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Chapter 38 - Chapter 38 - Crimson Awakening (Part 2)

The air around Eryon shimmered.

The faint reddish glow along his skin deepened, the hue becoming more vivid, more alive with every passing second. His movements grew sharper, his strikes heavier. Even Vaen, still smirking, began to narrow his eyes, noticing the subtle but undeniable change.

Eryon pressed forward again, and this time, when his blade clashed against Vaen's casual parries, the impact was different—louder, heavier. Vaen had to exert actual force to deflect it.

In the instructor's balcony, murmurs stirred.

"Are you seeing this?" one elder whispered.

Another nodded, eyes gleaming. "The boy's affinity… it's awakening."

Ardan Dawnmere watched carefully, his hands tightening around the arms of his chair.

"It's rare," another instructor said. "For a child with no prominent bloodline to manifest elemental awakening this early… before formal Stellar Forger training."

"A natural prodigy," a professor muttered, scribbling notes frantically.

"Or something deeper," Ardan said under his breath, his gaze sharpening.

Back in the arena, Vaen continued to mock, though there was now a wary edge to his arrogance.

"So," Vaen said, circling, "the insect grows fangs."

Eryon didn't answer.

He lunged.

This time, the clash sent a shockwave rippling outward. Dust kicked up, and the crowd gasped.

In a flash, Eryon's blade grazed Vaen's shoulder—a shallow cut, but it drew blood.

A single crimson drop slid down Vaen's pristine uniform.

The golden-haired prodigy froze, staring at the blood.

Then he smiled—a wide, feral grin that bared his teeth.

"Good," he hissed. "Now… now I'll destroy you properly."

In one fluid motion, Vaen unsheathed his sword.

Golden light erupted around him, and the air trembled.

Without hesitation, Vaen launched himself forward, sword flashing like a meteor.

Eryon met him head-on.

The battlefield exploded into a frenzied storm of clashes—steel on steel, fire against radiance. Each collision sent thunderous echoes through the arena, forcing the spectators to shield their eyes from the brilliance of their confrontation.

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