Meeting

Inside the opulent chambers, tension mounts, thick enough that one could cut it with a knife. Liam's calm exterior betrays the underlying threat in his voice. "The Council has been under your care for a couple of years already," he says, tapping his wine glass, drawing attention to the liquid inside. He takes a leisurely sip, relishing its taste and the moment, before adding, "Yet despite that, its image, its influence, only keep declining. You're not suited to be the council president."

Raelle's poise never falters, her smile stays in place, but there's a subtle firmness in her eyes. "Things have been difficult dealing with some people," she says measuredly. "However, I urge you to remain respectful. The position of student council president is not a title to be given away. It's deeply rooted in tradition. I'm sure you're well aware."

She leans forward slightly, her gaze steady. "Since my tenure began, student complaints have dwindled, conflicts have lessened, and overall satisfaction among both professors and students has surged."

But Liam, unabashed, continues his veiled threats. "Indeed, and it could all vanish," he snaps his fingers, emphasizing his point, "just like that. You're on the verge of losing the council to Kuza. Hand it over to me, and I'll prevent that from happening. I might even be generous enough to offer you the position of vice president."

From his seat, Elith heaves a silent sigh. Even if she agreed, it's not like it's a position she can just hand over. But Liam... always so arrogant and presumptuous.

Raelle opens her mouth to retort, but Liam cuts her off. "Once you graduate, I can assure you a seat in the royal court. The prestige, influence, wealth—it'll all be yours. The current state of the council is pitiable. No one wants to join. I don't blame them. One misstep and it could crumble." His voice drips with menace.

Raelle's soft, amiable smile gradually fades, replaced by a cold, unwavering gaze. Her transformation, though subtle, radiates power. Elith thinks, I should probably step in before things get out of hand, but honestly? I'm curious to see this play out.

In a smooth, fluid motion, Raelle takes a sip from her wine glass, then holds it out, the light catching the crystal facets. She taps it gently, and an intricate network of cracks instantly spiderweb across the surface. Not a single drop leaks, a testament to her control. Her voice, once warm, is now frigid and direct. "Prince... No, just Liam. It seems you didn't come here to join the council. Threatening a student? Remember, your princely status means nothing within these walls."

She pulls out a neatly organized folder from the table beside her. "Here are the academy rules you've blatantly disregarded. Rule 37B - the prohibition of alcohol on school grounds. Rule 55A - making unsanctioned offers of employment. Rule 89D - intimidation and threats towards another student. Rule 73B - use of magic on unauthorized locations. Rule 15C - Blackmailing students into joining a faction."

Raelle continues, "Each of these infractions carries its own penalties, including suspension or even expulsion. Think about that the next time you decide to visit."

Liam, seemingly nonplussed by Raelle's detailed listing of his violations, raises a hand to his face, muffling a chuckle. "Hmhmhmhaha..." The laugh is low, chilling in its insincerity. His face remains a mask of calm condescension, utterly unrepentant.

"Raelle," he begins, his tone dripping with a feigned sympathy that makes Elith's fists clench involuntarily, "this is not an option." He takes another sip of the wine, savoring it, letting the silence stretch uncomfortably before adding, "The council will crumble under your leadership. Your resources are dwindling, as is your popularity. Your influence has diminished."

With an air of finality, he stands, the leather of his boots making a soft, menacing sound against the polished floor. He strides confidently towards the door, pausing just a moment before exiting. With a final glance back, he declares, "Whether it's you or Kuza at the helm, it's inconsequential. In the end, I will assume control." And with that, he exits, leaving an icy chill in his wake.

The room seems to grow even more still in Liam's absence. The weight of his words hangs heavily, a dark cloud threatening to suffocate the warmth of the chamber.

Elith exhales, breaking the silence. His thoughts, unspoken but palpable, scream, That insufferable, arrogant...! Yet, he reins in his emotions, choosing instead to focus on the present. He turns to Raelle, his expression one of concern and support. "That was..."

But Raelle's demeanor remains unfazed. Her face, a picture of calm determination, reflects none of the turmoil Liam intended to instigate. Her thoughts, clear and resolute, echo, His words, they're like the wind — transient and without substance. "Elith," she begins, her voice steady, "V mentioned Aira will likely visit as well, right? Hmmm... It looks like we're caught in their fight. Get Sera and her friend Nyssa to come over, I'll deal with Aira myself."

★  ★  ★  ★  ★

Amidst the forest canopy, Ilka floats effortlessly, her ethereal form dappled with fleeting beams of sunlight filtering through the trees. She yawns, the lengthening fight seemingly tedious to her. She's witnessed many skirmishes, but there's something about this particular one that keeps her attention.

On the ground below, the mysterious man takes a wary step back, his cerulean eyes evaluating Kael's unpredictable movements. "What the hell's wrong with this guy? Is he out of his mind?" he mutters, his gaze darting around the environment.

Without hesitation, he summons his mana, and the chains in his hand glow eerily. In a swift, fluid movement, he lashes out, aiming directly for Kael. But, driven purely by instincts, Kael unpredictably dodges it. The stranger smirks, manipulating the chain with his mana, it bends and strikes from behind, hitting Kael squarely in the back. The force propels him forward, straight towards his opponent.

"Too easy," the stranger thinks, reeling in his chain.

Yet Kael, still airborne, twists his body with the dexterity of a martial artist, his leg aimed for a powerful kick. The chain swiftly wraps around Kael's extended limb, but Kael's agony strikes again. A guttural scream of, "AAAAARGHHH!" rips from his throat as he violently pulls against the chain's constraints. The pressure proves too much — the chain breaks, and the sheer force of the movement fractures two of Kael's bones.

