The training grounds outside Elandor were quiet beneath a pale, early morning sky. Kael stood alone on a jagged outcrop overlooking the city, the distant hum of life below a faint echo beneath the raw energy thrumming in his veins.
He closed his eyes and took a breath.
Lightning Essence came first—fast, sharp, always hungry. Sparks danced across his shoulders and down his arms, leaping from fingertip to fingertip. Storm Essence followed: chaotic, unrelenting, pushing back against his control with howling resistance. Finally, the fire came—slow, steady, but burning hotter with every breath. Flame Essence curled around his chest like coals beneath skin, the last pillar in his triad of power.
Kael opened his eyes.
The glow in his irises pulsed brighter now, flickering with lightning arcs and stormfire currents. This wasn't just Maelstorm Overburn anymore. He was trying to make it himself. No more calling it forth as a technique—he wanted it to be his constant, sustained state in battle.
The energy surged, surging through every fiber of muscle, wrapping his limbs in streaking flame and crackling wind. For a moment, the pressure mounted—like being pulled apart from the inside out. He gritted his teeth and held firm. No trembling. No collapse.
"Longer this time…" he muttered, voice low beneath the wind.
Seconds turned to minutes. Essence bled off in waves, scorching the ground near his feet and crackling in the air around him like distant thunderclouds. His muscles screamed for rest, lungs burning not from exhaustion, but from sheer output. But Kael didn't stop.
When the inner storm finally settled, he exhaled and pushed into motion.
He spun sharply, arms extended. Essence flared from his fingertips like wildfire unleashed—Stormfire Whip Spiral erupted from his core, a twisting, flaming lash of Lightning and Storm Essence corkscrewing through the air. The whip tore into the training dummies at the edge of the field, slicing one clean in half while the rest were ignited by the fiery trail. Lightning danced across the ground, shorting out embedded rune anchors meant to simulate magical defenses.
Kael dropped low, fists slamming into the scorched earth.
Thunderflare Surge exploded outward in a pillar of golden flame and wind-blown lightning. The rocky platform beneath him fractured. Simulated enemies were incinerated. And for a moment, Kael stood in the heart of his own storm—smoke rising, heat rippling through the air, embers flickering at his boots.
His body trembled, not from weakness but from resonance. This was the power he had been building toward.
Maelstorm Overburn isn't just my limit anymore… It's my foundation.
He wiped sweat from his brow and let the Essence settle, body still thrumming with residual current. His breathing was sharp but satisfied. The day had only just begun, but he'd already carved a path forward.
A soft voice called from behind him. "Oh wow. You really don't do casual training, do you?"
Kael turned to see Leiya standing at the edge of the shattered platform, hands on her hips and her long black hair tied in a loose braid. Her cheeks were flushed, either from her jog over or the sheer heat radiating from his storm-charged aura.
"I've been here since dawn," Kael said, brushing ash from his forearm.
"No kidding." She stepped closer, eyeing the destruction. "The guild told me I'd find you out here, but I wasn't expecting to walk into a crater." She kicked a smoking dummy. "Or what's left of one."
He gave her a slight nod. "Just refining some new techniques."
Leiya tilted her head. "Some? That looked like a one-man siege. Let me guess—Stormfire something? Thunder-punch something?"
Kael blinked.
She laughed. "I knew it. I've been watching the way you use your Essence. It's like watching a controlled explosion that forgot how to stay small."
Her teasing earned a faint smirk from Kael. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Good, because it was." She turned and looked out over the city with a more serious expression. "We've got another mission soon. Another Varnok surge, near the western ridge this time. They want us to scout ahead before sending the larger team."
Kael's expression shifted. "How long until we move?"
"Two hours. Just enough time for breakfast… or another round of you wrecking this plateau." She grinned again, then hesitated. "Kael… seriously. That power you're building—doesn't it hurt?"
"Every time," he said simply. "But if I can't control it when it hurts, I don't deserve to use it when it matters."
Her grin softened. "You're scary when you talk like that, you know."
"Good." He glanced at her. "Means I'm doing something right."
The wind stirred between them, charged with the scent of ash, ozone, and something unspoken.
Leiya broke the silence with a sudden clap. "Well, come on, Storm Boy. If we're going to run face-first into death again, I want to do it on a full stomach."
Kael followed her down the path toward Elandor, the storm still humming inside him—not as a weapon waiting to be unleashed, but as a part of him now. Alive.