The training grounds buzzed with heat, not from the sun—but from simmering pride.
Caden stood in the center of the clearing, boots dug into the earth, fists clenched tight. Around him, students began to gather in loose arcs, word of the challenge spreading like wildfire. Instructors held back, silent yet present, watching.
He hated this.
Dawn.
Again.
Always above, always untouchable. Even now, standing at the edge of the circle with that same calm expression—as if all this was beneath him. As if they were beneath him.
Appointed assistant instructor? Caden's jaw tightened. Of course. Of course the Grand Instructor would choose his favorite little miracle boy.
The memory of that announcement was still fresh, still burning. The students were told to train while Dawn observed. Not fought. Not bled. Just watched.
"I suppose next, we'll be bowing to him before every spar," Caden muttered bitterly.
He wasn't alone in his thoughts. Whispers trickled through the crowd like dry leaves underfoot.
"Why's he not training with us?"
"Dawn's different. You saw him during the expedition…"
"Different doesn't mean better."
Caden stepped forward, voice raised and loud.
"I challenge this decision," he called. "If you want to be our overseer, then show us you deserve it."
Gasps echoed. The air shifted. Like pressure building before a storm.
Dawn didn't reply immediately. He stepped forward slowly, hands at his sides, expression unreadable.
"I never asked for this role," he said. "But I won't walk away from your challenge either."
The circle tightened.
Gary watched with a grim smile. "And so the volcano finally erupts."
Ingrid stood beside him, quiet as ever, her gaze bouncing between the two boys. "Do you think he's ready?"
"For what?" Gary asked.
"To show them."
On the side, Instructor Valeris watched with arms folded. "Let it happen."
"But it's madness," Lysandra hissed. "They're not just clashing egos—this is a battle of Celestial Paths."
The Grand Instructor only observed, one brow raised as if in amusement. As if something long-awaited was finally unfolding.
Caden activated his first mark.
Raging Flame Punch.
Nine halos blazed to life behind him, each ring pulsing with fire. His right fist ignited, crackling with the concentrated wrath of a Celestial mark born from flame.
And the battle began.
---
Perfect—let's carry the chapter forward into the battle, with rising momentum and crowd reactions, and end right as Dawn is about to release his transcended halo. Here's the extended version of Chapter 90, continuing directly from the scene already established:
---
Caden shot forward like a bullet wreathed in fire.
His first strike came swinging low, the Raging Flame Punch trailing ember sparks across the air. But Dawn wasn't there. A gentle sway to the left, a sidestep—and the blow carved empty space.
Caden didn't stop.
A second punch followed, a third, then a fourth, each strike faster and hotter than the last. His fists howled through the air like twin comets.
Dawn moved like wind between cracks in stone—never rushing, never colliding. He didn't block. He didn't strike. He only moved, weaving effortlessly between Caden's blazing fury.
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"He's not even fighting back."
"Is this some kind of mockery?"
"No... he's studying him."
Caden snarled. "Stand still, damn you!"
He twisted, delivering a spinning backfist that should've hit. Dawn dipped under it like flowing water, then vaulted over a sweep kick, landing behind Caden with barely a whisper of his steps.
That was worse than a blow. That was humiliation.
Caden's fury swelled. His second mark ignited.
Fire Burst.
His entire body flared—then exploded in a ring of flame, a volatile nova meant to burn everything within reach.
Students stumbled back, heat licking at their faces.
"Watch out!"
"Back! Give them space!"
The instructors erected a quick barrier of light, shielding the watchers from the shockwave.
Even Gary raised an eyebrow. "Well, he's not holding back."
Ingrid's eyes narrowed. "And Dawn hasn't even begun."
At the heart of the inferno, smoke twisted, crackling with red-orange tongues.
Caden panted, chest heaving, searching the flames for any sign of his target.
Then—movement.
Dawn stepped through the haze untouched, clothes unburnt, gaze calm as dusk.
"You're done yet?" he asked.
Caden growled. "Stop dodging and fight me!"
A hush settled.
Dawn exhaled softly. His feet slid apart. His posture shifted—not aggressive, not defensive—centered.
Then came the moment that broke the breath of the crowd.
His presence deepened.
Like a weight being unshackled.
Like the first moment of night when stars begin to shine.
From behind his back, from within his soul—it emerged.
A single, enormous halo.
Unlike Caden's stacked rings, this one formed a full circle that surrounded him, transcended in shape and feel. At its center was either Radiance or Void—none could tell. The edges flickered with strange, shifting light, like reality bent around it.
And then—
---