The collision was not quiet.
The first impact shook the entire chamber like a bell. Fire and silver light smashed together with such violence that the stone floor cracked, flas clawing up the walls, silver spears exploding in arcs of compressed force. The air itself seed to scream—windows shattered, wooden beams groaned, parchnt caught alight and disintegrated in an instant.
BOOOOOM!
The blast punched through the reinforced oak doors, tearing them off their hinges. A fiery shockwave rolled down the corridor, scattering aides and recruits who had gathered, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Captain Fuegoleon—?!"
"What’s happening in there—?"
Before anyone could move, another explosion thundered, this one far sharper—silver mana tearing upward through the roof. Stone split apart as glowing cracks raced across the ceiling.
Fuegoleon’s voice cut through the chaos, carried by the roar of his flas:
"Out here, boy—don’t let the walls cage us!"
He surged upward, his lion-shaped inferno battering a hole clean through the chamber ceiling. Dave’s silver storm followed without hesitation, spears whirling around him as he ascended like a rising cot.
The two burst into the open air, fire and silver colliding above the training gardens of the Vermillion estate. The clear morning sky was instantly drowned in heat-haze and blinding radiance.
From below, recruits spilled out, shading their eyes. "That’s... that’s Captain Fuegoleon—fighting a recruit?!"
But this was no practice match.
Fuegoleon’s lion roared, its mane flowing like molten rivers as it dove toward Dave, jaws wide. Dave answered by clenching his fist—his thirty spears folded into one colossal construct, a silver halberd of pure mana, its edge gleaming with unbearable intensity.
They clashed.
The lion’s jaw snapped shut—
CRRRAAASH!
The halberd carved straight through, splitting the fiery beast in two. The sky itself seed to tear open as flas and silver shards exploded outward in a halo that rattled the city below. Birds scattered in every direction, and the mana pressure pressed the watching recruits flat against the ground.
Fuegoleon did not falter. His eyes burned hotter than his flas. With a motion like tearing open the heavens, he drew on his grimoire, summoning an array of lions, each smaller but faster, weaving through the air like a pride of hunters.
Dave responded in kind. His grimoire spun wildly, pages glowing as dozens of silver constructs ford—not just spears this ti. Blades, shields, even intricate latticework barriers all at once, orbiting him like a war-forged constellation.
The garden beca the battlefield of gods.
Lions lunged, shields intercepted, spears shot out, blades whirled. Each collision resounded with a deafening BOOM that shook the manor walls, fountains bursting into spray, stone statues cracking and toppling.
Fuegoleon closed distance through the storm, fists blazing with condensed fire, striking as though each blow were a sun. Dave t him strike for strike, silver barriers shattering, reforming, his constructs flowing like a tide that never ended.
For an instant, they locked eyes—Fuegoleon with his predator’s fla, Dave with his calm, unbending silver.
Then both unleashed.
The captain summoned a colossal lion of dawnfire, its mane stretching across the entire sky like a burning horizon. Dave lifted his grimoire, and with one quiet breath, released his gathered power. His silver constellation folded inward—spheres collapsing into a single spear so bright it looked like a falling star.
The two forces t in the heavens.
The explosion was apocalyptic.
A sphere of fire and silver engulfed the entire garden, the shockwave tearing up earth and stone, ripping trees from their roots, even toppling part of the estate wall. Recruits scread, shielding their eyes from the unbearable radiance. The mana pressure left them gasping, as though the very air had been stolen.
When the light finally began to fade, the sky was a tapestry of ash and shimring dust.
Fuegoleon stood at one end of the torn battlefield, flas still curling around his body, his coat scorched and torn. His eyes glead, not with hostility, but with deep, fierce satisfaction.
Opposite him, Dave floated steady, untouched save for a faint scorch on his sleeve. His silver grimoire glowed faintly, quiet once more, as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
The garden lay in ruins between them.
And from the distance—other captains were already on their way. The titanic clash had shaken the very heart of the Magic Knights’ outpost, and no one could ignore it.
Fuegoleon broke the silence first, his voice resonating like iron on steel:
"...So it’s true. You carry power on par with captains."
His eyes narrowed, fire surging once more. "But to what extent!"
He thrust his arm forward, and a massive spiral of fla erupted, twisting like a fiery tornado that tore across the ruined garden toward Dave. The ground cracked beneath its pressure, fountains boiled dry, and walls scorched black as the spiral expanded, swallowing everything in its path.
Dave’s silver eyes sharpened. His grimoire snapped open, its glow intensifying until it pulsed like a heartbeat. With a flick of his hand, dozens of silver constructs condensed—shields layering over each other, spears locked into a lattice, forming a massive silver drill of force that countered the spiral head-on.
BOOOOOOM!
The two spirals collided midair, one of fla and one of silver, each twisting against the other like two titans wrestling for dominance. Sparks and shards of burning mana flew outward in every direction, raining down over the shattered gardens.
Fuegoleon roared, his mana surging higher, flas bending around his body until he resembled a man-shaped sun. "This is not yet my full asure!"
Dave didn’t roar. He simply pressed two fingers forward, his expression cold, precise. The silver drill surged, splitting into five separate spears that wove through the spiral like lightning threads—piercing through Fuegoleon’s attack and racing directly toward him.
The captain’s eyes widened just a fraction. In an instant, his flas coalesced into a blazing lion-shaped shield that roared as it intercepted. The silver spears clashed against it, each blow ringing out like steel striking steel, sparks scattering in showers of silver and gold.
But one spear slipped through—brushing just past Fuegoleon’s cheek. A faint cut marked his skin, glowing faintly before the heat cauterized it instantly.
Fuegoleon touched the mark, then let out a deep laugh, his flas surging higher.
"Excellent...! You force to climb higher still!"
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