Kaelen's eyes opened to darkness.
For a moment, he lay still, listening to the quiet hum of the academy's power grid through the walls. His body felt different—lighter, more centered. The six-hour cultivation session had left its mark. His core sat heavier in his chest, denser than before, and his aether channels felt clearer, the flow smoother, though it was subtle.
He checked his wristband. 5:47 AM.
The alarm wasn't set to go off for another thirteen minutes, but his body had already decided it was time to wake.
Kaelen sat up slowly, rolled his shoulders, and felt no stiffness. His muscles responded with the kind of readiness that only came from deep, restorative rest.
Today was Wednesday.
4:00 PM. Kira Ashton. Combat Dome 3.
The thought settled in his mind without anxiety.
He stood, dressed in training clothes, and headed outside.
...
The academy grounds were empty in the pre-dawn darkness. A few lights glowed in distant windows—other early risers, insomniacs, or students finishing late projects. The air carried the approaching autumn chill, sharp and clean.
Kaelen moved through his routine.
Fifty push-ups. His arms moved with controlled precision, the burn distant and manageable.
Fifty pull-ups. The low rail near the outer training grounds supported his weight without issue, his grip steady.
Five miles. His pace faster than usual without conscious effort.
By the time he finished, the sun had rised.
[Daily Quest Complete: Physical Conditioning]
[Rewards: +30 XP (Base & System) | +1 Stat Point]
[Base Level: 9] (930/2300 XP)
[System Level: 7] (1630/2100 XP)
[Stat Points: 18]
[Weekly Quest Progress: Daily Quests (3/7)]
Three days down. Four to go.
Kaelen wiped sweat from his face and headed back to shower and prepare for classes.
...
The class was already half-full when Kaelen arrived. He found a seat near the middle, settling in as other students filtered through the door.
Vyne slid into the seat beside him without warning, her silver-white hair catching the overhead lights. "Morning, celebrity."
"Still calling me that," Kaelen said.
"Always." Vyne's violet eyes sparkled with amusement. She set her bag down and stretched lazily. "Ready for this afternoon?"
"As ready as I can be."
"She's good. Really good." Vyne's expression shifted, uncharacteristically serious for a moment. "But so are you."
"Thanks."
The seriousness vanished, replaced by her usual playful energy. "Don't die. I still need you for Saturday's mission."
Kaelen raised an eyebrow. "Concerned about me or the mission?"
"Both. Mostly the mission." She grinned.
Before Kaelen could respond, something occurred to him. He glanced at Vyne, then around the lecture hall. "Wait. What are you doing in this class?"
Vyne blinked innocently. "Attending? Like everyone else?"
"You're in Unique Combat Division. This is a general foundational class. Most Unique students take specialized theory courses."
"Do they?" Vyne's smile widened. "Fascinating."
"Vyne."
"Kaelen."
"Why are you here?"
"Because I wanted to be." She leaned back in her chair, completely unbothered. "Is that a problem?"
"That's not an answer."
"Sure it is. Just not the one you wanted." Vyne pulled out her tablet, opening it to display lecture notes that looked suspiciously blank. "Stop overthinking everything. I'm here because I'm here. Accept the mystery."
Before Kaelen could press further, the professor entered the lecture hall. Conversations died immediately.
Kaelen let the question about Vyne drop. She wasn't going to give him a straight answer, and pushing would just waste energy he needed for this afternoon.
The lecture proceeded as usual... diagrams materializing above the podium, students taking notes. Useful information about energy flow optimization and breakthrough indicators. Kaelen absorbed it, filing details away for later.
Between classes, students moved through the corridors in steady streams. A few glanced at Kaelen as he passed, recognition flickering before they looked away. Word about the afternoon fight had spread, as it always did in the academy's invisible gossip network.
"Kaelen Burn's fighting someone at 4:00 PM..."
"Who?"
"Some Mage Combat Division student. First-year."
"Think he'll win?"
"Probably. He beat Jax Hanlay and Matthias Pyrell. This is just sparring."
Kaelen kept walking, ignoring the whispers. Reputation was a double-edged blade—it drew attention, but it also created expectations. People would be watching this afternoon, judging, measuring.
