"A gun?" Edward asked as he stared at the weapon in Jake's hand.
"Yea bro." Jake affirmed with a proud smile. "It is a weapon summoned by my gift, I named it myself."
Edward scoffed. "You expect me to believe that you could come up with such a cool name? Tch."
"Okay, you got me. I didn't come up with it, it was named by its creators back in its reality."
"Reality?" Edward blinked.
"Yea, my Gift allows me to—"
"Are you trying to tell me what your gift does?" Edward interrupted.
"Yes, any problem with that?"
"Lots. Who the hell does such a stupid thing?" Edward voice raised slightly. Then it cooled, "it doesn't matter anyway, explained Gift or not, you aren't my match."
Jake's grin widened. "We'll see about that."
Edward didn't answer.
He simply inhaled.
The flames at his feet twitched—then rose, dancing like they'd heard a song only he could play. His jacket billowed back, though there was no wind. Sparks gathered at his shoulders like embers summoned to prayer. Slowly, he raised one hand—
And snapped his fingers.
Boom.
The cavern shuddered.
Fire exploded in a perfect spiral around him, casting a ring of light that carved shadows into the very stone. His silhouette stood tall at the center of it, framed in roaring orange and gold.
Then the temperature dropped.
Not rose—dropped.
Because Edward wasn't just summoning fire.
He was draining heat from the very air, compressing it into raw potential.
The flames quieted, shrinking inward like they were bowing.
"Let me explain something," Edward said, voice low but echoing with impossible weight. "I am not just a fire-user. I am not just a prodigy."
He raised both arms.
A phoenix made of plasma curled around his back, wings stretching wide.
"I am the Archduke's son. I am the heir to the Infernal Crown."
The fire reshaped again—into a crown above his head, hovering, molten, radiant.
"And every step I take," Edward continued, stepping forward as the flames parted before him, "is a declaration."
Boom.
With each step, the ground beneath him ignited.
"I am power. I am prestige. I am pressure incarnate."
He flared his coat outward with a flick of his wrist, letting it catch the light like a royal mantle.
"I'm not aura-farming."
He paused, lips curling.
"I'm running a whole goddamn aura plantation."
Jake blinked.
"…Wow," he said after a beat. "You… really practice these lines in the mirror, don't you?"
Edward's eye twitched.
"Die."
He waved his right hand.
An intense wave of flames crashed forward, consuming everything in it's path.
Jake reacted instantly, shooting himself into the air in a backflip. Multiple chips fell from his body mid motion.
The chips materialized into Automated Battle Androids as soon as they hit the floor. He androids did not hesitate and shot forward.
But.
They were all immediately reduced to ashes as soon as they made contact with the flame wave.
Jake was unfazed as he sat idly on a hovering platform—a hoverboard. By his shoulder was a futuristic cannon, a name was carved to its side: Frozen Emma.
A frozen ball shot out of the cannon, mid flight, it dissolved, turning into a frost wave that collided with the flame wave, canceling each other out.
Edward seemed unfazed and he was about to attack again when a voice cut through the chaos.
"Who dares disturb my gentle slumber."
The two combatants snapped their head to the side, and there stood a hunched grey haired old man. Surprise flashed through their eyes as they had not sensed his presence prior to him talking.
"Oh it is the younger generation. Good." The old man suddenly laughed. "Gather around younglings, and come listen to the teachings of this old Sage."
Edward and Jake shared confused looks.
Meanwhile, a few distance away.
Dara stifled her breath as she watched on in delight. "Pressuring him to do this was so worth it."
---
Far away from the battlefield.
At the Catacombs center.
A man stood upright, his gaze trained on a sword lodged firmly into an altar.
Runes flickered all around the sword as it's presence seem to make space itself tremble.
"I thought I would have to wait a hundred years." The man suddenly spoke up. He then looked into the distance, at the Catacombs inner level. "But it seems I was wrong."
A sinister smile crept up his face.
"The universe has delivered unto me, Catalyst."
As soon as he said the this, a ripple spread out from him.
Main Core.
Maki office.
Her eyes were glued to a screen showcasing Sion dressed as an old man, trolling his fellow students.
"This boy is really weird." She couldn't help but mutter.
Suddenly.
The screen went blank.
Not just that one, but every screen displaying scenes in the Catacombs went blank.
