The Phoenix soul: A legend Arises

Chapter 28: "A Sentinel's warning" 

The academy's classes were not conventional by any means. While there were occasional lessons in calculation and strategy, the primary focus was on combat, pushing boundaries, and surpassing personal limits. The beginner-level class, where Thrain now sat, was no different.

The substitute instructor, a wiry man with a nervous disposition, stood at the front of the room. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke about fire manipulation and the role of anger. He avoided making direct eye contact with Thrain, though his gaze would occasionally flicker toward the prince. The instructor stuttered often, clearly uncomfortable under Thrain's unrelenting stare.

Thrain, however, wasn't truly watching the man. His piercing gaze was a mask for his wandering thoughts. He had tuned out most of the lecture, dismissing it as the same misguided rhetoric he had already rejected. The only time he paid attention was when the topic of mana control was mentioned, one of the few things he deemed useful in this environment.

Instead, his mind was elsewhere. He noticed something odd about the class dynamic: there wasn't a single woman or girl in the room. It wasn't just this class either, he realized he hadn't seen any women in the academy's training sessions or classrooms.

"So, besides flawed fire teachings, there's also gender bias and inequality here, huh?" Thrain thought, his expression hardening. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as he quietly assessed the situation.

…

The class was eventually instructed to move to the academy's practice fields, where fire techniques and mana control would supposedly be demonstrated. Thrain, however, found himself skeptical. How could they expect anyone to master mana control while being perpetually angry? Anger burned through mana like fuel, leaving nothing but exhaustion behind. The contradiction gnawed at him, further solidifying his disdain for the academy's teachings.

As the group headed out, Thrain silently diverted from the others. His destination: the chambers of Master Takamori, the top instructor in the academy, a man often referred to as the principal and a master of flames. Thrain had no respect for the man, he'd heard enough rumors to know he was as corrupt as they came, hiding behind his mastery while indulging in depravity.

When Thrain entered the room, his suspicions were confirmed. A girl stood there, her face bruised and her posture trembling. Her presence reeked of exploitation, and the sight ignited a quiet storm of rage within Thrain.

"What is this?" Thrain demanded, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through stone. His eyes locked onto Takamori, who was lounging lazily, clearly unfazed.

The old man sneered, brushing off Thrain's tone as if it were beneath him. "What are you doing here, Prince?" he mocked, his voice dripping with disdain. "You may think your title gives you privilege, but your father was clear, you are to be treated like everyone else. No special treatment here. Now, get out before—"

"That's enough," Thrain interrupted coldly, his voice steady but commanding. He didn't raise his tone, but the weight of his words was undeniable. "Master Takamori, I think we're done hearing your nonsense."

Takamori froze for a moment, taken aback by the sudden authority in Thrain's voice. Before he could regain composure, Thrain turned to the girl. His tone softened, but there was an unspoken urgency in his words.

"You," he said firmly. "Leave. Now."

The girl hesitated, her wide eyes flickering

"Don't move, you know I'll find you," Takamori sneered at the girl, his voice dripping with menace. "And don't believe the rumors about the prince. He's weak, a useless prince. Nothing more."

His dismissive tone revealed his ignorance of the morning's events, a fact that struck Thrain immediately. The man had no idea about the earlier fight, nor the impression it left. Without a word, Thrain grabbed the girl's hand, gently but firmly guiding her toward the door.

"Go," he said quietly but resolutely. Before she could leave, he placed a golden coin in her hand, a gesture that caught her completely off guard. It was a rare and valuable item, a symbol of wealth and care far beyond what she was used to. She hesitated, glancing at him as if to question his generosity, but his expression told her there was no room for debate. She nodded and disappeared from the room.

As the door closed, Takamori's face twisted with fury. His anger radiated through the room, heavy and suffocating. Thrain's instincts flared in warning, but he stood his ground. He watched as the old man grabbed a jug of boiling water, tilting it toward his mouth. The steam hissed and rose as Takamori gulped it down. When he exhaled, a torrent of scalding steam poured out like the breath of a dragon.

"So," Takamori began, his voice now deep and gravelly, "what are you here for, Prince?"

Thrain didn't flinch. "I came to question why women aren't allowed on these grounds."

Takamori's laughter erupted suddenly, echoing through the room. "You just got here, and you're already questioning the academy?" he mocked, his tone laced with ridicule. "Do you even know how long this institution has stood? Your father attended this academy, albeit briefly, but it still counts. And now, here you are, barging into my quarters, taking my slave away, and demanding answers about traditions that will never change!"

His voice grew louder, angrier, with each word. "Women? You expect the academy to waste time on them? They're weaker, Prince. They lack the muscle, the endurance, the explosiveness required to wield fire like us. Their bodies can't handle it. They're not built for greatness. This is a place for warriors, not fragile little dolls."

