Two days after the Archem Ruins mission, the morning sun spilled over Four Stars Academy in golden streaks. The trainees, still high on post-mission adrenaline, had returned to their routines—but the air buzzed with something new. Excitement. Expectation.
From the dorm balconies to the main courtyard, whispers ran like wildfire:
The Hero Academy from Marcellona was arriving.
Uniforms were immaculate, boots shined to mirror polish, and even the notoriously lazy upper-year squads showed up early to line the walkways. Banners bearing the Four Stars insignia rippled against a sharp breeze, the kind that carried a static charge before a storm.
On the main landing platform, Kime waited, coat tucked neatly, a faint smirk hiding behind his composure. Behind him stood Keel Kun, arms folded, his trademark silver bracer glinting under sunlight. Behind them, a handful of instructors formed a welcoming line—each distinct in
Sensei Pwain, the weaponry master, stood with his arms crossed, seven blades sheathed across his back. He seemed to dislike being there even more than having to have arranged his normally bushy hair.
Beside him, Old Man Ye, the combat specialist, squinted at the sky, grumbling something about "kids and their fancy foreign airships." Even as they waited, he was doing squats, with weights around his legs.
Professor Tedorinzu, all sharp edges and soft voice, idly adjusted the spectacles perched on his nose; faint traces of light shimmered on his fingertips as he measured the air's SE balance.
Next to him, Professor Fenrir, the History of SE and SST instructor, stood tall—long white hair tied in a low braid, her golden eyes catching every movement. She didn't need to do much to silence even the rowdiest students, her beauty demanded attention. However her attitude to life was one of sloth. Thought this was something only her students knew.
Behind them stood the senior instructors:
Instructor Vale, the Tactical Field Coordinator. He was currently teaching the first year trainees his course but as an elective.
Professor Harn, Elemental Studies; She unlike most of Four Stars Academy was still an active hero and she also served as the Vice Guild Master of Divine Scattles. A Guide mostly occupied by heroes of the advanced Blue Eyes Form to intermediate Denkei Forms. She didn't like to admit it but was quite a celebrity.
Lecturer Dray, Runes and Alchemy Studies. He
Serafine Lior, who oversaw Second Division sparring and strategy.
Together, they were the backbone of Four Stars—old, new, strict, or savage—but none without reputation.
A low hum swelled overhead.
The clouds split open, revealing a silver-crested airship descending through ribbons of wind. Its hull bore Marcellona's blue insignia, and trails of frost mist coiled from its vents as it docked above the platform.
Kime's lips curved faintly. "They're punctual."
The ramp extended with a resonant hiss, and the temperature immediately dropped several degrees.
The first to emerge was Ronga, third-year Ace of Hero Academy—lightning flickering faintly around her shoulders like an aura she couldn't fully turn off. She descended the ramp like she owned the sky, her grin equal parts confidence and challenge.
Behind her came two instructors. The first—a tall woman in a white coat lined with silver thread—walked with deliberate grace. Instructor Meris Veyna, Hero Academy's SE Discipline Head, was infamous for her razor wit and shorter patience. Her cool gaze swept the platform before she even reached the ground.
The second instructor, older, broad-shouldered, and heavily scarred, followed silently at her flank: Master Gendric, the Hero Academy's Field and Tactical Combat Advisor. He didn't speak; he didn't need to. The pressure that came off him was enough to make even Keel Kun's hand tighten slightly.
And then came the last—his presence cutting through the noise like a blade.
Prince Arizel Frost.
White hair, sharp silver eyes, and a presence that chilled even the light. Frost trailed from his boots with each step, and the faint glimmer of SE crystalized in his breath.
When his gaze swept across the Four Stars trainees, a few unconsciously shivered. This was not the same boy who had attempted entering Four Stars Academy nearly a year ago.
Kime stepped forward. "Welcome, delegation of Marcellona Hero Academy, to Four Stars Academy of Central Enclave. You honor us with your visit."
Meris Veyna inclined her head. "Headmaster Kime. The honor's mutual. We hope this exchange strengthens both our institutions."
"I assume we are the first to arrive?"
"Yes you are. Novello Institution from the Royal Kingdom of Carcarcat and Royale Flags from Brandish would be arriving by the end of the week."
"Wonderful. We have to make the best use of our time then I assume."
Her tone was polite, but her eyes were assessing every student, every aura, every power fluctuation in sight. She had basically told them she was measuring everyone's ability.
Behind the instructors, the Hero Academy trainees disembarked in perfect formation, posture rigid, faces unreadable. The difference in discipline was obvious—Marcellona's precision against Four Stars' barely-contained chaos.
Ronga, of course, ignored that completely. She stretched her arms above her head and looked around lazily. "Man, this place is bigger than I thought. Kinda gloomy though."
Sensei Pwain sighed under his breath. "And here I thought lightning was supposed to be bright."
Fenrir's lips twitched, suppressing a chuckle that made men falter. "Behave, Pwain." She purred.
Old Man Ye leaned forward slightly. "She's got spark. Pun intended."
"Don't encourage her," muttered Tedorinzu.
The murmur of conversation spread across the courtyard as both sides mingled. Four Stars trainees exchanged greetings—some stiff, some genuinely curious. But amid the chatter, a sharper note began to build.
Itekan was standing near the sparring field gate, hands in his pockets, half-listening as Keel Kun briefed the Hero Academy instructors. Then he heard it—an unmistakable voice.
"Itekan Lie! I am back to resume our duel" said Arizel Frost, his tone cutting, loud and deliberate.
Itekan froze for a second, a smirk slowly rising to his face. "And you are?"
