The wind howled above the jagged ridges overlooking Greystone as General Darion Bragg flew across the skies, his cloak billowing like a battle banner behind him. His beast—Stormrazor, a massive thunder-plumed war eagle—sliced through the air with effortless grace.
But Darion's eyes narrowed, and his knuckles whitened around the reins.
"Something's wrong," he muttered.
A flash of silver flickered across his irises—Precognitive Pulse, his personal skill. It tingled in the back of his mind like static, whispering danger, loss, and blood.
"The envoys..."
Stormrazor let out a shrill cry as Darion yanked the reins hard. He banked, veering from his return course and racing back toward the mine site.
The carnage was fresh.
Lucas and Elira stood amidst the broken remains of the enemy encampment, the last of the blood still steaming on the rocky soil. The bodies of Darion's spies lay motionless, cleanly executed—silent testament to Lucas's blade and Elira's arrows.
A gust swept over them.
Lucas's eyes snapped upward.
"He's back."
A thunderous screech shattered the sky as Stormrazor descended with blinding speed, Darion on its back with his great halberd crackling with lightning.
Elira's eyes narrowed. "He came faster than expected."
Lucas stepped forward, calm and resolute.
"Fall back, Elira. This one's mine."
Elira flinched. "Lucas, you're not—"
"I want to test the new skill. And... I need to show what kind of ruler they're facing."
Before she could argue, Zephyra leapt from behind a rock, wings unfurled.
The juvenile wind dragon locked eyes with Stormrazor. For a heartbeat, the air stilled.
Stormrazor's screech faltered.
Legendary Beast Aura—the inherited instinctual fear that all lesser beasts held toward royalty.
Zephyra soared into the sky, her wings carving gales in her wake.
...
Darion leapt from Stormrazor mid-air, his halberd blazing with thunder.
"You killed my men!"
Lucas raised his sword, his cloak fluttering from the energy building around him.
"I gave them a chance. They chose death."
Darion growled and charged, each step shaking the ground. Lucas didn't move.
[Skill Activated: Predict]
Time slowed.
For the next 10 seconds, Darion's every move unfolded before Lucas's mind like a ghostly afterimage—every swing, every step, every breath.
He dodged to the left, a thunderous halberd strike tearing the stone behind him.
He weaved through the barrage, slashing at the exposed gaps in Darion's armor.
Blood spilled.
Darion roared, retreating to recover. "You're fast... too fast."
Lucas's eyes gleamed.
"You're just slow."
...
The skies raged with lightning and wind.
Stormrazor dove, beak shining with magical pressure. Zephyra twirled mid-air, avoiding the strike by a feather's breath.
With a screech, she countered, releasing a burst of wind blades.
Stormrazor flinched, caught in the flurry. Feathers scattered.
But it wasn't over.
Stormrazor retaliated, wings flapping with a thunderous boom, sending shockwaves toward Zephyra.
Zephyra corkscrewed upward, then roared—a deep, ancestral roar not befitting a juvenile.
Stormrazor froze.
His instincts screamed: This is not prey. This is a queen.
...
Lucas moved like a blur, using his Predict skill to anticipate and counter every offensive. But the skill ended.
Darion struck, his halberd grazing Lucas's shoulder.
Lucas slid back, bleeding but still standing.
Darion snarled. "You're just a kid!"
Lucas grinned.
"No. I'm the storm that swallowed the Tide."
He then calls Zephyra and crosses his blades and channels his fusion energy.
[Beast Fusion: Umbra + Zephyra—Form: Shadow Tempest Cloak]
A cloak of dark gold and violet wind wrapped around him. His steps became silent. Each strike blurred reality.
Darion swung with a cry—only to hit air.
Lucas appeared behind him.
A dagger at the throat.
"You lost the moment you underestimated me."
But he didn't kill him.
Lucas pulled back.
"Leave. Warn your master. Greystone doesn't kneel."
Darion, panting and bloodied, staggered back. "This... this isn't over."
Stormrazor descended to retrieve him, trembling before Zephyra's watchful gaze.
Lucas turned to Elira.
He was bruised, bloodied, but standing.
"That was a nice warm-up."
She smiled softly. "Show-off."
The wind shifted.
War was no longer coming.
It had arrived.
.....................
Ding!
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Starting tomorrow, I'll be releasing 2 chapters a day until we hit Chapter 40! Thanks so much for the support, everyone.