From the second-floor balcony, the courtyard looked small and fragile—like a paper stage on which tempers had been set alight. Below, petals whipped in the gusts Vince had summoned, and clusters of disciples parted where three figures stood guarding the fallen Shaun.
Garland Heatmyer propped his forearms on the railing, eyes wide and uneasy. "That's no good," he muttered. "He took a heavy hit and came back like nothing happened. How—?"
Aiden Flamesaber watched with the same still, unreadable calm as before. He held a slim, leather-bound book open in one hand, his fingers resting idly against the page as though even the chaos below couldn't quite interrupt his reading. For a long moment, he said nothing—just observing.
"Have you ever heard of a hydra?" Aiden asked finally, voice low. "Cut one head off and two grow back. Stronger. Faster. Harder to kill."
He tilted his head toward Vince, the comparison quiet but sharp. "The Dragonblades are like that. They're bred, trained, and coddled by power. Hurt one and it comes back more dangerous than before."
Garland swallowed, the sight of Vince's royal-blue aura still flashing in his mind. "So you're saying this isn't over just because he got knocked back?"
"No." Aiden's eyes didn't leave the courtyard. "It's only changed shape."
A heavy silence settled between them. From below came the crackle of building mana and the strained voices of disciples. Garland's jaw set; his concern hardened into resolve.
"This has gone too far," he said. "He crossed a line—humiliating someone like that in front of everyone. We should do something. Now."
Aiden didn't reply. The wind brushed past the balcony, carrying the echo of Vince's rage from below.
His hand slowly closed around the book's spine. For the first time, his composure shifted—an almost-imperceptible tightening of his features.
He shut the book softly, his thumb marking the page, and set it down with deliberate care—like a man setting aside contemplation for confrontation.
"Well," Aiden said, voice cool but decisive, "that fool has left me no choice."
Garland's grin sharpened—hungry, but relieved. "About time." He shoved off the railing.
Aiden pushed away as well. Their shadows fell down the stairwell ahead of them, two shapes sliding from the safety of the balcony toward the chaos.
Behind them, warmth and chill followed like twin shadows—one of flame, one of frost—an echo of Vince's fading storm. Below, the courtyard braced for what was coming.
**********
The sky over Silver Heaven Academy had turned black. Wind howled across the courtyard, scattering petals and dust as the storm gathered its wrath.
At its center stood Vince Dragonblade, his cloak thrashing behind him, his eyes burning with royal blue fury.
"Did you really think you could humiliate me?" he snarled, veins of power tracing up his arms. "A filthy commoner… daring to strike a prince?"
He raised his hands toward the heavens, fingers curling as sparks of azure lightning crackled between his palms. The air warped around him, thick and heavy with mana.
Below him, Shaun lay unconscious in Natasha's lap, his face pale but peaceful, unaware of the destruction aimed his way. Shaumin and Sabastian stood in front of them, trembling but firm—ready to shield him even if it meant death.
Vince's laughter cut through the chaos. "Consider yourself blessed, Commoner," he spat. "You'll die by the hands of royalty!"
"Twin Dragon… Cannon!" He thrust his hands forward.
Two spiralling beams of royal-blue energy tore through the air, roaring like twin dragons unleashed from the void. The shockwave flattened the grass, shattering nearby stone tiles as the beams screamed toward Shaun and his friends.
The disciples watching screamed and scattered. The courtyard became a blur of wind and terror.
"Shaun—!" Natasha cried, pulling him close, pressing her body over his like a shield. Shaumin and Sabastian braced themselves in front of her, their eyes wide with hopeless defiance.
There was no time to run.
The world slowed.
Natasha squeezed her eyes shut as the beams neared—her heart pounding in her ears, her breath catching—
And then—
A thunderous impact split the courtyard.
The Twin Dragon beams struck something—but not them.
Shaun's fingers twitched. His head lifted slightly from Natasha's lap, eyes fluttering open to the blinding light. Through the haze of dust and energy, his vision sharpened—just enough to see something miraculous.
When the light cleared, two silhouettes stood before Shaun's group—one cloaked in black, the other in white.
Their capes fluttered against the violent wind, arms outstretched, bare hands glowing with raw energy.
They had caught Vince's attack.
The crowd fell silent. Even the storm itself seemed to hesitate.
The blue beams cracked, split, and with a twist of their wrists, the two figures redirected them skyward—sending the energy roaring past the academy walls and into the distant forest.
A deafening explosion followed. A plume of smoke rose on the horizon where the beams collided—far away, where no one would be harmed.
Vince's eyes widened. "Impossible…"
He stepped forward, disbelief twisting into fury.
"No one—no one can stop my Twin Dragon Cannon!"
The two disciples said nothing. Their auras shimmered faintly—one like a burning flame, the other like silver wind.
Natasha opened her eyes, gasping. She blinked, confused to find herself still alive.
"What… happened? Are we… safe?"
Shaumin looked around in disbelief. "Are we dead?"
Sabastian exhaled shakily. "No. We're alive. But… how?"
Shaun stirred at last, his eyelids fluttering open. His vision swam, the world spinning in light and shadow—until his gaze locked onto the two standing figures before him.
"No…" he whispered hoarsely. "They… saved us."
All three turned their eyes toward the mysterious pair—one boy with midnight-black hair, the other with snow-white strands glinting in the fading stormlight.
The air around them shimmered with quiet dominance.
Vince's jaw tightened as recognition dawned. His voice cracked with rage.
"You… You two?! What are you doing here?!"
The white-haired boy didn't answer. He simply lowered his hand, brushing dust from his sleeve, while the black-haired one smirked faintly—as if saving lives was an inconvenience.
The crowd watched in stunned silence, whispers spreading like wildfire. Shaun's gaze lingered on them, confusion and awe mixing in his expression.
The storm had finally ended — or had something even greater just begun?
**********