Maki brought up her system interface and hurriedly tried to reconnect the screens. That was when she discovered she no longer had access to the Catacombs.
Her eyes went wide as she sat up.
"O-oh."
---
Back at the battlefield.
Edward and Jake sat cross-legged on the ground like schoolchildren, their expressions grim.
They'd long since stopped fighting—convinced the old sage who interrupted them was some hidden master of the Academy.
And when he promised to teach them ancient techniques—moves that would "redefine the limits of their Gifts"—they listened, thinking they'd stumbled onto a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Big mistake.
For the past twenty minutes, the old man had done nothing but throw bizarre insults and quote people who clearly didn't exist.
"You two fight like chickens," the sage muttered, shaking his head in disappointment. "No form. No technique. Your instincts are dull. Your minds are slower than a snail in molasses."
With every insult, Edward's face twitched.
"If you truly hate someone, you don't fight with fists," the old man declared, one hand raised to the sky. "You fight with guts and glory."
Then he stared off dramatically into space, eyes misty.
"'If you hate, hate to your core. And when you fight, fight till gore.' — the wise words of Sir Kendrick, before he faced the Melody Drake."
Jake and Edward exchanged a glance.
Who the hell is that?
Just as Jake opened his mouth to say something, a new presence entered the clearing.
A small boy wandered into view, happily munching on a sandwich, eyes wide as he looked around the scorched battlefield.
"Miler?" Jake called.
Miler looked up mid-bite. "Oh hey, guys."
He stopped, finally registering the scene—Jake, Edward, and a strange old man seated on the ground like a weird meditation club.
"Did I miss something?"
"Come, young one," the Sage beckoned, gesturing graciously. "Sit. Join our pursuit of higher understanding."
Miler blinked, then shrugged. "Aight."
He sat down next to Jake and, to everyone's surprise, pulled out a notebook and pen.
The old man's eyes gleamed. "Excellent. Excellent. For such eagerness, I shall bestow upon you a Divine-Grade Battle Technique… when my lesson ends."
"Hey, no fair." Edward shot up. He pointed at Miler. "Why does he get a Divine Grade? I was the first to meet teacher and all I was promised was a Rare Grade... I don't know the technique rankings, but I am sure Divine is much higher than Rare..."
"Well, that is because you barely payed attention to what I was teaching, but he over there took out a book and pen immediately, showing his seriousness." The old Sage answered in a gentle, wise manner.
"Hmph." Edward scoffed, then he sat down back and soon a pair of books and pens appeared in his front.
Just then—
A sound pierced the air.
Snorting.
Then snickering.
Then full-blown, uncontrollable laughter.
Everyone froze.
Their heads turned in unison toward the source—behind a half-broken boulder a few meters away.
Dara.
Crouched low, one hand clutched to her stomach, the other covering her mouth as she laughed so hard she nearly choked.
Edward's eye twitched.
He raised his hand.
FWOOOM.
A fireball roared through the air and obliterated the boulder in a single blast, reducing it to molten dust. But when the flames cleared—
Dara was still standing.
Still laughing.
Barely holding herself up.
Jake squinted. "Wait… is that—?"
Edward's eyes narrowed.
Then he spotted it.
Nestled neatly in her hair like an accessory—black as ink, softly pulsing with energy—
The Voidpetal.
In a burst of flame, he surged forward.
Jake stood up. "Guess we're doing this."
"Yup," Miler said, still chewing on the edge of his sandwich. "Let's chase the shiny thing."
The three launched toward Dara in a wave of chaos—fire, gadgets, and blind excitement.
And just as they were about to reach her—
BOOM.
A hurricane-force wind erupted, blasting all three of them back.
The Sage stood in front of Dara, cane outstretched, robes billowing with unnatural power. His expression unreadable. His posture calm.
"You!" Edward snarled in anger.
"What?" The old Sage asked, but then his expression quickly turned into surprise—he had made a mishap.
"You aren't no Sage, you are a fucking student like us." Miler dropped his sandwich, shock and betrayal evident in his face.
Sion merely shrugged, dropping the Sage act.
It was fun while it lasted. Anyways.
He stood up straight and took a battle stance.
"Let's duel. Three of you at once."
"Arrogant." Edward called out.
"Yes, I am. Now, bring it on... I have never truly fought with a truly gifted before..."
A smirk played on his lips.
"...Let's see how strong I truly am."