Fuegoleon’s laughter rolled across the ruins like thunder, golden flas roaring to life around him. His mana swelled so violently that the air itself shimred, rippling like molten glass. The recruits watching from the periter stumbled back, choking on the heat and pressure.
"This," Fuegoleon declared, voice booming, "is the strength a captain must wield! If you can stand against this, then there is no doubt... you already walk among us!"
His grimoire spun, glowing brighter than the morning sun. Lions of dawnfire burst from its pages in an endless pride, their roars shaking the earth, each one a spell strong enough to level fortresses. They circled him, fla-made beasts ready to tear the heavens apart.
Dave’s silver eyes narrowed, calm even beneath the crushing pressure. His grimoire pulsed once—whummm—and the battlefield changed.
Silver light poured outward, a shimring tide that reshaped itself into orbiting constructs. Dozens beca hundreds—shields interlocking into walls, spears forming constellations, spheres condensing into cannons of force. The sky itself seed to glitter, as though Dave had plucked the stars and bent them into weapons.
Gasps echoed from the recruits."He’s... he’s building an army—by himself!""Impossible. That’s... that’s not rookie magic..."
Fuegoleon bared his teeth in a fierce grin. "Good! Show more! Do not insult by holding back!"
The lions lunged as one, a storm of burning maws.
Dave raised his hand. With a flick, his constellation moved.
A rain of silver spears fell like teors, each one detonating on impact with a lion, shattering fla into cascades of sparks. Shields folded in, cannons fired beams of compressed mana that tore gaps in the fiery pride. It was no longer a boy against a captain—it was two armies clashing in the sky.
BOOOOOOOM!KRAAAAASH!
The Vermillion gardens were obliterated—stone paths ripped apart, fountains shattered into dust, ancient trees incinerated in seconds.
Fuegoleon surged through his own flas, fists blazing brighter than the lions themselves. He crashed straight into the heart of Dave’s silver storm, scattering spears like reeds. His punch landed—
CRAAAACK!
—but slamd against a barrier of pure silver force. The impact shook the air, a shockwave ripping outward and flattening what little of the garden still stood.
Dave didn’t budge. His calm gaze t Fuegoleon’s burning eyes.
"You burn too brightly," Dave said evenly. "If you were not in control, this city would already be gone."
Fuegoleon’s grin widened, sweat and ash streaking his face. "And you—! You fight like a man who knows his own strength would kill without chains."
His flas surged higher, climbing into the sky until it seed the sun itself had descended. For the first ti, Dave’s expression shifted—just slightly. His silver constellation tightened, all weapons folding inward toward his palm, condensing into a single construct.
A spear of absolute silver, humming with so much force that the ground beneath him sank, cracked, and collapsed into a crater.
The two stood poised at opposite ends of the ruined battlefield.
One man-shaped sun.One silver star.
And the recruits watching knew: this was no spar anymore. This was captain against captain—only one of them wasn’t supposed to be a captain at all.
The air itself seed to stop breathing. The flas no longer crackled, the silver no longer humd—both powers compressed into silence so dense it pressed against the lungs of everyone watching.
Then—
FWOOOOOOOSH!
Fuegoleon moved first, his sunfire spear thrust forward, a cot of living fla that tore through the battlefield like a falling star. The lions roared in unison, their bodies folding into the strike, a thousand maws compressed into one annihilating blaze.
Dave answered with stillness. He lifted his arm and released the silver spear.
No arc, no hesitation—just a perfect, straight line of force. The world cracked in its path, reality itself shrieking against the pressure of its passage.
The two spears collided.
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
The impact was apocalyptic. Light swallowed the ruins, brighter than noon, hotter than a forge. A shockwave rippled outward, tearing up the gardens, snapping stone walls like twigs, and sending the recruits flying backwards as if struck by giants’ hands.
For a mont, it was impossible to tell whose magic was stronger. Fire devoured silver, silver sliced fire. The clash roared into the sky, forming a cyclone of gold and argent, spiraling upward until even the clouds split apart above the capital.
Fuegoleon roared, his body outlined by blazing wings of fla. "MAGNIFICENT!"
Dave’s eyes narrowed, silver light flickering like galaxies behind his pupils. "This will tear the kingdom apart."
The realization hit Fuegoleon mid-attack. His grin faltered—not from fear, but from clarity. He wrenched his arm back, flas vanishing into his grimoire with a whipcrack. The golden lions dissolved into sparks.
At the sa ti, Dave’s silver spear folded in on itself, the condensed power collapsing back into his orbiting constellation, which dimd and faded until only a faint glow lingered around him.
The battlefield exhaled. Silence crashed down heavier than the explosion had been.
Fuegoleon stood tall, chest heaving, sweat dripping, eyes burning with pride. He threw back his head and laughed, the sound ragged but genuine.
"Enough! Any further and we would have leveled the Vermillion estate—and perhaps the capital itself!" His gaze locked onto Dave, fierce and unyielding. "You... are no re recruit. Your magic, your control... they rival, no, exceed that of many captains. If you continue on this path—"
He raised one blazing hand, not in threat, but in acknowledgnt.
"—you will surpass us all."
The recruits stared in stunned silence, unable to process what they had witnessed. Whispers finally broke through the still air:
"He stopped Fuegoleon...""No captain has ever been forced back like that—by anyone outside the captains’ circle...""...Is he really... just a rookie?"
Dave closed his grimoire, his calm gaze steady, voice level."It was an good battle, I enjoyed it"
Fuegoleon’s flas dimd until only a faint golden aura lingered, like embers clinging stubbornly to wood. His chest rose and fell with asured breaths, but his eyes—sharp, unyielding—stayed fixed on Dave.
"...Good battle, you say?" Fuegoleon’s voice carried both amusent and solemn weight. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, then let out a short, rough laugh. "That was more than a battle, boy. That was a clash worthy of a battlefield between generals."
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