NOVEL NEXT Chapter 34: Royal Ultimatum
Chapter 34: "Royal Ultimatum"
The two warriors were completely exhausted. Daelan let out a long sigh and stretched his arms. "I think that's enough for today. What do you say, Thrain? Let your uncle rest now, OK?"
Thrain nodded but didn't let him go without a few lingering questions. "So... my mother's name is Chen?" he asked, his tone curious.
Daelan paused, his expression turning to disbelief. "Yes... Wait. You didn't know that? What in the world has Arin been doing?" he muttered, shaking his head. "How could he keep that from you? I'll need to have a serious word with him someday."
"Forget about it," Thrain replied quickly, brushing past Daelan's frustration. "I've got another question. Earlier, when you placed your hand on my chest, it felt like you were trying to take something from me. What was that about?"
Daelan thought for a moment before answering. "I wasn't exactly taking anything from you. I was attempting to absorb the flames or, as we often call it, mana. Some people can draw it out and use it; others can't. It's risky, though. What isn't yours shouldn't mix with your own energy. If it does, it can lead to... well, complications."
Thrain nodded slowly, processing the explanation.
"That's enough questions for now," Daelan said with a faint smile, his exhaustion catching up with him. "I'm heading to rest. You should do the same."
With that, Daelan turned and walked away, not flying or using any special techniques this time. His slow, deliberate steps were enough to show how tired he truly was.
Or so Thrain thought, because the very next second, Daelan blasted off into the distance with a burst of flames, leaving nothing but a trail of heat behind him.
Thrain stood there for a moment, watching the fading light of his uncle's departure. He sighed, ready to head home himself, but something stirred inside him. A feeling, a thought, clicked into place.
"I don't think I should leave. Not yet."
Instead of heading back, he stayed, determined to make the most of the quiet night. Remembering Daelan's words about fire users being weaker at night and how training at your weakest builds strength, Thrain decided to push himself.
With the little mana he had left, he began practicing fire construction, focusing on molding the flames into solid shapes. Each attempt was a struggle, but he poured everything into refining his control. He worked to master the hardening of flames, testing how much he could compress the heat into something tangible. Despite his exhaustion, he refused to give up, intent on perfecting his craft.
…
After hours of relentless effort, pushing every ounce of mana he had left, Thrain finally succeeded. He summoned a massive surge of flames and forced them into a condensed form. When it was done, he held it in his hand, a hardened ball of fire.
But it wasn't the triumphant result he had hoped for. The ball was no larger than a marble.
Staring at it, frustration boiled over. All that time, all that energy, and this tiny thing was the result? The colossal flames he had summoned should have compressed into something far more significant. He clenched his fist, scowling at the wasted effort, and hurled the marble-sized construct into the air in anger.
The moment it left his hand, it detonated. A powerful explosion rippled outward, the force of it catching him off guard, pushing him back slightly, and sending his hair into disarray. Thrain froze for a moment, staring at the aftermath, then smirked to himself. Perhaps this wasn't a complete failure after all. With that thought, he decided to head home. At the very least, it was progress.
Unbeknownst to him, Daelan had been watching from high in the trees, his figure concealed in the shadows. A smile tugged at his lips as he observed the scene.
"Well, well, my nephew pulled it off," he said softly, pride evident in his tone. "To compress that much flame into something so small... impressive. He might not realize it, but that level of control is rare. Hell, I can't even manage it consistently. It takes too much mana to harden flames to that degree, let alone use it for protection."
Daelan leaned against the tree trunk, watching Thrain disappear into the distance. "But him... he's different. I think he has more mana than I do. He might surpass every boundary we've ever known."
…
Thrain stumbled into his home, utterly drained from the night's training. Without much thought, he collapsed onto the bed, letting exhaustion take over.
When he woke, a sharp knock at the door startled him. Blinking, he realized he didn't even remember getting into bed. As he sat up, he noticed the Bijins standing nearby, watching him with quiet curiosity. Before he could say anything, the door creaked open, revealing two guards standing at attention.
"You've been summoned by His Majesty," one of them announced firmly, their tone leaving little room for argument.
Thrain sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Tell him I'm coming," he muttered groggily.
The guards exchanged a glance. "It's not a request," the other said, stepping forward slightly. "The summons is immediate."
For a moment, they looked as though they might force him to comply, but hesitation flashed across their faces. They knew of his recent exploits and his history. Reluctantly, they stepped back, giving him space.
Thrain stretched, his expression unreadable. "Alright," he said, his voice steady. "Let's get this over with."
Thrain followed the guards to the king's throne room, the sound of their boots echoing through the grand hall. The air was heavy with formality, but Thrain hardly cared. As they entered, the same familiar face greeted him, King Arin, seated on the high throne, radiating authority. To Thrain, it was just another face, one he didn't particularly revere.
Beside the king stood Takamori, the master of the academy, his presence dignified yet stern. Thrain felt no need for formality, but the guards nudged him, and with some reluctance, he offered a bow, adhering to the royal customs.
King Arin's deep voice filled the chamber, each word deliberate and weighted with power. "Thrain," he began, his gaze sharp. "You stand here today accused of being disruptive and problematic since the very day you stepped foot into the academy. Fighting your peers, challenging the very culture we hold sacred, even daring to face the master of the academy in combat. The audacity to strike an instructor, to seize control of a class without authority, these are not merely the actions of a student but of someone who undermines the foundation of this kingdom."
The hall was silent, the weight of his words palpable. Arin leaned forward slightly, his tone more severe. "Such behavior cannot be tolerated. You carry the blood of this kingdom, but that does not place you above its laws or customs. If you continue to sow chaos within the academy, you leave us no choice but to act. Let this serve as your warning: one more offense, and you will face expulsion from the academy. And should you disgrace this kingdom further, banishment will follow."
Takamori stepped forward then, his expression a mix of disappointment and frustration. "Thrain, the academy is not a playground for rebellion," he said in a calm yet stern tone. "It is a place of discipline and mastery. Your talent is undeniable, but if you continue to act without regard for the rules, your potential will be wasted. Do not mistake leniency for weakness."
Thrain said nothing, his expression unreadable as the words sank in. The warning was clear: any further misconduct, and the consequences would be severe. After a tense pause, King Arin dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "You may leave, but heed this warning well, Thrain. There will not be a second chance."
As Thrain turned to leave, Takamori's eyes lingered on him, a silent message passing between them. Thrain understood: this wasn't just a royal decree, it was a test, one he couldn't afford to fail.