He just needed to win.
...
12:30 PM
Kaelen sat down, setting his tray beside Lira's.
"How are you holding up?" Lira asked without looking up.
"Fine," Kaelen said.
She finally glanced over, studying him briefly. "You look calm. That's good."
Daniel looked up eagerly, fingers already moving toward his tablet. "Do you want me to pull up tactical data on her? I can search the database right now—match records, fighting patterns, anything public—"
"No," Kaelen said gently. "Thanks, but I'm going in with fresh perspective. No preconceptions."
Daniel hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Okay. If you're sure."
"I am."
Torven's deep voice cut through the conversation. "Going in blind isn't ideal."
"I know."
The table fell into comfortable silence for a moment, broken only by the ambient noise of the cafeteria around them.
Daniel fidgeted with his fork. "Are you nervous?"
"No," Kaelen said honestly.
"That's good." Daniel adjusted his glasses. "I mean, I'm nervous for you, but that's probably not helpful."
Kaelen smiled faintly. "It's appreciated anyway."
The conversation shifted to other topics—Daniel's prototype testing, Torven's training session that had somehow ended with a sparring dummy embedded in the ceiling, general academy gossip.
By the time lunch ended, Kaelen felt centered. Calm. The pre-fight jitters that had plagued him before facing Jax and Matthias were absent.
...
Combat Dome 3 - 3:50 PM
The entrance to Combat Dome 3 was already crowded when Kaelen arrived.
Students packed the corridors leading to the arena, their voices blending into a low roar of anticipation. Far more than he'd expected. Easily over two thousand, maybe more, filling the tiered seating that rose in concentric circles around the central fighting floor.
Most of them were here for him, he realized. Not because they knew Kira Ashton, her name carried no particular weight in the academy's social hierarchy. But Kaelen Burn? The first-year who'd fought a Guardian Advanced Sentinel and an Adept Intermediate heir?
That drew crowds.
Whispers followed him as he moved through the entrance tunnel toward the staging area.
"That's him..."
"Kaelen Burn..."
"Think he'll win?"
"Obviously. Who's he even fighting?"
"Some Mage Combat Division student. Don't know her."
"Probably another easy win then."
Kaelen kept his expression neutral, blocking out the noise. Expectations could be as dangerous as opponents—they created pressure, distraction, mental weight that interfered with focus.
He reached the staging area—a small chamber adjacent to the arena floor where fighters prepared in the final minutes before matches. The walls were bare metal, the lighting harsh and clinical. A single bench occupied one wall.
Kaelen sat, closed his eyes, and breathed.
In through the nose. Out through the mouth.
His aether flowed smoothly through his channels, circulating without resistance.
A chime sounded—five minutes to match start.
Kaelen stood, rolled his shoulders, and walked toward the tunnel leading to the arena floor.
..
The arena opened before him like a colosseum.
Thirty meters in diameter, the fighting floor was reinforced crystal that gleamed under the overhead lights. Suppression barriers shimmered faintly at the edges, invisible walls that prevented techniques from spilling into the crowd. Tiered seating rose in steep circles, packed with students whose faces blurred into an indistinct mass of anticipation.
The noise was overwhelming. Thousands of voices, conversations, shouts, the general chaos of a crowd waiting for something to happen.
Kaelen walked to the center, his footsteps echoing against the crystal floor.
Across from him, Kira emerged from the opposite tunnel.
She looked composed. Confident. Her dark auburn hair was pulled back in a practical style, her hazel eyes sharp and assessing. She wore standard combat training clothes—no armor, no excessive equipment. Just her and her abilities.
They made eye contact across the thirty-meter distance.
No words exchanged. Just mutual acknowledgment.
A figure descended from the elevated referee platform—a woman in academy instructor uniform, her expression professionally neutral. She landed between them with practiced ease, her presence commanding immediate attention.
The crowd noise died to a low murmur.
"Standard sanctioned sparring match," the referee announced, her voice amplified across the arena. "First to yield, knockout, or referee stoppage. Non-lethal techniques only. Combatants may use equipment and abilities within academy regulations."
She looked at Kaelen. "Kaelen Burn. Ready?"
"Ready."
