Alex commented, frowning, "It looks like they're balanced."
Beatriz kept her eyes fixed on the duel and shook her head. "Only on the surface. This equality won't last."
Iza leaned over, worried. "What do you mean?"
—The Young Lord is at a lower level. If the fight continues at this pace, he will win without elemental power… and he will lose.
Alex unclenched his fist. "So John has to go all out right away?"
Beatriz arched an eyebrow. "Not necessarily. If you use full force now, you'll run out of energy even faster."
Iza bit the delays.— So what should he do?
— There is no easy way out. Either way, defeat is almost certain. The impressive thing is how he sustains the battle against someone stronger — Beatriz admitted, with a spark of admiration in her eyes.
In the center of the arena, the confrontation continued.
Victoria handed over the flaming sword.— Sea of Flames!
She leapt back and cut through the air. A tidal wave of fire surged forward, engulfing the space around John.
The response was instantaneous: a luxurious translucent dome ‑rose, blue ice cracking like crystal— Polar Star Magic Art: Ice Prison . The frozen wall contained the flames, and John didn't even need to enter the enchantment.
He spread his hands in an arc. From the sky of the training ground, crystal hailstones fell, extinguishing the fire— Polar Star Magic Art: Ice Crystal Rain , again without a word.
Victoria recoiled in surprise. She had trained with John every day for the past week, but this surpassed anything she had witnessed. What she didn't know: for John, those seven days had been fifteen in the Soul Sea—each filled with crushing defeats.
John adjusted his posture, sword in front.—Sea-Splitting Art, First Form: Rising Waves!
The ice-blue blade ‑cut through the air, releasing a pressure that caused the flags on the surrounding poles to flutter.
Swinging his sword, John unleashed the First Form: Rising Waves . The blade sliced through the air with precision, and a new wave of icy energy shot toward Victoria. However, unlike the previous one, this one was vast, dense, and terrifying. Its power seemed doubled, as if it carried within it the unwavering will to cut through to the horizon.
Victoria, accustomed to the technique before, underestimated the danger.— Flame Creation Magic: Fire Wall version!
A transparent, incandescent wall loomed before her with a flaming roar. But it was useless. The cutting wave tore through the wall like wind through mist, extinguishing the flames without even losing momentum.
Victoria's eyes widened. Instinctively, she pushed her body upwards, reaching almost four meters in the air in a desperate attempt to dodge. But since her base was temporarily sealed in the Primary level , she had no way to fly. Gravity did its job mercilessly: it pulled ‑her back down.
John wasted no time. He knew that in the air, without mastery of flight, Victoria would not be able to move freely.— Sea-Splitting Sword, Second Form: Splitting the Sea!
A diagonal slash cut across the field. A beam of blue light, three meters long, shot out like a spear. Victoria, still suspended in midair, had no way to escape. She gathered elemental power around her body, invoking her most aggressive defensive technique.
— Creation Magic: Claws of the Golden Crow!
With a fierce crack, a flaming claw appeared before her, shaped by golden flames and covered in ancient runes. The impact was brutal. Sword and claw collided with a loud boom that shook the ground. The claw held on for a moment… and then began to crumble. The flames were consumed one by one, and the remaining beam of the sword struck Victoria's body.
She plummeted like a meteor, opening a small crater in the center of the arena.
— Amazing… — Alex murmured, eyes wide.
— John can win! — Iza exclaimed , with unbridled joy.
"Young lord… quite strong, after all," commented Bo the barbarian, as he absently scratched his enormous war horn.
Beatriz, however, remained silent. Her beautiful eyes, intense and firm, were fixed on the arena like blades. Beside her, Catarina, Felícia and Fernando also did not say a word. There was something in their looks that went beyond surprise — it was a dense silence, as if each one carried a contained memory, a fear or a repressed admiration.
When the dust finally cleared, Victoria was revealed—trapped inside a crystalline structure made entirely of ice. The prison was cold, bright, and cruel.
Stunned, she narrowed her eyes. "How...? How can he cast spells without chanting the incantations?"
She didn't know. No one there knew. But inside John, hidden in his Soul Sea, the one who silently chanted each spell… was the Ôni .
With a muffled scream, Victoria swung her flaming sword. A storm of flames shot out from her blade, crashing into the prison walls.
