The battlefield had fallen strangely silent.
Not peaceful.
Silent in the way a forest becomes silent before a storm.
Maris stood at the center of the ruined training field.
Black wind spiraled around his body.
His eyes burned with unwavering determination.
Above him, Ryu hovered.
The Black Wind Dragon was smaller than before, but its presence had become far more oppressive.
Its shadow stretched across the ground, while its wings slowly moved through the air like enormous blades.
Maris clenched his fists.
He could feel his heartbeat.
Thump.
His mother’s memory.
Thump.
His father’s legacy.
Thump.
His sister, Guris.
Thump.
Sophria.
Thump.
Melio.
Every memory became another current inside the storm.
Maris slowly exhaled.
Then he brought his hands together.
Wind began gathering between his palms.
At first, it was nothing more than a small cyan sphere.
Then— WHOOM!
The sphere expanded.
Cyan currents began spiraling around its center, rotating faster and faster until the air itself seemed to bend toward it.
Dust rose from the ground.
Small stones lifted into the air.
Even the surrounding flames were pulled toward the vortex.
The sound resembled a distant tornado.
Pinezoku stared.
“Wait…” He took a step backward.
“That’s wind?” His eyes widened.
“I thought wind was the weakest element!” Nobody answered him.
Because nobody was laughing.
Foshi adjusted his glasses.
For perhaps the first time during the battle, genuine astonishment crossed his face.
“No…” He stared at the cyan orb.
“That isn’t ordinary wind.” His voice became quieter.
“That’s the true power of Wind.” The orb accelerated.
Foshi’s eyes narrowed.
“Level 3 Wind…” He paused.
“…Cyclone.” The students stared.
Foshi continued.
“Level 3 is the highest known stage of elemental mastery.
Every Level 3 ability is extraordinary.” His gaze shifted toward Maris.
“But Cyclone…” A faint smile appeared on his face.
“…is something else.” He looked toward the sky.
For a brief moment, the battlefield seemed to disappear.
Foshi remembered someone from years ago.
A woman with cold eyes.
A woman whose presence could make entire battlefields go silent.
Manglet Fruing.
Foshi’s expression softened with nostalgia.
“You’re really his successor.” He looked at Maris.
“There is no doubt anymore.” Then he quietly whispered, “Are you watching, Manglet Fruing?” Maris didn’t hear him.
He couldn’t.
His entire concentration was focused on the storm between his hands.
Across the battlefield, Melio was struggling to remain upright.
His breathing was heavy.
His flames flickered around his body.
Yet his eyes remained sharp.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
“So…” He looked at Maris.
“You finally reached Level 3.” Maris said nothing.
Melio wiped the corner of his mouth.
“You’re not weak anymore.” His smile widened.
“Now you’re actually worth defeating.” Pinezoku suddenly pulled a camera from his pocket.
“THIS IS HISTORY!” He raised the camera.
“I have to capture this!” Sophria’s eyes widened.
“Pinezoku!” He ignored her.
“Level 3 Wind versus Level 3 Fire!
Two students pushing beyond their limits!
This is going straight into my—” Sophria stomped her foot.
“Have you lost your mind?!” Pinezoku froze.
“What?” “You’re standing in the middle of a battlefield!” Pinezoku looked around.
There were shattered trees.
Cracked ground.
Burning patches of earth.
A massive black dragon overhead.
He slowly nodded.
“Fair point.” Then he raised the camera again.
“But I’m still getting the picture.” Melio glanced toward him.
He sighed.
“Idiot.” He raised one hand.
A concentrated sphere of fire formed instantly.
Pinezoku’s eyes widened.
“Wait.” Melio threw it.
“HEY—!” BOOOOOOM!
Pinezoku disappeared behind a wall of smoke.
A few seconds later, his voice echoed from the wreckage.
“Ouch…” Sophria covered her face.
Melio looked away.
“Problem solved.” Pinezoku slowly emerged, rubbing his head.
“Okay…” He looked at Melio.
“Maybe Level 2 saved me there.” He glanced at his camera.
“It survived too.” Sophria stared at him.
“You care about the camera more than yourself?” Pinezoku thought for a moment.
“…Yes.” Sophria’s expression became completely blank.
“Unbelievable.” Meanwhile, Melio turned back toward Maris.
His expression became serious again.
“Enough distractions.” His flames intensified.
“Are you really planning to fight me using only Wind?” Maris looked at him.
A faint smirk appeared.