She looked at Kira. "Kira Ashton. Ready?"
"Ready."
The referee stepped backward, raising one hand. "Begin on my signal."
Kaelen's Chrono-Perception activated automatically, the world fracturing into slow motion. His Spatial Awareness expanded outward, mapping the arena in three-dimensional clarity.
Kira's stance shifted subtly.
The referee's hand dropped.
"Begin!"
...
Kira moved first.
Not a charge. She just walked forward calmly, her right hand raising to chest level with palm forward.
Kaelen watched carefully, his perception slowing her movements into readable frames.
No visible projectile formed. Her hand simply... extended.
But something was wrong.
The air around her palm shimmered faintly, like heat distortion but inverted. Kaelen's instincts prickled—not danger exactly.
He activated Flash Step, blurring left to create distance and test her reaction speed.
[–19 A.E.]
[A.E.: 461/480]
Kira didn't turn immediately. She rotated smoothly, unhurried, tracking his new position with calm precision. Still no attack launched. Just observation.
Kaelen formed an aether construct experimentally—a simple shield, basic defensive structure.
[Aether Manipulation Lv. 4]
[–15 A.E.]
[A.E.: 446/480]
The shield materialized, but something felt off. The formation took half a second longer than usual. The structure was solid but sluggish, like building through resistance.
Kira smiled faintly. "Feeling it already?"
Kaelen's eyes narrowed. The arena floor felt... colder? He glanced down briefly. No visible frost, no ice. But the temperature had definitely dropped.
Not by much. Maybe three or four degrees. Barely noticeable unless you were paying attention.
But his aether flow had slowed proportionally.
Understanding clicked.
"Thermal manipulation," Kaelen muttered.
Kira's smile widened slightly. "Smart. Most people don't realize until it's too late."
She wasn't launching direct attacks. She was changing the environment. Cooling the air gradually, making his aether sluggish without him noticing until the effect compounded.
Kaelen adjusted his stance. "Clever."
"Thank you." Kira lowered her hand, settling into a ready position. "Your move."
The crowd murmured, sensing something happening but not understanding what. The fight looked almost static from their perspective, two fighters standing and talking, not engaging.
But Kaelen understood now. This wasn't going to be a straightforward brawl. This was environmental warfare.
He couldn't let her establish control.
Kaelen surged forward.
Flash Step closed the distance in a blur of motion, bringing him within striking range. His fist, coated with aether from Aether Manipulation, drove toward her midsection—fast, direct, no fancy techniques.
[–19 A.E.]
[A.E.: 427/480]
Kira reacted instantly.
Her hand swept upward, and ice materialized between them—a barrier that formed in a fraction of a second, it was smooth and thick. Kaelen's fist connected with the frozen surface.
CRACK
The barrier fractured, spider-web patterns spreading across its surface, but it held. Kira slid backward from the impact, maintaining distance effortlessly.
The temperature dropped further.
Kaelen's breath misted in the air—visible now, impossible to miss. Eight degrees below normal? Ten?
His muscles felt slightly heavier. His movements a fraction slower.
Kira didn't wait. Her hand flicked forward, and three ice projectiles launched toward him, sharp shards, fast and precise, aimed at his torso and legs.
Kaelen activated Spatial Warp.
[–24 A.E.]
[A.E.: 403/480]
Space distorted around him, his position shifting by a meter to the right. The projectiles passed through empty air where he'd been standing, shattering against the arena floor behind him.
But the movement felt slower than it should be. The spatial displacement lagged, his body fighting against something invisible.
The cold. It was affecting everything... his aether, his muscles and his reflexes.
Kira pressed the advantage, launching another volley. Ice shards rained toward him in a spread pattern, cutting off escape routes.
Kaelen formed multiple shields with Aether Manipulation, layering them in front of him.
[–30 A.E.]
[A.E.: 373/480]
The constructs materialized sluggishly, taking nearly a full second to solidify. The ice shards impacted, shattering the outer layers but stopping before reaching him.
The crowd reacted, a wave of sound, half excitement, half concerned.
"He's slowing down..."
"What's she doing?"
"Temperature control... she's a thermal Mage!"
