The week passed faster than Christian expected.
His power grew quietly, feeding on effort and pain. He trained in secret every night—punches, spirit flow, meditation—and by Friday, the haze in his veins had turned into fire.
Not flashy. Not visible to most.
But real.
Verdant Edge's Weekly Duel Matches were held in the school courtyard. Open field. Dozens of students gathered around to watch. It was half sport, half tradition—a way to rank up or call someone out.
Christian had no intention of fighting.
Until Kael challenged him.
"I want to shut this act down before it starts," Kael said loudly, standing at the center of the field. "Let's see what a 'Null Core' can really do."
Christian didn't answer right away.
Then Kien appeared in the crowd.
She didn't speak. Just gave him a look.
Not pity. Not fear.
Trust.
He stepped into the ring.
The Match
The instructor raised a hand. "Duel begins. Spirit techniques allowed. Stop when one yields."
Kael didn't wait.
He struck fast—his fists cloaked in blue fire, a signature move from his Flame-Bound Spirit Core. Christian dodged left, then right, barely avoiding the burning swipes.
One hit scorched the edge of his sleeve. Another grazed his ribs.
Pain flared—but something inside him twisted.
More.
He felt the darkness stir inside his core—like it was waking up, feeding on the pressure.
Kael came again, cocky and fast.
Christian caught his wrist.
The moment they touched, the black mist surged from Christian's hand—just for a second—and Kael screamed.
His arm went numb, spirit energy disrupted.
Christian stepped in, landed a clean punch to the gut, then followed with a shoulder slam that knocked Kael flat on his back.
Gasps echoed through the crowd.
Even the instructor blinked. "Winner… Christian Vale."
Kael lay groaning, clutching his arm.
Christian turned, chest rising and falling. His veins still pulsed with the dark energy—but it faded fast, retreating like a shadow into his core.
Later That Night – Rooftop
Christian sat alone again, breathing slowly.
Kien joined him, quiet as ever.
"You knew that would happen, didn't you?" he asked.
She sat beside him, hugging her knees. "I had a feeling. I've seen that kind of power before."
Christian looked at her. "What kind of power?"
She didn't answer right away.
"My mother was part of the old-world cultivators," Kien said softly. "People who touched something... deeper than spirit energy. Something darker. They called it Void Qi."
Christian froze. The word felt too familiar.
Kien looked at him. "Only one in ten million can awaken a core that adapts through struggle. But even fewer—less than a handful—can carry Void roots in their spirit."
Christian swallowed hard. "You think that's what I have?"
"I don't know." She paused. "But if it is, it'll either destroy you… or make you a legend."
In the shadows far from the city, something stirred.
A spirit watcher perched atop a ruined tower. Its eyes opened—pitch black with spiraling rings.
It had felt the activation of a forgotten power.
And it began to move.
Toward Christian Vale.