MTLNOVEL Chapter 30: Target
The day after the explosion in the Lightning Shrine, Ares was right back at it, sweating through another round of training while the walls still bore the charred imprint of his Fire Bolt technique.
But as he practiced his basic lightning strikes, something nagged at the back of his mind. Yesterday, after creating that incredible Fire Bolt, he'd felt completely drained. At the time, he'd brushed it off as normal exhaustion from hours of intense training. Everyone got tired after pushing themselves, right?
Now, as he attempted to recreate the technique, the truth hit him like a slap to the face.
He concentrated on his palm, summoning both fire and lightning energies. The familiar flame appeared, dancing on his skin, and he shaped his hand into a gun. He focused intensely, trying to merge the two elements together just like before. The Fire Bolt streaked across the shrine with the same explosive speed and power, leaving another scorch mark on the already damaged wall.
But the moment it left his hand, Ares stumbled backward, his vision blurring slightly. His legs felt like jelly, and his breathing became heavy and labored. It wasn't just tiredness, it was like someone had pulled the plug on his energy reserves.
"Damn," he muttered, leaning against the wall for support. "One shot. That's all I get."
The realization was both exciting and terrifying. He had created something powerful, maybe even revolutionary, but he could only use it once before his body gave out. In a real fight, timing would be everything.
– – –
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Cradle, far from the shrines and sparring halls, Roul stood before a door he'd hoped never to enter.
The private quarters of Vael de Eisenklinge were hidden behind the eastern wing of the academy's administration tower, a place whispered about by students, but rarely seen by anyone not specifically summoned. The air itself felt heavier here, thick with unspoken secrets and barely contained power.
Roul took a deep breath to steel himself and stepped inside.
The room was cool and dimly lit, with expensive tapestries covering the walls. It was scented faintly with something sweet, roses maybe, or poison disguised as perfume. The thought wasn't entirely a joke. Vael sat gracefully at a low table near the window, pouring himself a cup of dark tea. His eyes were closed in that ever-present, eerie smile that made people's skin crawl.
"Roul," Vael said smoothly, without bothering to look up. His voice was like silk over steel. "Come in. Sit. You don't seem like the type to keep important people waiting."
"I don't like being summoned," Roul replied bluntly, choosing to remain standing instead of accepting the offered seat.
Vael finally opened his eyes, those pitch-black eyes that seemed to swallow light and made your stomach twist into knots if you stared too long. It was like looking into empty wells.
"I heard your roommate has been making quite the waves," he said casually, sipping his tea with practiced elegance. "Ares Eisenklinge."
Roul said nothing, but his jaw clenched visibly. He knew where this conversation was headed, and he didn't like it one bit.
"I imagine it must be difficult," Vael continued, swirling his cup thoughtfully, "living beside someone who's clearly marked for greatness. Does it sting, watching him surpass expectations while you... remain predictable?"
"I'm not threatened by him," Roul said quietly, his voice steady despite the provocation. "But you should be very careful trying to manipulate him. He's not like the other students here."
Vael's smile widened, showing perfect white teeth that somehow looked predatory.
"Good. Then he's exactly the type I'm interested in."
Roul stepped forward, his posture becoming more aggressive. "What do you want with him?"
"Conversation. Observation. Possibly..." Vael paused, standing gracefully from his chair, his tone remaining light and conversational, "correction."
The word hung in the air like a threat.
"You'll arrange a meeting," Vael continued, brushing imaginary dust from his expensive robes. "Something casual, of course. I want to speak to him, alone."
Roul's expression darkened considerably. "He's busy. Training every spare second he can find."
"Then find one second he can spare," Vael said sweetly, his voice never losing that pleasant tone that made the threat even more chilling. "Or I'll come find it for him myself."
The silence between them buzzed with tension, like the air before a lightning strike. Then Vael sat again, dismissing the confrontation as if it had never happened.
"You may go."
Roul left without bowing, without showing any of the respect that Vael's position normally demanded. His thoughts were spinning as he walked through the corridors. He'd warned Ares about Vael in passing before, called him dangerous, even hinted that he was someone to avoid at all costs.
But now? Now the snake was slithering closer to his friend, and Roul wasn't sure how to stop it.
---
Three days passed in a blur of intense preparation.
And with them came more drills, more bruises, and more anticipation that you could practically taste in the air.
Jareth's sword lessons grew harsher and faster, pushing every student to their absolute limits. Sinclair worked Maelia until her arms trembled too much to properly nock an arrow. The air in the Cradle was thick with nervous tension now, every trainee buzzing with excitement and barely contained anxiety.
Students walked the halls with a different energy, their conversations quieter but more intense. Everyone knew what was coming.
Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, the sun rose on the day they'd all been preparing for.
The Class Captain Selection Match.
The central martial ring, the largest and most impressive combat arena in the entire Cradle, had been cleared and carefully prepared for the event. Rings of polished stone benches curved around the perimeter like layers of an amphitheater, and already, trainees from other years had begun to gather in excited clusters. Word of Ares' unexpected elemental mastery had spread like wildfire through the academy. Ares' brothers and even the older, more experienced students were curious to see if the so-called anomaly could actually hold his own in real combat.
The arena's floor had been meticulously swept clean and enchanted with protective runes for safety. The glowing symbols along the edges would prevent lethal injuries and permanent damage, but everything else? Completely fair game. Bruises, cuts, burns, and humiliation were all perfectly acceptable.
Ares stood just outside the ring, his hand gripping the leather-wrapped hilt of his training sword. He had a lot he could use for this match, his sword training had started to flourish and he was now getting a hang of his elements. But he couldn't stop thinking about his limitation, one Fire Bolt, and then he'd be running on fumes.
Beside him, Lysandra was stretching gracefully, her slender rapier gleaming at her side like a silver snake. Sylas sat cross-legged on the ground with his wooden practice spear laid across his lap, eyes closed and breathing deeply, projecting an aura of complete calm. Maelia was methodically testing her bowstring, her arrows laid out neatly beside her like silent promises of pain.
The other contestants looked confident, prepared, dangerous.
This wasn't training anymore. This wasn't practice with wooden swords and padded armor.
This was the real thing.
And somewhere far above them all, hidden in one of the upper-tier balconies reserved for important academy officials, Vael de Eisenklinge watched the arena through half-veiled eyes... smiling that same unsettling smile.
He had found his target.
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A/N – Was it fire or mid? Don't just vanish—powerstone, comment, review. Let me feel your presence.