Small Light

What began as ordinary training quickly turned into a relentless test of both body and mind. From sunrise until well after sunset, the students pushed themselves to exhaustion under the watchful eyes of their instructors. Bruises became a daily occurrence, aching muscles were ignored, and giving up was never an option. They all understood that if they wanted to stand against the strongest young mages they had to become stronger.

The first month humbled them. Yes they had good training, but that’s all it was– good training. They were never taught any critical thinking for a real battle.

On the very first day, Professor Thorne ordered the class to spar against academy instructors instead of fellow students. None of them lasted more than a few minutes. Ralf was knocked flat by a single strike before he could even raise his sword. Frey's fastest spells were effortlessly countered. Ari exhausted nearly all of her mana. Even Ki-rin, despite his incredible power, was reminded that overwhelming mana meant nothing without complete control.

"Power without discipline is just another weakness," Professor Thorne said as the students struggled to their feet.

Those words stayed with them for the rest of their training.

Ki-rin devoted himself to mastering control over his immense mana, learning to use his magic without losing mind. Instead of unleashing overwhelming attacks, he spent countless hours repeating the same simple techniques to try to refine his Water, Fire, Wind and Earth magic. Frustration nearly got the better of him more than once, but little by little his magic became quieter, smoother, and far more precise. Still after all the progression Ki-rin still doubts himself. One afternoon, after weeks of failure, he finally sliced cleanly through a falling leaf without disturbing the dozens drifting around it.

Professor Thorne allowed herself a small smile.

"Now you're learning."

Ralf refused to let defeat define him. Every morning he arrived before sunrise to swing his sword until his arms shook from exhaustion. Some evenings he collapsed before making it back to his room, only to return before everyone else the next day. His determination slowly transformed into discipline, and the reckless fighter who relied only on strength began learning patience, timing, and control.

Ari spent every spare moment refining her archery. During one particularly brutal training exercise, she managed to support her entire team with multiple combinations of her different affinities. By the end of the battle she could barely remain conscious, but seeing her friends walk away without serious injuries made every ounce of mana worth it.

Frey never lost her playful personality, even during the hardest days. She laughed whenever she lost a sparring match and teased everyone whenever they complained, but no one trained harder once practice began. Her water and fire magic became faster and more unpredictable with every passing week, until even the instructors admitted they were having trouble following her movements.

It happened during break, when Ki-rin and Ralf were standing near the edge of the training grounds. A group of students approached—five young men wearing the academy uniform with A-rank badges pinned to their chests.

The leader was a tall, broad-shouldered boy with blonde hair and a sneer on his face. Ki-rin recognized him from the entrance ceremony—Tyson Chambers, son of a wealthy merchant family. His magic power had tested at 78,000, just shy of S-rank.

“Well, well,” Tyson said loudly, making sure others could hear. “If it isn't a charity case. Tell me, how does it feel to steal spots that should've gone to real students?”

Ki-rin tensed, but Ralf put a hand on his shoulder. “Ignore them,” Ralf muttered.

“Oh, we're being ignored,” one of Tyson's friends said mockingly. “How rude. And here we were, just trying to be friendly.”

“Friendly?” Tyson laughed. “Why would we be friendly with slum rats? They probably can't even read. I bet the only reason they got S-rank is because the testing orb malfunctioned.”

“The orb didn't malfunction,” Ki-rin said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady. “We earned our ranks.”

“Earned?” Tyson stepped closer, his voice dripping with contempt. “You didn't earn anything. You got lucky. One fluke test result doesn't change what you are—worthless who don't belong here.”

“That's enough,” a new voice cuts in.

Ki-rin turned to see Lucian walking toward them, his expression cold. Behind him were Lyra, Frey, and Ari.

“This doesn't concern you, Lucian,” Tyson said, though his confidence wavered slightly.

“It concerns me when A-rank students harass my classmates,” Lucian replied, his tone icy. “Ki-rin and Ralf are S-rank. That makes them superior to you in every measurable way. I suggest you remember that.”

Tyson's face flushed red. “Superior? They're from the slums! They're—”

“They're more powerful than you,” Lyra interrupted, stepping up beside Lucian. “Which must be embarrassing for you, considering your family spent a fortune on private tutors and you still didn’t break 80,000.”

Lucian cracked his knuckles. “You want to test whether the orb malfunctioned? We could arrange a sparring match. I'm sure Ki-rin would be happy to demonstrate his abilities.”

Tyson looked around and realized he was surrounded by S-rank students, all of them watching him with varying degrees of hostility. His friends had already started backing away.

“This isn't over,” Tyson muttered, but he turned and walked away, his group following.

Once they were gone, Lucian turned to Ki-rin and Ralf. “Don't let idiots like that get to you. They're jealous because they know they'll never reach S-rank, no matter how much money their families throw at the problem.”