"What a damn psycho! Who even is this guy?" the stranger exclaims, shock evident in his voice. He flicks his wrist, the chain, infused with his magic, bursts into flames.

Ilka's voice, echoing from above, drips with amusement. "Ooh, fancy tricks! But be warned, Kael's about to crank up the insanity."

Unpredictably, Kael lunges again, his martial arts training evident in every movement, even if they're guided solely by instinct. His aura and mana, unstable and wild, magnify his already impressive speed and strength. Each strike, parry, and dodge seem enhanced, lending him an otherworldly agility.

The stranger, realizing the increasing danger, channels his magic into the chains again, this time coating them in a thick layer of ice. He swings them around, creating a whirlwind of frigid air, aimed at slowing Kael down. "If flames don't work, let's see how you handle a bit of cold," he thinks, preparing to deliver a powerful ice-enhanced blow.

Kael, his instincts razor-sharp, senses the impending threat. He sidesteps, barely avoiding the frozen chains that crash into the ground, creating a mini glacier.

"Damn it! He's adapting," the stranger muses, frustration evident. He summons his own mana, casting bolts of pure energy towards Kael. Alongside this, he launches a series of rapid chain strikes, mixing in his martial arts to keep Kael off balance.

The forest becomes a battleground of clashing powers. Trees splinter and shatter, animals flee, and the very ground trembles under the onslaught. Flashes of fire, shards of ice, and bursts of energy light up the darkened woods like a deadly dance of destruction.

Amidst the debris of shattered wood and upturned earth, the stranger stands, brushing the dust off his worn leather armor. Sweat glistens on his forehead, streaking down the sides of his face. The rapid rise and fall of his chest betray the toll the battle is taking on him. "That should have done it," he pants, straining to see through the thick cloud of dust in front of him.

But almost immediately, his instincts scream a warning. Mana pulses around him, forming a hasty protective shield. It's barely in place when a figure, moving faster than any human should, bursts out of the settling dust. Kael, driven by sheer will and pain, lunges straight for the stranger. The force behind his punch is monstrous, shattering the mana shield like fragile glass and sending the stranger hurtling through the forest. The impact of his body against several trees echoes eerily in the once-peaceful woods.

Kael's momentum halts abruptly, and he crumples to the ground, his entire body convulsing. Another scream, raw and filled with pain, reverberates, "AAAAARGHHH!" Blood trickles from his mouth, mixing with the dirt below. His aura and mana, already erratic, are dwindling fast, flickering like the last embers of a dying fire.

The stranger, meanwhile, groggily pushes himself up, his vision blurred and head pounding. "What in the gods' name was that?" He grumbles, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "I came here for some damn herbs, not to be pummeled by some lunatic." He takes a moment to regain his composure, cracking his neck and flexing his aching limbs. Surveying the battered figure of Kael, a grudging respect forms in his eyes. "Relying solely on instincts... Whoever taught him either knew nothing or everything. But then again, who'd let their pupil end up like this?"

With a newfound determination, the stranger summons his chains once again, this time weaving a combination of both fire and ice. The chains glow hot and cold in tandem, steaming in the damp forest air. With a swiftness betraying his earlier fatigue, he closes the distance between him and Kael.

But Kael, even in his weakened state, isn't defenseless. Guided by his rigorous training and his survival instincts, he parries the fiery and icy strikes of the chains with his arms, legs, and even his head. Each movement, while lacking the earlier finesse, is filled with raw desperation.

The stranger, seeing an opportunity, swings his chain in an arc, aiming for Kael's legs. But Kael, ever the martial artist, jumps, narrowly avoiding the frozen ground where the chain lands. In mid-air, he channels what's left of his aura and mana into a powerful downwards kick. The stranger, caught off guard, barely manages to defend using his chain, but the sheer force pushes him back several meters.

Landing on the ground, both warriors face each other, breathing heavily, their silhouettes framed by the dimming forest light. The stranger's eyes, still sharp, analyzing Kael, noting the drained aura and mana. "This could be my chance," he thinks.

The stranger tightens his grip on the chains, infusing them with the last remnants of his elemental magic, ready to end the battle. But before he can make his move, Kael, with a sudden surge of ferocity, lunges forward, his eyes wild and frenzied. In one fluid motion, he grabs the stranger's throat, squeezing with all his might. The stranger struggles, gasping for breath, his vision starting to blur.

But just as Kael is about to deliver the finishing blow, an excruciating pain pierces his skull, more intense than before. He releases the stranger, clutching his head and screaming, "AAAAARGHHH!" The gut-wrenching scream echoes throughout the forest, followed by a chilling silence. With one final gasp of pain, Kael collapses to the ground, unconscious.

Coughing and trying to catch his breath, the stranger pushes himself up, his eyes darting to the fallen warrior beside him. There's a moment of conflicted emotions. "Stupid, crazy bastard," he mutters under his breath, but there's a hint of admiration in his voice. With a frustrated sigh, he leans down and hoists Kael onto his shoulder, muttering curses about his own soft-heartedness.

"Why am I even bothering?" he grumbles, beginning his journey out of the forest, the weight of the unconscious fighter heavy on his shoulder.

High above them, Ilka lounges atop Kael, yawning gracefully, her ethereal form shimmering in the filtered sunlight. She chuckles to herself, whispering to the unconscious warrior, "Looks like you've found yourself a babysitter, Kael." Stretching languidly, she relaxes.