The days following Kaelen's first attack passed in a strange blur for Salvus. Electricity pulsed faintly through his veins even in sleep, a constant reminder that he was no longer an ordinary man. He practiced small sparks on quiet streets, sometimes startling cats, birds, and the occasional unlucky villager who happened to glance too closely.
Salvus had started to develop a peculiar habit: puffing out his chest whenever he felt a surge of power, muttering phrases like, "No one will harm the innocent while I stand!" or "I am the storm they never expected!" He hadn't yet realized that most people walking past him simply stared, bewildered, or hurried away. His heroic posturing, combined with his occasional clumsiness, often resulted in collisions with street lanterns or knocking over crates of vegetables. Each time, he would jump back, sparks scattering accidentally, and mutter sheepishly, "Ah—saving the day requires… caution."
It was during one of these practice sessions that Kaelen reappeared. The Blood General had returned, this time with the intention of testing Salvus further. Soldiers formed a cautious circle, ready for battle. But when Kaelen stepped forward, he did not immediately attack. Instead, his eyes swept over Salvus with curiosity, noting the control he had started to gain.
Salvus, noticing Kaelen's approach, puffed out his chest again, and this time—accidentally sneezed. A small spark flew from his hand, setting a nearby barrel slightly on fire. He yelped, stumbling backward, but Kaelen only raised an eyebrow. "Your flair for theatrics is… unique," Kaelen said, the corners of his mouth twitching in the faintest hint of a smile.
The battle commenced. This time, it was not just raw power—it was strategy. Salvus noticed uneven cobblestones around the square and realized he could use them to his advantage. He sent a controlled surge of electricity through the stones, making them leap slightly, creating a minor but disorienting obstacle for Kaelen. Kaelen blinked, impressed, but responded with his own creativity: he manipulated the blood in the air, creating thin threads that could subtly shift the movement of the stones or redirect electricity, testing Salvus's adaptability.
Salvus quickly adapted, sending arcs of electricity that followed Kaelen's own threads, using them as conductors to surprise him with sudden bursts at unexpected angles. Kaelen, equally cunning, twisted the blood midair to form a reflective surface, causing Salvus's sparks to ricochet harmlessly before he could adjust. Both combatants began to smile faintly, recognizing a rare kindred spirit in one another—someone who matched not just power, but intelligence and improvisation.
At one point, Salvus feigned a stumble, drawing Kaelen into a misstep. He used a small electric pulse to make a puddle glint dangerously on the ground, and Kaelen's focus briefly faltered as he tried to predict where the next spark would strike. Salvus capitalized on the distraction, creating a controlled electric ring that forced Kaelen to step back, and for the first time, Salvus gained the upper hand—not through brute force, but clever manipulation of the environment.
Finally, Salvus and Kaelen faced each other directly. Sparks danced along Salvus's fingertips, while Kaelen's blood swirled in elegant, lethal arcs around him. Salvus shouted, "We don't have to destroy each other! There's more at stake than your pride, more at stake than my life!" His stance was firm, his eyes unwavering.
Kaelen paused, evaluating. He saw a combination of determination, courage, and ingenuity in Salvus. The young man's unconventional tactics and quick thinking had earned his respect. Slowly, Kaelen lowered his hands, letting the blood retract harmlessly. "You are… remarkable," he admitted. "I cannot strike you down—not because of strength, but because you fight with both mind and heart." He stepped closer. "Perhaps… our paths align. I will stand with you, for now. Let us see where this fire in you leads."
Salvus blinked in surprise, a mix of disbelief and excitement coursing through him. He had not only survived the second attack but had convinced Kaelen—one of the most feared generals—to join his side.
Later, as they walked through the town together, Kaelen's attempts at seriousness often faltered in the presence of Salvus's antics. Salvus would trip on his own feet, nearly sending sparks onto Kaelen's cloak, who would sigh, shake his head, and mutter, "Do try to remain upright, hero."
"Hero?" Salvus repeated, sparks dancing harmlessly on his fingertips. "I… I guess I can try that title!"
Kaelen only grumbled but a faint laugh escaped him. It was a rare sound, and Salvus noted it carefully. He had not only gained a powerful ally but also someone whose rare humor could lighten even the most dangerous of situations.
As night fell, Salvus stood on the small balcony of the inn, electricity humming softly along his arms. He stared out over the quiet town, feeling for the first time a true sense of purpose. He was no longer powerless. He was no longer insignificant. He was a force, a protector, and perhaps, in time, a hero who could change the fate of the world—chaotic sparks, heroic speeches, clever strategies, and clumsy theatrics included.