Temporal Dominion

Lucian's body was still tense as the remnants of battle faded from his mind. His breathing steadied, but his pulse remained heightened—not from exhaustion, but from realization.

He had done more than react to the construct's movements. He had dictated the flow of the fight.

His Chronokinesis wasn't just an ability to glimpse the future—it was an instinctive grasp of time's rhythm, allowing him to step ahead of an opponent's attack before they even completed it.

And for the first time, he had used it deliberately.

Kael studied him, arms crossed.

"You've taken the first step, Vale." His voice was measured, neither praise nor criticism. "But instinct alone won't carry you much further. Now, we refine your control."

Lucian straightened, absorbing the words carefully.

Kael's hand flicked to the side, and suddenly, the ground beneath Lucian shifted.

A new set of golden runes flared, different from before. The air around him grew dense, the space itself subtly distorted.

Lucian's eyes widened—this was a restriction field.

"For the next phase of your training," Kael continued, "your ability to manipulate time will be suppressed."

Lucian clenched his jaw.

He was being forced to fight without his ability.

Around him, the students watched with mixed expressions—some intrigued, others doubtful.

Lucian understood the lesson immediately. Power without discipline was meaningless.

Kael gestured to the side, and another construct emerged, this one heavier, bulkier. Unlike the previous opponents, it carried no artificial intelligence.

This was a pure endurance test.

The challenge was clear. Defeat the opponent without relying on foresight.

Lucian squared his stance.

The construct surged forward.

And for the first time since awakening his power—

He had to rely on his body, not time.

---

A Test of Fundamentals

The first strike came fast.

Lucian twisted to avoid it—but without his temporal sense, he was slower.

The attack grazed his side, a dull force reverberating through his ribs.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

No foresight. No enhanced perception. Only technique.

The construct pressed forward, delivering a series of relentless blows. Lucian barely managed to weave between them, his footwork clumsy compared to before.

Each movement felt sluggish, disconnected.

This was the gap.

Without his power, his body was unrefined. He had been relying too much on instinctive adaptation, rather than true combat training.

Kael knew it.

That's why he put him in this situation.

Lucian grit his teeth. Then I'll have to learn.

Another strike came—this time a downward smash.

Lucian didn't dodge. He met it.

Pivoting his stance, he raised his arms—deflecting the attack at an angle rather than absorbing it directly. The force skidded past him, barely avoiding impact.

For the first time since the fight began—he countered with proper technique.

Kael gave the slightest nod.

Lucian adjusted his breathing. Slow. Steady. Precise.

He focused on the battle without his power—reading the construct's movements naturally.

Block. Step. Redirect. Counter.

Each exchange felt sharper. The disjointed gaps in his movements were closing.

Then—he saw an opening.

The construct shifted its weight forward—just slightly, but enough.

Lucian acted immediately.

A low sweep—striking the unstable knee.

The construct staggered—and Lucian capitalized.

A second strike—precisely aimed at its balance point.

CRACK!

The construct collapsed.

Lucian exhaled heavily, sweat clinging to his skin.

Kael stepped forward, arms still crossed.

For the first time, his expression was unreadable.

"You adapted," he finally said. "That's a start."

Lucian straightened, wiping his brow.

A start.

But deep down, he understood—he had just taken the first true step in mastering his power.

Because now, he had something he lacked before.

A foundation.