“Thank you,” Ki-rin said, genuinely surprised. “You didn't have to do that.”

Lucian shrugged. “We're classmates. Besides, we have sparred many times. Anyone who thinks you don't belong here is a fool." He paused, then added with a slight smile, "Though I still intend to beat you in the tournament.”

Ki-rin couldn't help but smile back. “I look forward to it.”

As the group dispersed, Ralf nudged Ki-rin. "See? Not all nobles are bad."

“I never thought they were,” Ki-rin replied. “Just... most of them.”

Ralf laughed.

The incident wasn't quite over, though. Later that afternoon, during a complex training exercise, meant to exercise different speeds of attacks and counter attacks. Ki-rin noticed one of the boys that was with Tyson earlier—a boy named Victor—lurking near the equipment area, while walking towards the training space. But he did not think anything of it until it was his turn. When it was Ki-rin's turn to use the enchanted training dummy.

The dummy activated at full power, It moved with blinding speed, its wooden limbs striking with enough force to break bones. Ki-rin barely managed to dodge the first attack, his instincts screaming danger.

“Ki-rin!” Ralf shouted from the sidelines.

But Ki-rin was already moving, his sword flashing as he parried a strike that would have caved in his skull. The dummy pressed the attack, relentless and brutal. Ki-rin channeled fire magic into his blade and struck back, but the dummy absorbed the damage.

He switched tactics, using wind magic to create distance, then earth magic to trap the dummy's legs. But it broke free instantly, adapting to his strategies.

This thing is set to kill, Ki-rin realized with a cold shock.

He heard Professor Thorne shouting something, but the dummy was already launching another attack. Ki-rin made a split-second decision. A really bad decision. He forced his magic out, as much as he could. As quick as the two swords appeared the quicker it vanished.

Light, and Dark magic swirled together in a flash of chaotic maelstrom. The dummy on impact exploded in a shower of splinters before anyone could blink.

The explosion blew Ki-rin back a bit. He didn't fully channel the spell, he didn't even realize he was doing it. It just came to him naturally. But the explosion left him with some burns and bruises.

Silence fell over the training grounds.

Ki-rin, in the center of the arena, breathing hard.

“Who tampered with this equipment?” Professor Thorne demanded, her voice cutting through the shocked silence.

Ralf saw someone slipping away toward the academy buildings. He started to point, but Ari was faster.

“It was Victor Crane,” she said clearly, stepping forward.

Frey nodded. “He has been trying to hide this whole training session, but he has been watching us.”

Professor Thorne's expression turned thunderous. “Someone fetch Victor Crane immediately. He will answer for this.”

“Are you alright?” Ari asked, her voice tight with concern. She reached out as if to check him for injuries, then seemed to catch herself and pulled back.

“I'm fine, just some minor cuts.” Ki-rin said, though his hands were shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “and just... surprised.”

“That was attempted murder,” Ralf said bluntly.

“And you destroyed it within a blink of an eye,” Lyra added, her eyes wide. “I've never seen anything like that.”

Ravina was staring at Ki-rin with a mixture of respect and something that might have been awe.

Ki-rin didn't know what to say. He looked around at the S-rank students—these nobles who had every reason to resent him—and saw only concern and solidarity.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “All of you.”

As the second month began, training shifted from individual strength to teamwork. Difficult exercise deep within the academy's training forest that everything finally clicked. Surrounded by summoned beasts and cut off from their instructors, the four of them had no choice but to depend on one another. Ralf held the front line while Ari reinforced his defenses. Frey's water magic created openings from a distance, allowing Ki-rin to finish each enemy before it could recover. By the time the final beast fell, they weren't celebrating because they had won.

They were smiling because they had finally fought as one.

That night they gathered around a small campfire, sharing a simple meal beneath the stars. Their bodies ached, their uniforms were torn, and none of them had the energy to speak much. Frey eventually broke the silence by joking that Ralf looked uglier every time he got punched. The camp erupted in laughter, and for the first time in weeks, training didn't feel like a burden.

It felt like they had become a family.

By the third month, the instructors stopped treating them like students.

The once-pristine training grounds were now covered in shattered stone, scorched earth, and deep craters left behind by powerful spells. The same students who had struggled to survive a simple sparring match now fought summoned monsters, endured survival exercises, and challenged veteran mages without hesitation.

The greatest change, however, couldn't be measured by magic or swordsmanship.

It was written in the confidence they carried.

Earlier they had arrived as talented but inexperienced students chasing a dream. Now they stood shoulder to shoulder as trusted companions, each prepared to risk everything for the others.

As they gathered at the academy gates on the morning of their departure, Professor Thorne looked over her students one last time before speaking.

They simply exchanged determined smiles before stepping onto the road that would lead them to the Ironstar Tournament.

None of them knew that the battles waiting ahead would change their lives forever.