The wasteland shook under the pounding of countless boots. Kael stood atop the ridge, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. Below, the Shadow Legion advanced in perfect formation, their black armor gleaming under the rising sun.
The wanderer stood beside him, sword ready, eyes sharp. "They've learned from the last fight," she warned. "This time, they'll come with everything they've got."
Kael's hands glowed faintly, the mark on his chest pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. He had trained, mastered small bursts, learned to shape the silver light — but today would demand more. Today, he would push beyond.
"Kael!" the wanderer shouted as a squad of soldiers charged from the left flank. "Now!"
Kael thrust his hands forward. A wave of silver light exploded outward, a controlled surge that threw several soldiers to the ground. Unlike before, this light did not just repel — it struck with precision, slicing through weapons and armor without harming those Kael did not intend to kill.
The soldiers faltered, surprised by the boy's control. Kael felt the energy pulse stronger now, feeding on his intent, his focus, and his determination.
"Keep moving!" the wanderer called, dashing into the fray. Kael followed, shaping small spears of silver light in his hands, launching them with deadly accuracy. Each strike hit its mark, forcing the Legion to regroup and hesitate.
From the horizon, General Kaelith appeared, mounted on a massive black steed. His presence radiated authority and threat. "The boy's power grows," Kaelith murmured, eyes narrowing. "Contain him… or perish."
Kael clenched his fists, calling more energy from within. The silver light responded, forming shields around him and the wanderer while launching controlled attacks at the advancing soldiers. The ground cracked beneath the force, but Kael maintained perfect control — for the first time, he was truly a master of his power.
He leaped forward, striking at a cluster of elite soldiers. Light formed blades in his hands, spinning like whips before striking armor and weapons, leaving the soldiers disoriented and forced to retreat. The wanderer's strikes complemented his, her sword a storm of precision and strength.
Kaelith's eyes narrowed. He had expected fear in the boy, chaos, uncontrolled bursts of power. But Kael's control, his discipline, was beyond anything the general had anticipated. This was no longer a child — this was a weapon in his own right.
Kael felt the mark pulse faster, the energy surging like a living flame. He focused all of it, not in one massive blast, but in a coordinated pattern — spears of light, spinning barriers, slicing edges — each movement precise and deliberate.
The Shadow Legion soldiers fell back, forced to regroup at a distance. Kael's chest heaved, arms trembling, but the mark pulsed calmly now, obedient, harmonized with his intent.
The wanderer placed a hand on his shoulder. "You've done it. You've pushed yourself further than ever. But remember — the battle is not over. Kaelith will adapt. The next attack will be even more dangerous."
Kael lowered his hands, the light fading slowly, leaving trails of silver dust in the air. Sweat dripped down his face, exhaustion heavy in every muscle, but a rare smile flickered across his lips.
Kaelith watched from afar, his expression unreadable. The boy had grown too fast, too strong. The cursed star child had awakened fully, and the battlefield had already begun to change.
Kael felt it — a surge of confidence, of purpose. The Shadow Legion would come again, yes. But he was ready. He had mastered control, shaped the raw force into something disciplined, deadly, precise.
The wasteland stretched endless and unforgiving before him. Dust swirled around the boy and the wanderer, whispering of challenges yet to come.
But Kael was no longer just surviving. He was preparing to meet the storm.
And this time, he would not merely endure.
He would fight.
He would win.