CHAPTER 187: THE WEEK-LONG BREAK [6]

The evening sun dipped toward the horizon. Orange and deep crimson bled across the sky.

Long shadows stretched across the courtyard.

BOOM!

Wooden training dummies erupted with an explosion. Splinters flew in every direction.

Some pieces still smoldered. Small flames licked at the edges.

Black scorch marks scarred the ground in a wide radius.

"Haa!"

A boy exhaled heavily. The sound raw. Exhausted.

His hand lowered slowly. Fingers still trembling slightly from the exertion.

The last flicker of amber light died along his palm.

Smoke curled upward from his fingertips.

He stood there. Chest heaving. Each breath came deep and labored.

Blue eyes stared at the destruction before him.

Clear and bright even in the fading light.

His golden-brown hair was plastered to his forehead. Damp with sweat. A few strands stuck to his temples.

The white shirt clung to his frame. Soaked completely.

Sweat dripped down his jaw. Traced a path down his neck.

His breathing gradually steadied. Slower. More controlled.

But his hands still shook. Just slightly.

Then—

Clap! Clap! Clap!

The sound of slow applause cut through the settling quiet.

Caleb straightened immediately. His spine went rigid.

He turned his head back and narrowed his blue eyes as a young man approached.

Wearing dark blue doublet with silver threading along the collar and cuffs. The fabric caught the dying light, quality material that probably cost more than a commoner earned in months. His trousers were equally fine. Perfectly tailored.

The young man’s dark hair was swept back. Neat. Not a strand out of place despite the outdoor setting.

And a wide grin plastered across his face like he’d just witnessed the most amusing thing in the world.

He walked with casual confidence. Each step measured and unhurried.

Like he owned the place.

Tch.

Caleb clicked his tongue and turned his head away. Fixed his gaze back on the destroyed training dummies instead.

"That was quite a good display. You really are—"

"What do you want, Lord Garret." Caleb cut him off, his voice was flat and cold.

He extended his hand again. Pointed toward another training dummy across the yard.

Garret stopped mid-step. His smile widened.

"I was merely complimenting you, brother-in-law."

The title rolled off his tongue. Smooth. Deliberate.

"Don’t call me that." Caleb hissed, his jaws clenched.

Orange flames flickered to life in his palm.

Heat radiated outward. The air around his hand shimmered.

"But why?" Garret tilted his head in mock confusion.

He took another step closer. Casual. Unbothered by the display of fire mere feet away.

"Our parents have already agreed to the arrangement." His tone stayed light. Conversational. "The betrothal contracts are being finalized as we speak."

Caleb’s fingers curled. The flames intensified.

"In fact..." Garret’s smile took on a different quality. Sharper. "Your dear sister Livia seems quite eager for the union herself."

The flames wavered. Just slightly.

"Shut up."

"She told me about the dress she’s already picked out." Garret continued as if he hadn’t heard. "She even asked my opinion on the design. Can you imagine? Already thinking about the wedding."

Caleb’s shoulders tensed. Every muscle coiled tight.

"I said shut up."

"And just last week..." Garret’s voice dropped lower. More intimate. "She mentioned how much she’s looking forward to the wedding night. How she’s been preparing herself for—"

WHOOSH!

The flames erupted. Engulfed Caleb’s entire arm up to the elbow.

Orange light blazed across the training yard. Cast dancing shadows everywhere.

His blue eyes burned with something beyond just reflected firelight.

"One more word." His voice came out rough. Barely controlled. "One more fucking word about my sister."

"She’s in the manor, right?"

Garret’s smile turned predatory now. His eyes gleamed with malicious amusement.

"Can you guide me to her room? See, I’m quite the gentleman." He spread his hands in mock sincerity.

"I wouldn’t want to just barge in unannounced. What if I stumbled into her chambers while she was just... changing to meet me? And I—"

WHOOSH!

A fireball erupted from Caleb’s palm.

It hurled through the air.

Garret’s head snapped to the side. The fireball screamed past his face—close enough that the heat singed the air beside his cheek.

CRACK!

It exploded against the wall behind him. Scattered embers everywhere.

But Caleb was already moving.

His boots pounded against the dirt. Closing the distance in two explosive strides.

His fist came up. Pulled back. Burning with residual flame.

But Garret’s hand shot out and he caught Caleb’s wrist mid-swing. His other hand grabbed Caleb’s collar.

Their faces were inches apart now.

"You’re a million years away from being even at my level." Garret’s voice came out smooth.

But then—

Caleb grabbed Garret’s wrist.

His grip locked tight.

And—

SIZZLE!

Flames erupted along the contact point. Crawled across Garret’s skin like living things.

"Agh!"

Garret’s composure shattered. His face twisted.

He shoved Caleb hard, to push him away with desperate force.

Crash!

Caleb stumbled backward, back slammed into the remains of a wooden training dummy. The charred wood cracked under the impact. He hit the ground. Hard.

Dust and ash puffed up around him.

Garret clutched his hand to his chest. His expensive sleeve had burned away at the wrist. Underneath, red burns marked his skin. His pristine composure was gone. Replaced by pure fury.

His eyes locked onto Caleb.

Blazed with hatred.

"You’ll pay for that."

The words came out as a hiss.

His good hand moved toward his belt. Fingers brushed the hilt of his blade. Just as he started to pull—

"Young master."

A maid appeared from the side. Her footsteps quick across the yard.

She stopped at a respectful distance. Bowed deeply.

"Lord Steelwind has summoned you."

Her voice carried urgency beneath the formal tone.

Garret’s hand froze. His jaw clenched.

For a moment, he didn’t move. Just stood there, fingers still wrapped around the blade’s hilt.

Then his hand pulled back. Slowly. Reluctantly.

He turned his head toward Caleb.

Caleb remained on the ground. Sitting among the broken wood and ash. His blue eyes locked onto Garret’s.

Unflinching. Unafraid.

The stare held. Neither backing down.

Tch.

Garret clicked his tongue.

"If Father hadn’t summoned me now..." His voice dropped. "I might have shown you your place. Again."

He reached into his coat with his good hand. Pulled out a small glass vial.

A lower grade healing potion. He uncorked it with his teeth. Spit the cork aside.

Chugged the entire contents in three quick gulps.

His burned hand began to knit.

He threw the empty vial. It hit the dirt near Caleb.

Then turned and he walked toward the manor.

The maid remained standing at a respectful distance.

After a moment she moved forward and extended her hand down toward Caleb.

"Young master."

But Caleb didn’t look at her.

His eyes stayed fixed on the manor entrance. Where Garret had vanished.

His jaw worked. Teeth grinding together.

"I’ll make you regret living."

The words came out low. Barely more than a breath.

He pushed himself up. Ignored the offered hand completely.

Dusted off his clothes.

Then he turned.

And walked toward the opposite exit. Away from the manor.

The maid watched him go. Her hand still extended. Slowly lowering.

She stood alone in the ruined yard as the sun finally dipped below the horizon.

And darkness began to creep in.

The last embers of burned wood flickered. Then died.