The sting from the blow to his chest had barely faded when Valeon's words settled in. Bolt lay on the ground, his body aching, heart pounding, his mind struggling to wrap around the revelation.
"You're not the only Warborn," Valeon's voice rang through the night, unsettling and almost… cryptic.
For a moment, all Bolt could do was stare at Valeon, his breaths shallow. The weight of the statement loomed in the air like a storm. Not the only Warborn? What did that even mean?
Valeon took a step back, letting Bolt process the words. "You heard me. There are others. But you're the one the War God has chosen."
Bolt pushed himself up, ignoring the throb of pain in his ribs. He felt a surge of frustration rising in him. "What do you mean? Who are these other Warborn? Why the hell didn't you tell me this before?"
Valeon's gaze was unreadable, his features shadowed by the moonlight. "I didn't tell you because you weren't ready. You can barely control your powers, let alone deal with the truth about the Warborn. That's why I'm here—to train you. If you can't master your abilities, you'll never survive what's coming."
Bolt clenched his fists, lightning crackling around his knuckles. "What's coming?"
Valeon's eyes darkened. "The War God's plan is much bigger than you realize. There are others who would seek to control the Warborn, use them as weapons. They won't stop until they get what they want. And they know you're a threat."
Bolt shook his head. "I'm still just trying to control this power. I can't worry about some 'others.'"
Valeon stepped closer, his gaze intense. "That's where you're wrong. You have to worry. Because once you understand your powers—once you truly understand what you are—you will realize that there is no escape from the path you've been set upon. The War God chose you for a reason, but you still have much to learn."
"Why me?" Bolt's voice cracked with frustration. "Why was I chosen? What makes me so special?"
Valeon didn't answer immediately. Instead, he took a step back, giving Bolt space to process. Then he spoke. "I don't have all the answers. But I know this: the Warborn are more than just vessels for power. They're instruments of fate. And as for you… you are the one who will shape the future."
Bolt blinked, his mind racing. He couldn't let this overwhelm him. He had to focus. "I'm not a weapon. I'm a person. I won't be anyone's pawn."
Valeon's eyes gleamed with something—perhaps amusement, perhaps pity. "That's your first lesson, Bolt. No one gets to choose their fate. Not you, not me. But you do have the power to shape it, if you're strong enough."
With a frustrated growl, Bolt stood up, flexing his muscles, trying to push aside the exhaustion and doubt gnawing at him. "Then train me. If I'm going to shape the future, I need to be stronger. I need to learn to control this damn power."
Valeon gave a curt nod. "Good. Now, listen carefully. The training will be grueling. You won't be able to control your powers overnight. But if you survive, you'll be one step closer to understanding what you truly are."
Without another word, Valeon's hand shot out. A surge of energy slammed into Bolt, knocking him back, but this time, he was prepared. He summoned a barrier of wind, just in time to stop the attack from sending him crashing into the ground.
Valeon smiled. "You're getting better. But it's still not enough."
The night air hummed with energy as Valeon stepped forward. "You will face trials, Bolt. Not just physical. Your mind will be tested. Your resolve. Everything about you will be tested. If you fail, there will be consequences. The War God will not forgive weakness."
Bolt gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to unleash his full power. He had to remain focused. He wasn't going to back down.
Valeon continued, his voice calm but deadly serious. "And the truth is, you'll be tested by more than just me. There are others out there who will hunt you. They want your power. And they will stop at nothing to take it from you."
A shiver ran down Bolt's spine. He couldn't help but wonder just how many enemies were out there, waiting in the shadows, ready to make a move.
"What do you mean by 'others'?" Bolt asked, his voice low. "Who else is out there?"
Valeon's expression turned grim. "Some are from other factions. Others are… not human. The Warborn are rare, but not unique. Those who seek to use our power will always be lurking, waiting for an opportunity to strike. And when they do, you'll have to be ready."
Bolt swallowed hard. He didn't like the idea of being hunted, but he knew Valeon was right. He needed to get stronger, fast.
Valeon's voice took on a more serious tone. "You may have allies now, but make no mistake: when the time comes, you will have to fight alone. You're the only Warborn, and they will do whatever it takes to bring you down."
Bolt clenched his fists, resolve hardening in his chest. "Then I'll make sure they know they made a mistake. I'm not backing down from anyone. Not now, not ever."
Valeon's smile returned, but it was cold, almost predatory. "I hope you're right. Because you'll need all the strength you can muster. This is only the beginning."
The wind howled around them as if to emphasize his words, the world suddenly feeling colder and more dangerous. Bolt's heart beat loudly in his chest, the weight of the situation settling over him like a cloak.
Valeon turned to leave, his figure slowly dissolving into the shadows. "Tomorrow. We begin your first real lesson."
As Bolt stood there in the silence of the night, his mind swirled with the enormity of what Valeon had told him. He was the only Warborn, a vessel of power meant to shape the future. But that wasn't the only thing he had to worry about.
There were enemies out there, powerful ones. And he was the one they were after.
The world had just become a much more dangerous place. And the only way to survive was to become stronger. Much stronger.
But even as he steeled himself for the battles ahead, one question gnawed at the back of his mind.
Who else was out there? And more importantly, who would strike first?