Gasps and snickers flitted through the crowd.
Ronga perked up instantly. "Oh-ho. That was fun?"
Arizel growled in anger, he stepped closer, frost blooming faintly around his boots. "You're all talk. Just observe. I am no longer the naive prince you defeated a year ago."
"Huh?" Itekan tilted his head, then it hit him. "Ohh you're the Frost Domain dude... Ohh what was it again—Arruiel?"
"It's Arizel! You bastard!" Arizel said snapping.
The space between them tensed like a drawn bow.
A thin layer of frost spread across the ground, meeting tendrils of dark mist crawling outward.
Keel Kun's eyes narrowed. "Trainees—"
But before he could finish, the frost cracked.
In a single, sharp motion, both unleashed their auras. Fire and frost collided with a deafening hiss, scattering dust and sparks across the arena floor.
Gasps erupted from the onlookers.
Meris Veyna's expression hardened. "Control yourselves."
But Gendric raised one hand. "No—let them." His gravelly voice rumbled through the air. "You can't stop fire with words. Might as well shape the burn."
Keel Kun looked at Headmaster Kime for futher instructions. Kime merely nodded and sighed softly. "So much for formalities."
Meris clicked her tongue. "Then let me propose a friendly match. An exhibition event, timed, referee present."
"Agreed," Keel Kun said. "We'll ensure the barrier holds."
Fenrir looked over her shoulder, murmuring to Tedorinzu, "They'll destroy half the courtyard again, won't they?"
He smiled faintly. "Without question." He had grown to have a soft spot for Itekan, ever since he had Itoyea broke into his lab. He was one of his best students. His skill at manipulating and reconstructing Spiritual Energy was years beyond his peers and he knew it too. However Tedorinzu couldn't deny it. The one flaw he had. Just like everyone who had tasted power—He was reckless. And with his recent boost in power. It spelt overconfidence. A path he himself had once trodded.
The instructors moved quickly, forming a containment field around the sparring ground. Trainees crowded the viewing deck, Ronga already climbing onto the railing like a front-row spectator.
"Finally," she said, eyes gleaming. "This is gonna be fun."
The air tightened, vibrating with energy as the barrier sealed. Inside it stood Itekan and Arizel—two prodigies, two opposite elements, and too much pride to step down.
The moment the field stabilized, both vanished.
A shockwave rippled outward. Itekan's silhouette blurred in red-black streaks, each step warping shadow and light. Arizel countered with blinding precision, ice forming instantly where Itekan's strikes would land.
Their movements were pure velocity—strike, vanish, counter, vanish again. The crowd could barely follow the rhythm, only flashes of fire and frost colliding midair like opposing meteors.
A single misstep sent Itekan tumbling backward, his boots scraping frost. He launched himself forward again, weaving his flames into a spiraling trail that melted Arizel's advancing ice blades.
Arizel's expression never broke focus. "You can see it can't you!! I've grown!!."
"Tsk. Yeah, you've learnt more than just your family's technique. But that doesn't change anything!"
Itekan twisted low, sliding under a wall of frost, reappearing behind Arizel with a burst of speed that cracked the air. His strike landed—a shockwave forcing Arizel backward—but the prince absorbed it creating a glacial barrier that fractured and reformed instantly.
The arena floor steamed.
Then Arizel raised his arm, voice calm: "Domain—Throne of Eternal Winter."
Frost exploded outward, sculpting elegant spires of ice that towered across the barrier. Above him, the spectral image of the Frost Monarch loomed, its blade reflecting blinding light.
Itekan rolled his neck, flame snaking up his arms. "Ahh! This again. Let's see how long it stand.."
He pressed his hand to the floor. Shadows burst outward. "Shadows hands: Shadow Domain"
The frost met darkness. The entire arena turned half white, half black—two realms bleeding into each other.
Itekan moved through shadows like echoes of himself, his speed tripling as his steps blurred. Arizel mirrored him through shards of ice, teleporting via reflected light. Their movements became a deadly rhythm—heat trailing cold, cold slicing through flame.
Every clash left shockwaves rippling across the barrier. Steam rose between them like mist from colliding worlds.
At the final collision, both vanished—then reappeared midair. Shadow daggers met Frost sword.
The explosion blinded the crowd, light devouring sound.
When the haze cleared, both stood at opposite ends of the crater, uniforms torn, breaths ragged. A faint crack echoed as Arizel's sword splintered, the tip breaking apart in glittering shards.
"Match—Four Stars Academy," Kime declared quietly.
Cheers erupted, echoing across the courtyard.
Arizel dropped to one knee, frustration flickering in his expression. Itekan approached slowly, offering a faint grin. "Impressive. Last time we fought I won way too easily. This time was a bit more challenging."
Arizel grimaced, brushing frost from his sleeve as he stood and made to leave."This is the second time you've won. It will never happen again."
He walked past without another word, frost footprints melting behind him.
Ronga exhaled from her perch, lightning sparking faintly. "You Four Stars kids are insane."
Korimer grinned. "You're just mad we're better than you'll."
"Ha! You wish. Arizel didn't even use half of his fully power in that fight."
"And you think Itekan did?"
Gendric crossed his arms, nodding once. "At least they've got spirit."
Meris Veyna sighed. "Spirit's one thing. Discipline is another. Let's hope the next generation learns both."
Kime chuckled beside her. "If they don't, we'll make them."
Kime turned back to the field, where smoke still curled from melted ice and scorched tiles. "Good," he murmured. "That's how legends start." With a wave of his hand the entire field was restored to its original splendor.
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Spiritual Energy (SE)
Spiritual Sea (SS)
Spiritual Signature (SST)