The ice groaned, cracking in patterns as fine as crystal webs. But it held. This was the magic of the Art of the North Star , and it would not give way so easily—even at the cost of consuming an absurd amount of magical power.
John realized something extraordinary when he activated the sonar: the elements water and fire repel each other. The discovery gave him an idea — and with his remaining power, he decided to go all in.
The ice prison melted completely, freeing Victoria. Even so, John encased her in a new crystalline barrier.
Beatriz frowned, not taking her eyes off the fight. "This is useless. He's tried before. Why waste what little power he has left?"
Iza clenched her fists, determined to believe. "John must have a plan. He will win in the end."
Alex kept his gaze steady. "Let's wait and see."
— Come on, John, you can do it! — Iza shouted , filling the field with her voice. — That's right, you can do it! — Alex reinforced. — For the glory of the warrior, go, Young Lord! — Bo Bárbaro shouted , vibrating the horn.
The icy wall was strong, but in the face of Victoria's fire, it could only last a few seconds. John needed time, and he used ‑it well: he threw dozens of balls of water across the ground — some rolled, others hovered in the air, and fine droplets began to fall like a silent drizzle.
Iza gave Alex a confused look, who in turn looked for Beatriz. No one understood the objective. The barrier finally broke; Vitória advanced without hesitation. John responded with more liquid spheres. The princess's flaming sword cut through each one like a hot knife through butter, vaporizing ‑them as it passed.
Suddenly, the temperature plummeted. The entire ground crystallized ‑in an instant. John had used Polar Star Magic Art: Freeze —not against Victoria's body, but against the ground. All the moisture turned into a thick sea of ice.
Victoria raised her blade to destroy the last sphere. The moment the flaming sword touched the ice, it became trapped, sealed by the extreme cold. To avoid the ball, the princess twisted her body and released her grip, losing the weapon.
The crowd held their breath. In the ring, John took a deep breath, feeling the crimson energy of the Oni resonate through his veins. The plan was working; all it took was one decisive blow before the life force taken by the pact became irreversible.
The instant after disarming, John charged forward like lightning, even without a shred of power remaining in his evolution core. He crossed the distance in the blink of an eye and plunged the trembling blade right into Victoria's neck.
She saw him coming. But she didn't move.
"You lost," he said breathlessly. His hand was shaking. His entire body was swaying between the thrill of victory and inevitable collapse. His eyes were glazed, but inside them, something burned.
— John won! I told you he would win! — Iza shouted , jumping for joy.
— He won? It can't be… — Beatriz murmured, in disbelief.
Alex clenched his fists. He had always thought that his level made him stronger than John. But now he saw: that wasn't enough. However, Fernando's calm voice cut through the excitement like an icy blade.
"Junior lost this battle," he said with a slight, almost mocking smile.
— What do you mean?! — everyone asked at the same time. But Fernando remained silent.
In the sea of the soul, a voice as cold as the abyss sounded:
[In the end, we still lost. Well… we'll have to raise our level.]
On the field, John still held his sword trembling before Victoria. But behind him, another Victoria had appeared, raising a flaming blade—aimed straight at his neck.
"I lost," John whispered, accepting defeat with his eyes closed.
The Victory beneath his blade dissolved into scarlet flames, revealing itself to be a clone.
—This is my… Flame Creation Magic: Fire Clone—the real Victory declared with a calm gaze.
John's blade fell. His body followed soon after, collapsing to the ground. He was too exhausted to even speak.
— You did well. You almost managed to defeat me — said Victoria, approaching, with a kind and genuine smile.
John lost consciousness before he could answer.
His eyes slowly opened, flickering. The world seemed to be made of mist and gentle warmth.
And then, you see.
An angelic face looked at him tenderly. Black hair, loose like a river in the night. Eyes equally black, deep as the sky. Lips with delicate features. The oval face radiated a soft, hypnotic beauty. Her smile was the promise of paradise.
John's head rested on her knees. She stroked his hair slowly and carefully.
He didn't know where he was, but at that moment... he wished he would never leave.
— I… am hungry…
Catarina laughed more openly, her laughter was like a light melody that brought warmth to the environment.
