The training ground was still buzzing from Braggen's victory, the scent of scorched earth and faint traces of Voidflare energy lingering in the air. Dust hung in the late afternoon light, painting everything in a hazy gold. A loose circle of spectators began to form again.

Ceyla stepped forward, the faint hum of her Storm Affinity curling around her like restless wind. Tiny arcs of electricity licked at her fingertips, the grass at her feet bending as if bowing to an invisible force.

"I've been wanting to fight you since the day you blocked my attack," she said, her voice low but cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

Kirell tilted her head, the light catching the jagged scar across her forehead. Her silver dagger spun idly in her hand, the edge gleaming with a predatory sharpness. Behind her, motes of pink-white petals began to swirl—the manifestation of her Bloom Affinity—filling the air with a deceptive softness.

"What a proudful girl," Kirell smirked, eyes narrowing. "You won't become a fine lady if you always talk like that."

Ceyla's grin widened, stormlight flickering across her face. "Good thing I never wanted to be one."

There was no warning Ceyla lunged first. Lightning snapped from her hands, exploding into the ground where Kirell had been a moment before. The older girl's movements were fluid, dagger cutting through the air in a silver blur as she slid sideways, letting her petals swirl forward in a sudden bloom.

The two forces met electric arcs crackling against a wall of flower petals that hardened into razor-sharp edges. The ground under their feet quaked as the shockwave kicked up dust, rippling outward into the crowd.

From the sidelines, Solen leaned casually against a wooden post, arms crossed. "Hah… this is going to be fun."

Khael, however, wasn't as amused, his eyes tracking every exchange. (She's still young… if Kirell gets serious—no, Ceyla's too stubborn to back down.)

Ceyla spun on her heel, unleashing a wide arc of lightning that carved a smoking line in the dirt. Kirell didn't retreat instead, she stepped into the attack, dagger catching the light as she sliced through the storm, her petals wrapping around the blade like an extension of her will.

"Too slow," Kirell murmured before striking, the edge of her dagger grazing Ceyla's cheek, drawing a thin line of red.

Ceyla's eyes lit up not with fear, but excitement. "Finally… you're taking me seriously."

The wind howled, petals danced like blades, and the crowd's whispers fell into silence. The fight had shifted now it was pure rhythm, storm and bloom weaving into a deadly pattern.

Every impact carried weight—electric surges lighting the petals from within, Kirell's dagger slicing through arcs of lightning as if cutting the sky itself. Dirt kicked up in spirals around them, the air charged and perfumed at once—a strange mix of ozone and floral sweetness.

By the time they broke apart again, both were breathing harder, eyes locked in a mutual dare neither seemed willing to abandon. Dust hung in the air, the arena floor littered with petal fragments from Kirell's blooms and scorch marks from Ceyla's lightning. The onlookers,

students, sparring partners, and even the recovering Braggen—watched in silence, as if afraid a single sound might break the tension.

Ceyla reached into her jacket pocket, fingers wrapping around the polished hilt of her dagger. Sparks danced along her fingertips, crawling eagerly to the blade's edge. The metal hummed under the charge, a faint crackle growing into a roar.

"I'm ending this right now!" she shouted, voice sharp as the storm gathering above. "Storm Echo Art: Lightning Strike!!!"

She lunged, the ground beneath her feet exploding in a burst of static as arcs of lightning carved jagged paths toward Kirell. The air itself seemed to bend away from the attack, a shimmering tunnel of heat and light forming in her wake.

Kirell's eyes narrowed, the scar on her forehead glowing faintly with Shinrei. "Tch… you reckless child." She pivoted, Bloom Affinity surging

thousands of razor-edged petals bursting outward in a spiral, meeting the lightning head-on.

The two forces collided with a deafening crack. Petals ignited mid-air, becoming burning embers that spiraled across the battlefield, while streaks of lightning ricocheted off the arena walls, making the crowd flinch.

"She's pushing her too far…" Khael thought, his fists clenched.

"No… she's testing her limits," Solen mused aloud, still smirking.

From the side, Juno tilted his head. "(…Are they trying to kill each other?)"

Ceyla pushed harder, her blade glowing white-hot, electricity screaming down its length. "Fall already!"

Kirell's petals swirled tighter, compressing into a barrier as she hissed, "Bloom Art: Thorn Veil."

When the lightning finally tore through, it shredded the veil, sending petals scattering like dying stars but Kirell had already moved, her silver dagger pressing against Ceyla's neck from behind.

"Too slow," Kirell whispered.

Ceyla's breath caught. Her storm affinity still crackled weakly around her fingertips, but the fight was already over. Her chest tightened, not from fear, but from the sharp, clean sting of being outplayed. So that's her speed… no, that's her mind.

Her lips twitched into a grin despite the loss. Next time… I'll catch you.

The crowd exhaled as one, the sound a mix of awe and disbelief. Everyone stayed quiet for a long moment

not because of fear, but because the fight had been so damn good, no one wanted to break the memory just yet.

From the edge of the field, Khael's eyes tracked every movement, replaying the final exchange in his mind.

(She had the momentum,) he thought, recalling the way Ceyla's storm had built into that perfect arc raw, fast, lethal. (But storms were loud. Predictable. Every flash, every crackle, it all drew the eye to where she wanted you to look. Kirell hadn't been chasing the storm at all. She'd been watching the gaps.)

She baited the strike, Khael realized, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. (Every feint Ceyla made, Kirell mapped her rhythm. The veil wasn't her shield, it was her smokescreen. When Ceyla's lightning ripped through it, she thought she was clearing the path for her kill. In truth, she'd just torn away her own cover.)

(And in that split-second of triumph, Kirell vanished from sight and reappeared exactly where Ceyla couldn't guard her blind spot.)

Khael let out a slow breath. (Speed like that's dangerous… but what's worse is someone who can make you hand them the opening yourself.)

To be continue