centuries. Summoning knights, wielding Crescent Arsenal like it's nothing. When did you even have time to learn all that?"
Taren's lips twitched faintly—half-smile, half-shrug. "I trained. I adapted. I survived."
He tilted his head. "Aetherius doesn't give you much choice."
James mock-groaned. "Of course. The classic 'just survive harder' answer."
He pushed himself to his feet, stretching with a wince. "Alright, wise old man in a 19-year-old's body—whatever cosmic secrets you're hiding can wait. Right now… I need food."
Taren gave a quiet snort. "You burn through energy fast. Not surprising."
James rubbed his stomach. "I'm starving. What do people even eat around here? Sky crystals? Glowing roots? Please don't say raw ether."
Taren smirked. "There's a village outpost a few levels down. Aeolus has its own cultivators. You'll find things that taste mostly normal."
"Mostly?" James narrowed his eyes.
"No promises," Taren said, already turning toward the path. "But there's a stew made from cloudfish and emberroot. Builds stamina. You'll need that."
James trailed behind, shaking his head. "Yeah, see, this is where I draw the line. If it twitches in the bowl, I'm out."
Taren laughed softly, the sound brief but real. "You'll live. Hopefully."