The Goblin King's roar shook the forest, scattering birds into the night sky. Its club came down like a falling boulder, shattering earth and stone. Nova blurred aside, Concealment wrapping him in shadow as the shockwave tore through the clearing.
He reappeared at the monster's flank, his blade carving across its chest. Sparks of crimson light flared, the cut deep and clean—yet the wound sealed instantly, black smoke coiling like veins through the creature's body.
Nova clicked his tongue. "Regeneration. Figures."
The Goblin King's purple eyes glowed with feral hatred, its aura dark and twisted. Someone had tampered with it—blood magic, strong enough to turn a beast into something more.
Nova raised a hand. Total Creation answered. Lightning surged, coalescing into a spear of crackling power. He hurled it, the weapon exploding against the beast's chest in a thunderous blast. Flames consumed the nest, smoke rising into the sky.
When the dust cleared, the Goblin King still stood, its breath ragged but unbroken.
"Good," Nova muttered beneath his mask, crimson eyes burning brighter. "Let's see how much you can take."
⸻
Far away, in the marble arena of Silvercrest Academy, Sorra Grey faced her first true test. Students crowded the stands, murmuring with curiosity. Her opponent—a second-year swordsman with a sneer—twirled his blade confidently.
"Don't hold back just because you're new," he mocked. "I'd hate to embarrass you too badly."
Sorra tightened her grip on her practice sword, her crimson eyes locked on his every move. Fear pricked at her chest, but it was swallowed quickly by determination. If Nova can face death every day, I can face this.
The duel began.
Her opponent lunged, blade flashing. Sorra's body moved on instinct—Wind Boost surged through her veins, her speed doubling as she sidestepped the strike. In the same motion, her palm ignited with crimson fire.
"Inferno Cage!"
Flames erupted around the swordsman, spinning into a prison of fire. He cursed, shielding his face as the heat pressed in. The crowd gasped, voices rising in awe.
But Sorra wasn't finished. Her eyes glowed faintly as she called on her third gift.
"Blood Spear."
Her arm cut through the air, and crimson energy condensed into a spear sharp enough to pierce steel. She hurled it straight through the flame cage—stopping only an inch from her opponent's throat before dissolving into sparks.
Silence followed. Then the instructor declared, "Winner—Sorra Grey!"
The arena erupted with cheers. Sorra lowered her hand, her chest heaving. For the first time since her family's fall, she felt something other than fear or grief. She felt pride.
Yet deep inside, the bond she shared with her brother pulsed again, sharp and hot.
⸻
In the forest, Nova ducked beneath the Goblin King's strike. Its club slammed down, nearly snapping the trees in two.
Nova's voice was cold. "Enough games."
Total Destruction pulsed through his blade. One swing. The forest itself seemed to shudder as his weapon carved through the monster, unmaking flesh, bone, and curse alike. The Goblin King staggered, let out a strangled roar, and collapsed into nothing but ash and shadow.
Nova stood over the remains, his blade dissolving back into black smoke. His mask hid the small smirk tugging at his lips.
"…Too easy."
But as he turned, he froze.
At the edge of the clearing, a cloaked figure watched him. The same purple sigils burned across the stranger's hands, faint and pulsing. Their eyes gleamed from the hood, sharp and knowing.
"So," the figure drawled, voice smooth as silk. "The last of House Grey walks Terra after all."
Nova's eyes narrowed, his hand tightening on his hilt. "…You know me."
The figure's smile was audible even in the shadows. "Oh, I know more than you think."
And then, just as quickly, the stranger vanished into the night, leaving only the stench of blood magic behind.
⸻
At Silvercrest, Sorra sat quietly in her dormitory after the duel, staring at her hands. Her victory had earned her respect, admiration, even praise from the instructors.
But her mind was far away. She could feel it again—the faint pull, like a thread between her and her brother, tugging with unease.
"Nova…" she whispered, her eyes dim in the candlelight. "What have you gotten yourself into?"
Sorra's Path to the Academy
The two years spent within House Lunar's walls had been a strange kind of peace for Sorra. For the first time since the night their home burned, she had a bed that wasn't the forest floor, meals that weren't scavenged scraps, and shelves upon shelves of books she could lose herself in.
While Nova trained in secret, slipping away to test the limits of his powers, Sorra buried herself in study. The Lunar library was ancient, filled with tomes on magic, history, and combat theory. Every night she devoured knowledge, desperate to shape her gifts into something more than wild instincts.
Yet even as she trained, she felt the weight of expectation pressing in. Nova was the fighter, the protector—he had always carried their survival on his shoulders. Sorra hated that she had to be shielded, hated feeling like a burden. If I can master my gifts, she told herself, I can stand beside him. Not behind him.
It was Lord Lunar himself who noticed her determination.
One evening, after watching her practice in the courtyard until her legs nearly gave out, he spoke.
"You burn yourself to ash, child. Do you know why?"
Sorra tightened her fists, sweat dripping down her brow. "…Because I'm weak."
His lips curved, not unkindly. "No. Because you fear weakness. That is different."
A week later, an invitation arrived: a letter sealed with the crest of Silvercrest Academy, the most prestigious school of magic and combat in Terra. The Academy trained heirs of noble bloodlines, gifted adventurers, and future heroes. To be invited was an honor few could claim.
Nova had been against it at first. "You don't need them," he argued, his voice sharper than usual. "I can teach you more than any noble-run academy."
But Sorra shook her head. "You're already walking a dangerous path, Nova. You can't always protect me. I need to grow stronger on my own."
And though his eyes burned with protest, Nova said no more. When the day came, he walked her to the gates of Silvercrest himself.
That was the last time she saw him.
⸻
Life at Silvercrest was nothing like the quiet halls of House Lunar. Students eyed her with suspicion, whispers trailing after her wherever she went. She was too skilled for a commoner, too sharp for a nobody, and yet she bore no noble crest. Rumors bloomed—some said she was a bastard child of Lunar blood, others that she was hiding her true lineage.
Sorra ignored them. She trained harder than anyone, pushing her gifts further each day. Wind Boost became second nature, her body moving faster than even seasoned duelists. Inferno Cage, once wild and unstable, grew tighter, hotter, sharper. And Blood Spear—her most dangerous power—she practiced in secret, wary of drawing too much attention.
Then came the announcement.
"First-years," the instructor declared one morning, his voice echoing across the training yard, "your initial trials begin tomorrow. You will duel to prove your worth. Victory or defeat will determine your standing in this Academy."
The whispers grew louder. Sorra felt the eyes of her peers on her, heavy with doubt, curiosity, and mockery.
That night, as she lay awake, she touched the small pendant hidden beneath her shirt—a shard of steel from their father's forge, the only piece of House Grey she still carried. She closed her eyes and whispered:
"Nova… I'll prove it. To them. To you. To myself."
And when the sun rose the next day, Sorra Grey stepped into the arena.