Kaelen gritted his teeth. The arena floor beneath his feet was cold now, frost beginning to form in thin patches. His breath came in visible clouds. The temperature had dropped at least fifteen degrees since the fight started.
And it was still dropping.
He tried Temporal Drag, targeting the area around Kira.
[Temporal Drag Lv. 1]
[–14 A.E./sec]
The skill activated, slowing time within the eight-meter radius by twenty-five percent. Kira's movements became noticeably sluggish, her reactions delayed.
But so did Kaelen's.
The cold compounded with the temporal effect, dragging on his own movements even outside the direct zone. His aether burned through the skill's cost while providing minimal advantage.
He released it after three seconds.
[–42 A.E. total]
[A.E.: 331/480]
Not worth it. The synergy was working against him.
Kira capitalized immediately. She rushed forward during his recovery, ice coating her fists like frozen gauntlets. Her strikes came fast—jab, cross, low kick—each one enhanced by the crystalline covering.
Kaelen raised his arms to block.
The first jab connected with his forearm. The impact was solid, harder than expected. The second strike—a cross toward his ribs—he deflected partially. The low kick caught his left leg, sweeping under his guard.
[Aether Harden Lv. 1 - Passive Mode Active]
[–25 HP]
[HP: 355/380]
Kaelen stumbled backward, catching himself before falling. His leg throbbed where the kick had connected, cold spreading through the impact point like venom.
Kira didn't relent. She pressed forward, maintaining pressure, forcing him onto the defensive. Each exchange, the temperature dropped another degree. The frost on the arena floor spread wider, climbing up the suppression barriers in delicate patterns.
Twenty degrees below normal now. Maybe more.
Kaelen's aether flow was at sixty percent efficiency. His constructs formed at half speed. His movements felt like moving through thick liquid.
And Kira was just getting started.
She launched another ice construct, a larger one this time, a wall that swept across the arena floor like a wave, pushing him backward, limiting his space.
Kaelen used Flash Step to escape, blurring over the frozen barrier.
[–23 A.E.]
[A.E.: 308/480]
But the skill cost more energy than usual. The cold was affecting his aether expenditure, making everything less efficient.
He landed on the far side of the arena, breathing hard. His body temperature was dropping. His fingers felt numb. His breath came in sharp gasps that misted white in the air.
The crowd noise became distant, muffled by the environmental effect Kira had created.
This was bad.
She was draining him without landing serious hits. Environmental attrition, slow and orderly, bleeding his advantages away degree by degree.
Kaelen needed to change the game.
He couldn't win a prolonged fight. Not like this. He needed to end it now, burn his resources for a decisive strike before the cold rendered him completely ineffective.
He made his decision.
Kaelen activated Spatial Warp, distorting his position to create false positioning.
[–24 A.E.]
[A.E.: 284/480]
Then Flash Step, closing distance from an unexpected angle.
[–19 A.E.]
[A.E.: 265/480]
The combination was disorienting, his image appearing in two places simultaneously before the spatial distortion collapsed. Kira's eyes tracked the false position for a fraction of a second, her was reaction delayed.
That was all Kaelen needed.
He activated Temporal Lock.
[–33 A.E.]
[A.E.: 232/480]
Kira froze.
Completely. Time stopped for her, locking her in place mid-motion. Her body became slightly translucent, suspended in temporal stasis.
Three seconds. That's all he had.
Kaelen used Flash Step again, repositioning behind her frozen form.
[–19 A.E.]
[A.E.: 217/480]
Then he began forming Spatial Lance.
[Spatial Lance Lv. 1]
[–38 A.E.]
[A.E.: 179/480]
Space compressed in his palm, distorting into a razor-thin projectile that hummed with barely contained power. The air around it bent, light refracting at strange angles.
He aimed low. Right thigh. For mobility damage, not lethal.
The Temporal Lock expired.
Kira unfroze, awareness flooding back. Her eyes widened fractionally as she registered Kaelen's position behind her, the lance already formed and releasing.
Too close to dodge.
The Spatial Lance shot forward.
SHRIEEEK
The projectile tore through space itself, a streak of distorted reality that moved faster than sight. It connected with Kira's right thigh, punching through muscle and flesh with surgical precision.