"That's a good sign," she said, standing up lightly. "I'll make you something nutritious. Don't move around too much yet. Your energy may seem to have returned, but your body needs time."
John nodded, his gaze lowered, a little embarrassed by the treacherous sound his stomach made. He watched his mother walk away, her soft footsteps echoing faintly around the room. She was still wearing the simple dress she had always preferred when she was taking care of the house, but there was something imposing about her, like a queen disguised as a peasant.
He remained silent for a few moments, watching the sunlight pass through the curtain and create golden patterns on the floor.
Two days , he thought.
His body might be back… but something inside him had changed. He could feel it. The memory of the flaming sword at his neck, the taste of near victory, the serene look in Victoria's eyes as she declared her defeat… all of that still weighed on his mind like hot iron.
But it wasn't a weight that made him back down.
It was the kind of weight that turns into purpose.
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, taking in the stillness of the room, the smell of polished wood, the distant echo of life in the house.
Soon, Catherine returned with a tray. The soup gave off a rich, comforting aroma, accompanied by fresh bread.
She sat down beside him, carefully placing the tray down.
"Here you go, champion," she said with a smile. "Now eat. You need to be strong for the next battle."
John looked up at his mother and smiled back. There was something sacred about the scene. A defeated warrior being restored by something more powerful than any magic: a mother's love.
And he knew. The journey was just beginning.
Fernando shook his head slightly, his eyes narrowed as if he was carefully measuring each word.
"It's not ideal," he replied in a serious but calm tone. "The two institutes have different philosophies, different methods, different specializations. And it's strategic for me, as a territory lord, to distribute you in a way that maximizes individual development... and also the influence of our house."
Beatriz crossed her arms, looking sideways at Alex as if she already predicted what was coming.
"What are the differences between the two?" Bo asked , direct as always.
Fernando nodded, satisfied with the question.
— The Kassanje Institute is older. Focused on battle techniques and physical enhancement. They have a strong warrior tradition and a legendary library of classical elemental masteries. Many of their instructors are war veterans.
— And the Promised Land? — Beatriz added .
— It's a newer, but revolutionary, institute. It works with experimental branches of magical evolution, especially elemental fusions, mental masteries, and in-depth study of magical bloodlines. It's more theoretical, but extremely advanced.
Alex looked at John and asked:
— And how are we going to decide where each one goes?
Fernando held up a small parchment sealed with the crest of House Venhorst.
— I've already decided.
Silence fell over the group like a blanket. Catarina glanced sideways at Fernando, but did not interfere. She knew that, as a lord, he had thought long and hard before making this decision.
Fernando began reading, his voice solemn:
— Alex will go to the Kassanje Institute. Beatriz too. Both have combative, direct profiles, and their elements align with what Kassanje offers.
Beatriz didn't react, but a subtle tension in her shoulders revealed that she preferred another choice.
— Iza and Bo will go to the Promised Land Institute. Iza's intuition, her mental connection with the wind element, and Bo's untapped potential with the barbarian type make him perfect for advanced and experimental studies.
Iza smiled shyly. Bo scratched his beard excitedly.
Fernando paused.
— And John... you will choose.
Everyone looked at him.
— What do you mean? — John asked, surprised.
Fernando stood up.
— You are different. And after the last battle, everyone knows that. I trust your intuition. Whichever institute you choose, you will mark it with your presence. So the choice is yours.
John looked down, thinking. The silence was there, but it wasn't uncomfortable—it was filled with respect. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision settle on his shoulders, not like a burden… but like a growing flame in his chest.
Fernando shook his head slowly, his eyes lowered, as if carrying the weight of a decision he didn't want to make.
"For the Kassanje Institute," he began, his voice deep and firm, "a lord can only send two candidates. For the Promised Land Institute, up to three. That gives us a total of five places."
John frowned and asked, his tone calm but direct:
— And how will they be filled?
Fernando gave a bitter smile, his gaze fixed on John, but distant, as if he could see beyond that moment.
—Initially, I intended to send you and Alex to Kassanje, and the others to the Promised Land. But... I won't be able to follow that plan.
He paused briefly, taking a deep breath.
— Alex will go to Kassanje. Junior, you will go to the Promised Land.