He stood then, and for the first time, Thrain got a clear sense of Takamori's physicality. Despite his age, the man was surprisingly large, with a thick frame that spoke of years of training and brute strength. But Thrain didn't flinch; his resolve only deepened.

"You really believe that strength is the only measure of worth?" Thrain said coolly, his voice cutting through Takamori's anger like a blade. "You're so blinded by your outdated beliefs that you can't see the real problem. If you think I'm here to listen to your excuses, you're wrong. I'm here to change them."

Takamori's face darkened, his veins pulsing with fury. For the first time in years, someone had dared to challenge him, and it was the prince no less. His anger boiled, literally, as wisps of steam began escaping his skin.

"The sun's blazing today," Takamori muttered, gazing out the window with a calm yet ominous tone. He turned to Thrain, his expression devoid of any deference. "Thrain," he began, deliberately leaving out the title of Prince, "you've only just awakened, and yet you dare step into my quarters? Do you even understand the meaning of a Master? Let me show you."

The room began to shift as if the air itself had turned hostile. The temperature rose sharply, heat waves distorting the view, and steam poured from Takamori's skin, forming a misty shroud around him. Thrain's vision blurred slightly, his body struggling to adjust to the oppressive atmosphere. His blue flames flared instinctively, the vibrant glow illuminating the room as his enhanced eyes activated, trying to counter the effects.

Thrain could feel the strain almost immediately. The night before, his overuse of the ability in the fights had taken its toll. His energy was running low, and exhaustion pressed heavily on him. Still, he didn't back down. Every fiber of his being told him to flee, but pride and determination rooted him in place.

"Ah, The Flames of Awakening," Takamori said, his voice dripping with mockery and intrigue. "So the rumors are true. I'll have to end this quickly before you evolve further."

Before Thrain could process his words, Takamori vanished in a flash, his speed unmatched. The old man's hand, glowing with green flames, connected with Thrain in a blur. The emerald fire caught him instantly, its searing intensity unlike anything he had faced before. It wasn't just heat, it felt invasive, sinking into his skin and suffocating his blue flames. Thrain's instincts screamed, and for the first time, fear crept into his resolve.

Then, out of nowhere, a deafening crack of lightning exploded through the room. Takamori was thrown backward, landing on the far side. Stunned, he scrambled to his feet, his confidence shaken. "What the—?" he cursed, his gaze darting toward the source of the interruption.

There stood Daelan, his presence commanding, with the signature calm ferocity of an Onyx Sentinel. His piercing gaze locked onto Takamori, and the Master faltered for a brief moment.

"An Onyx Sentinel?" Takamori said, his voice tinged with unease. But then he spotted the gray, silver-streaked hair, and his expression darkened further. "Daelan..." he muttered, recognition dawning. His earlier confidence wavered, now replaced with caution.

Meanwhile, Thrain's blue flames flickered weakly, their power being overrun by the green flames. He gritted his teeth as the fire began to sink into his head, burning through his thoughts and energy. For a moment, panic set in, his flames weren't responding like they usually did. The ability that often acted on its own seemed to be failing him now, and he was at a loss for what to do.

Daelan acted swiftly, drawing the green flames out of Thrain with practiced precision. The invasive energy dispersed into harmless smoke, and Thrain's chest heaved with relief.

"Foolish move, Thrain," Daelan said sternly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Trying to fight a Master in your condition... You're not ready yet."

…

Daelan turned his piercing gaze toward Takamori, his voice calm yet laced with quiet authority. "You deserve punishment, not just for this, but for all the other vile acts you've committed. However," he paused, letting the weight of his words settle, "that's not my place. I am a protector of the kingdom, not its executioner. We Sentinels don't meddle in fights like these. People like you" his eyes darkened, "you're a reminder of how broken the system is, how broken the world is, people like you must exist. But everything has its time. Your reckoning will come soon enough."

Takomori's bravado faltered, the weight of Daelan's warning making the air feel heavier.

Daelan continued, his tone turning colder, "But hear me now, Takamori. Lay a hand on Thrain again, and you won't face a warning next time." He stepped forward slightly, his aura flaring, as if daring the old man to make a move. "I know you think you're untouchable, but even a Master should understand this, I'm one too."

The tension in the room was palpable, as Takamori stood rooted, the usual fire in his eyes dimmed by the realization of Daelan's superiority.

With that, Daelan stepped back and looked at Thrain, his expression softening slightly. "Learn from this, Thrain. You can't change the system if you burn out before your time."

And with a burst of power, Daelan shot upward, breaking through the roof effortlessly, leaving a gaping hole and a stunned silence in his wake. Steam and dust swirled around the room as Thrain stood there, processing everything. Takamori was silent, his earlier arrogan

ce replaced with simmering frustration, while Thrain's resolve only seemed to harden.