“The opposite.” The cyan orb between his hands rotated faster.
“I have a plan.” Melio raised an eyebrow.
“A plan?” Maris closed his eyes.
He took a slow breath.
The battlefield faded from his mind.
His mother.
His father.
His sister.
Sophria.
Melio.
Every memory passed through his thoughts.
He remembered the promise he had made.
He remembered every battle.
Every failure.
Every moment that had brought him here.
The cyclone between his hands began responding.
Faster.
Denser.
Stronger.
The cyan orb transformed into a miniature storm.
Black wind began intertwining with it.
Cyan and black.
Light and darkness.
Two different forms of the same element.
Pinezoku peeked cautiously from behind a tree.
His eyes sparkled.
“I can’t miss this…” He slowly raised his camera.
“This is going to be insane.” Maris opened his eyes.
His gaze locked onto Melio.
“Ryu.” The Black Wind Dragon spread its wings.
“Show them.” ROOOOOAAAAAR!
The dragon descended.
At the same moment, the cyclone in Maris’s hands exploded outward.
The entire battlefield became a storm.
Dust rose into the sky.
Trees bent violently.
Loose stones were lifted from the ground.
The black aura surrounding Maris merged with the cyan cyclone.
The result looked almost alive.
Melio’s eyes narrowed.
“So that’s your plan.” He raised both hands.
Fire gathered between his palms.
The flames compressed into a brilliant sphere.
The temperature around him surged.
The air began shimmering.
Melio grinned.
“Then let’s see which one is stronger.” He thrust his hands forward.
“FIRE!” WHOOOOOOM!
A gigantic fireball launched across the battlefield.
Maris moved his hand.
“Ryu!” The dragon roared.
The cyclone surged forward.
Cyan wind and blazing fire collided in mid-air.
For one second— Nothing happened.
Then— KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
The explosion swallowed the battlefield.
A shockwave tore across the training field.
Students were thrown backward.
Trees snapped and collapsed.
Dust erupted into the air.
Pinezoku’s camera flew from his hands.
“MY CAMERA!” Sophria grabbed onto a tree to steady herself.
“Forget the camera!” “But it’s expensive!” The ground trembled beneath them.
The collision continued.
Fire tried to consume the cyclone.
The cyclone twisted around the fire.
Black wind spiraled through the flames.
Cyan currents punched through the inferno.
Neither side gave way.
Maris gritted his teeth.
His arms trembled under the pressure.
“I…” The cyclone grew stronger.
“…WILL NOT LOSE!” His voice echoed across the battlefield.
“Not here!” The wind exploded outward.
“Not now!” Melio’s eyes widened.
His adrenaline surged.
His Level 3 Fire responded instinctively.
The molten aura around his body intensified.
“You think I’m going to let you win?!” His flames roared.
“I’ve been waiting for this fight too!” He pushed forward.
Fire surged against wind.
The battlefield shook again.
Foshi watched from a distance.
His eyes were wide.
“This…” His voice barely escaped his lips.
“This isn’t simply elemental power anymore.” The collision illuminated the battlefield.
“These two are forcing their abilities beyond what their bodies should comfortably sustain.” The smoke thickened.
Then slowly— It began clearing.
A silhouette appeared.
Maris.
He stood firmly.
Black wind coiled around his body like enormous serpents.
Ryu circled above him.
Its eyes glowed through the smoke.
Across from him— Melio.
His molten aura still burned.
Flames moved around his body like a living cloak.
He looked exhausted.
But he was standing.
Their eyes met.
Neither smiled.
Neither spoke.
The battlefield had become almost unrecognizable.
Broken trees.
Cracked ground.
Smoke drifting through the air.
Black wind circling one warrior.
Molten fire surrounding the other.
Foshi slowly lowered his glasses.
“This…” He whispered, “…is true mastery.” Pinezoku crawled out from behind the tree.
His hair was covered in dust.
He looked at the battlefield.
His eyes widened.
“Okay…” He picked up his camera.
“…I definitely missed the picture.” Sophria sighed.
“Of course you did.” Melio raised his fists.
Maris lowered his stance.
Ryu roared above them.
The fire around Melio answered.
The wind around Maris screamed.
Two powers.
Two Level 3 abilities.
Two rivals.
One final battle.
And somewhere between the black cyclone and the molten flames— Both Maris and Melio understood the same thing.
The next attack wouldn’t simply hurt.
It would decide who could remain standing.
The stage was set.
The storm was coming.
And this time— There would be no holding back.