Silence fell over the balcony as the others digested the news. Fernando then turned to the others:
— As for the others... you have freedom of choice. There is one place left for Kassanje and two for the Promised Land.
Iza looked up, hesitant for a moment, but soon stood up, her hands clenched at her sides. Her voice was timid, but full of conviction:
— My lord... I would like to go to the Promised Land.
Fernando arched an eyebrow in surprise.
— Are you sure? Kassanje would have more resources available to you.
She nodded, determined.
— Yes. I do. That's where I want to be.
Alex shifted uncomfortably in his chair. After a moment of hesitation, he also spoke up:
— My lord... if possible, I would also like to go to the Promised Land.
Fernando, however, shook his head definitively.
— Unfortunately, you and Junior will not have freedom of choice.
The words cut like a sentence. Alex clenched his fists discreetly, but held himself back.
Fernando then looked at Beatriz and Bo, who looked at each other with a tense expression. It was obvious: they both wanted Kassanje, and there was only one vacancy left.
They walked away a little, murmuring in private. The conversation was brief but intense. When they returned, Beatriz spoke, unable to hide her frustration:
— I will go to the Promised Land. Bo will go to Kassanje.
Her tone was controlled, but her gaze was heavy. Whatever they had decided between them, it was clear that Beatriz had given in.
Fernando crossed his arms.
— Is everyone in agreement?
Beatriz, Bo and Iza answered yes, almost in unison. Alex and John remained silent. The choice had already been made for them — and there was nothing to add.
Ferdinand reached out and took out five medals from a small box carved with ancient runes. They emanated a sacred energy, dense and powerful, as if they held the blessing of ages past. The metal was silver with gold veins, and the crest of House Venhorst gleamed in the evening light.
With solemnity, Fernando handed them over one by one, placing them in the hands of each young person. It was more than a symbol — it was the seal of a new destiny.
— These medals will be your identities. Don't lose them. There are no copies. Be careful — Fernando warned in a firm voice, holding the small metal pieces as if handing over a fragment of destiny.
The five young men received the medals with trembling hands and immediately activated their sonars. As they studied them, their expressions changed. An oppressive, intense, and unique aura emanated from them—more powerful even than that of Fernando or Felicia. It was as if each medal contained an ancient soul, pulsing with hidden intentions.
— Pay attention to what you do tomorrow — said Fernando, interrupting the heavy silence.
He unrolled two copies of the map of the Kingdom of Ngola on a black marble table. The ancient lines of the eighteen territories were marked with golden lines, interwoven with magical inscriptions that glowed faintly in the torchlight. The five young men approached in silent reverence, taking in every detail as Fernando pointed out with his finger.
"Here," he pointed to a secluded region beyond the jurisdiction of the eighteen territories. "This city is called Londa. You will leave the Venhorst territory and travel there. From Londa, you will continue on to the city of Kissala. Once in Kissala, you will contact the mayor. Show him your medals. He will lead you to the teleportation matrix… which will take you directly to the Promised Land."
He stared at them, eyes piercing.
— Do you understand?
— Yes — they answered in unison, in a restrained tone.
Then Fernando took the second map and handed it to Alex and Bo, both of them with more closed expressions.
"For you two, the path will be different. This"—he indicated a winding route on the map—"is the road to Kassanje. It is one of the most isolated cities in the kingdom. The teleportation array there is protected by a monastic order. Show your medals, maintain discipline."
He repeated the route several times, patiently, emphasizing each detail with precision. He described unsafe roads, turbulent rivers, dense forests and resting places. He also pointed out risk areas, abandoned ruins and areas of unstable spiritual presence.
— These cities are outside the Lords' jurisdiction. Do not expect help. You will be on your own. Be cautious.
— Yes — they all replied.
Fernando took a deep breath.
— Get ready. Say goodbye to your family. Tomorrow the journey begins.
One by one, the five young people walked away from the balcony, letting the sound of their own footsteps echo through the cold stone corridors. Only John, Catarina and Fernando remained.
For a few seconds, no one said anything. The night wind caressed the translucent linen curtain behind them.
— Mom... where 's Aunt? — John asked , his voice sounding more childish than he intended.
Catarina took a while to respond. Her eyes were lost in the twilight sky.
