Long before the chaos of Ramuza's hall… There was another battlefield. Not of demons or catastrophes, but of two stubborn souls.
Dax was younger, rougher, a wild brute swinging his fists like storms. His transfiguration wasn't refined yet—his arms stretched into iron blades, his legs into blunt cannons. He loved showing off, crushing training dummies, and mocking every mage weaker than him.
And then came Nyra. The prodigy summoner. Silver hair tied in a braid, her eyes sharp, her presence commanding. Behind her stood her first summon, a tiny spirit wolf pup glowing faintly silver. She was calm, but her calmness felt like arrogance to Dax.
"You think your little pets can fight me?" Dax sneered, punching his fist into stone until cracks spread. Nyra didn't flinch. She just smirked. "You're loud. That's all you are. A loud hammer."
That was it. Sparks flew.