She gasped, her leg buckling. Blood welled from the clean puncture wound, hot against the cold air.
Kira caught herself on one knee, gritting her teeth. Her hand moved to the wound instinctively, ice forming over it to slow the bleeding.
The crowd erupted in shock, awe, and concerns blending into a wall of noise.
But Kira didn't yield.
She looked up at Kaelen, her hazel eyes burning with determination.
"Not... done yet," she managed through gritted teeth.
Then the temperature plummeted.
Not gradually this time. Drastically.
The arena floor turned white with frost in seconds. The air itself seemed to crystallize, moisture freezing mid-breath. The suppression barriers glowed brighter as they contain the environmental effect.
Minus five degrees Celsius. Minus ten. It was dropping fast.
Kaelen's movements slowed to a crawl. His aether constructs failed to form. His muscles locked up, shivering uncontrollably.
[–10 HP ]
[HP: 345/380]
His health point was taking a hit due to environmental pressure. If this was nature's cold, he won't be facing this much of an effect. But it was an ability.
Kira stood barely, favoring her uninjured leg. She raised both hands. Ice gathered between her palms, condensing into a massive sphere of frozen energy that pulsed with contained power.
"Thermal Cascade," she whispered.
The sphere expanded, then erupted outward in a wave of absolute zero cold. The technique swept across the arena floor, a tsunami of freezing energy that consumed everything in its path.
Kaelen had seconds to react.
His aether was too sluggish for shields. Flash Step would put him in the wave's path. Spatial Warp wouldn't create enough distance.
Only one option.
Aether Burst. Maximum output.
[Aether Burst Lv. 1]
[–29 A.E.]
[A.E.: 150/480]
Kaelen compressed every available point of aether into his palm, forming a sphere of explosive energy. Then he released it directly into the incoming freeze wave.
BOOM
The collision was catastrophic.
Explosive force met absolute cold, creating a shockwave that rattled the suppression barriers. Steam erupted where the two techniques clashed, filling the arena with thick white mist that obscured all vision.
Both fighters were thrown backward by the recoil.
Kaelen hit the arena floor hard, rolling twice before stopping. His vision swam, ears ringing from the impact. His body temperature was dangerously low, hypothermia setting in at the edges.
[–35 HP]
[HP: 310/380]
Through the mist, he could barely see Kira's silhouette. She was down, struggling to rise, her injured leg preventing her from standing quickly.
Kaelen forced himself up. Every muscle screamed in protest, cold and exhaustion warring for dominance. He activated Flash Step one more time, burning precious energy for positioning.
[–19 A.E.]
[A.E.: 131/480]
He appeared at Kira's injured side, fist already moving. Aether coated his knuckles.
The strike connected with her ribs. It was a clean, solid, and a controlled force.
Kira was thrown sideways, hitting the arena floor and rolling to a stop. She tried to push herself up,her arms were trembling, but her injured leg gave out. She collapsed back down, gasping.
The referee appeared through the dissipating mist.
She assessed both fighters quickly. Kira was down and unable to rise, and Kaelen was standing but barely.
"Match concluded," the referee announced, her voice cutting through the arena. "Victory by referee stoppage: Kaelen Burn."
The crowd exploded.
Half in celebration, half in shocked disbelief. The noise was deafening—thousands of voices blending into a wall of sound that Kaelen barely registered.
His legs gave out. He caught himself on one knee, breathing hard, his body shaking from cold and exhaustion.
Medical staff rushed onto the arena floor, two were heading for Kira, one approaching Kaelen.
"Can you stand?" the medic asked, crouching beside him.
"Yeah," Kaelen managed. "Just... cold."
"Your body temperature is dangerously low. We need to get you warmed up immediately."
The medic wrapped a thermal blanket around Kaelen's shoulders, the material glowing faintly with embedded heating elements. Warmth flooded through him, pushing back the hypothermia's edge.
Across the arena, the other medics were treating Kira's leg. The Spatial Lance wound was clean but serious, a puncture through muscle that would take years to heal properly even with advanced medicine and technology, in the pre-Descent era. But thanks to aether and technology being advanced, even a lost limb could be regenerated.