— She left yesterday. She said staying in one place for too long... is n't for her.
John looked down. Sadness was evident in his expression.
— She didn't say goodbye.
Fernando let out a deep laugh, almost nostalgic in tone.
— Your aunt never liked goodbyes.
— And where did she go?
— She said she would travel the continent... In search of fortune. And advancement. She believes the world will not wait for her, so she has decided not to wait for the world either.
John nodded, resigned.
"You better go and rest," Fernando said, placing his hand on his son's shoulder. "You leave tomorrow."
John walked in silence through the cold corridors of the castle, whose stone walls reflected a faint, golden light from the enchanted chandeliers. When he reached his room, he did not turn on the magic light. He sat on the bed and took the medal from his pocket. It seemed alive, pulsing with heat and magnetism between his fingers.
He lay down slowly, his gaze fixed on the stone ceiling decorated with carved stars. He took a deep breath, trying to silence the anxiety that was hammering in his chest.
But then...
A sharp chill ran down his spine.
His entire body trembled. And in an instant, everything went white.
Without any warning, without sound, without resistance, his soul was forcibly ripped out. As if an invisible hook had pulled it from the depths of his being. There was no time to react, not even to think.
Reality dissolved.
And the world disappeared.
A blazing sun hung high in the sky, as if it wanted to pierce the vault of the worlds. Below it, crystal-clear waters stretched out infinitely, without end, without shores. It was serene, silent, vast. John floated there, enveloped in light and absence—he was in his sea of the soul .
In the center of that liquid and vivid expanse, a crimson egg floated motionless on the waters, radiating heat and power. Inside the egg, a baby of ambiguous appearance lay, but from it emanated an ancient and mysterious aura, as dense as destiny itself.
It was then that a voice emerged.
— What is it? Why did you summon me?
Before him, an ethereal silhouette took shape. It was Oni , floating in the air, eyes fixed on John's. There was no threat on his face, but something more unsettling—a disturbing lucidity.
"You have changed," said the Oni , his voice echoing in many directions.
— I... changed ? — John frowned, confused.
"You will die if you continue to move to that side," the Oni stated with icy firmness.
"What do you mean by that?" John tried to keep his tone steady, but doubt trembled in his throat.
— Haven't you wondered how... and why... we came into this world? Well then. It's time. I 'll tell you .
—Really? — The surprise escaped before John could hide it.
— Yes. Let's talk about our past. And our future.
Oni approached, hovering so close that John felt a slight pressure in the air around him.
— John, this world... is not ours . We are here by accident. And if you forget that, if you let this place shape you completely... we will die.
A chill ran down John's spine. For the first time, he saw in the Oni something that had never been there before: absolute seriousness .
"I want to make a pact with you," Oni said solemnly.
— A pact? What kind of package? — John closed his eyes, trying to decipher it.
— Before we talk about the pact... let's test your sincerity. And your faith.
— What do you mean by that?
Oni didn't respond immediately. He just turned around.
— I'm going to take you somewhere. Follow me.
— Where to?
Without a word, Oni took cover in the air and flew towards the crimson egg. Its form gently dissolved upon touching the egg's surface, as if it was absorbed by it. A structured glow in pulsating hues.
"Come in," said Oni's voice, now reverberating from within the egg.
John hesitated, but his hand moved forward on its own. He touched the egg. He felt a vibration that went through his skin and settled into the bone. The world around him distorted, and as he stepped inside, everything changed .
For a moment, his vision blurred. Colors blurred. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears.
He blinked.
Again.
And again.
Badan. Badanp. Badanp.
John's heart raced. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
A strange feeling—familiar and impossible—hit him in the chest. And then, when his eyes cleared... he couldn't believe what he saw.
"Do you understand now?" Oni said , his voice coming from all the specifics.
John looked around, his breath catching in his throat.
— Are we back?
Author's Note So... what exactly changed in John? And where did Oni take him? I can only say one thing: they 're back , but not in the way you imagine.
If you're reading this far, it's because I felt it. This chapter wasn't just another one — it was the first step towards truths that not even John himself was ready to face .
Comment on what you think is coming next. Vote, share and, if you like it, remember: your opinions shape this universe. And, of course... thank you for the donations. You are the magic core that keeps this story alive.