Kira sat up slowly, accepting treatment but keeping her eyes on Kaelen. Her expression was complicated, a mix of frustration, respect, and acknowledgment.
Kaelen stood carefully, the thermal blanket still wrapped around him, and walked over to where Kira sat.
He extended a hand. "Good fight."
Kira stared at the hand for a moment, then took it. Her grip was firm despite the injury. "You're better than I expected."
"Your thermal control is terrifying," Kaelen replied honestly.
"Almost had you." Kira's lips quirked into a faint smirk.
"Almost."
She released his hand, leaning back as the medics continued working on her leg. "Next time, I won't make the same mistakes."
"Next time, I'll be ready for the cold."
"We'll see."
His wristband chimed.
[Victory Confirmed]
[Current RP: 1887]
[RP Earned: +156]
[Current RP: 2,043]
The system chimed into view.
[Weekly Quest Progress: Win 3 Sanctioned Sparring Matches (1/3)]
Kaelen dismissed the System notification, focusing on the present. The crowd was still loud, students filing out of the arena in waves, their voices carrying fragments of conversation.
"...actually won..."
"...that Spatial Lance though..."
"...she had him on the ropes the entire time..."
"...bet he got lucky..."
Kaelen ignored them. Opinions didn't matter. Results did.
He'd won. One sparring match down, two more needed. The weekly quest progressed steadily.
The medic guided him toward the exit. "You need to get checked properly. Hypothermia can cause complications even after warming up."
"I know," Kaelen said. "I'll go to the medical bay."
"Good. And rest tonight. Your body's been through significant stress."
Kaelen nodded, letting the medic lead him through the exit tunnel and away from the arena's noise.
Behind him, Kira watched him leave, her expression thoughtful.
Then she looked down at her injured leg, the ice compress already numbing the pain.
"Spatial Lance," she muttered. "That's a problem."
One of the medics glanced at her. "What?"
"Nothing." Kira closed her eyes, leaning back. "Just thinking about next time."
...
Kaelen's Dorm Room - 7:30 PM
The medical bay had cleared him after an hour of observation. Body temperature returned to normal, no lasting damage from hypothermia, the cold exposure effects already fading thanks to his passive Health Regeneration.
Now Kaelen sat at his desk, staring at his System interface.
[Base Level: 9] (930/2300 XP)
[System Level: 7] (1630/2100 XP)
[HP: 378/380] (regenerating)
[A.E.: 273/480] (regenerating)
[Stat Points: 18]
[Weekly Quest: Adaptive Trials]
[Progress:]
- Complete 7 Daily Quests Consecutively (3/7)
- Win 3 Sanctioned Sparring Matches (1/3)
- Complete 3 RP Missions (0/3)
- Kill 5 F-Rank Beasts (0/5)
- Cultivate for 10+ Hours (10/10) (Complete)
- Complete 1 Club Mission (0/1)
- Allocate 5 Stat Points (5/5) (Complete)
[Categories Complete: 2/7]
[Categories In Progress: 3/7]
Two complete. Three in progress. Five total achievable without the impossible requirements.
Enhanced rewards were still within reach.
Kaelen dismissed the interface and leaned back in his chair.
His body was sore, recovering from the fight. His aether reserves were low, but regenerating steadily.
His wristband chimed. A message from Lira.
>Lira: Heard you won. Nice work. Rest up—you looked half-frozen in that footage.
Kaelen smiled faintly and typed back.
>Kaelen: I'm fine. Just cold. Warming up now.
>Lira: Good. Don't push yourself tomorrow.
>Kaelen: I'll be fine by morning.
>Lira: If you say so.
>Kaelen: Thanks.
He set the wristband down and looked out the window. The city lights shimmered in the darkness, the academy's towers glowing softly against the night sky.
Tomorrow was Thursday. Training session, team assignments for Saturday's mission. Then Friday to prepare, and Saturday the mission itself.
One step at a time.
Kaelen stood, stretched carefully, and moved to his bed. Sleep would help more than anything else right now.
He lay down, pulling the blanket over himself, and closed his eyes.
One sparring match down. Two more to find. Saturday's mission might cover beasts and club requirements both.
Still on track.
Still moving forward.