The next morning, the air in the Ignivar training hall was unusually still and quiet, charged with a palpable tension.
It was the designated hour for Azael’s elental awakening ceremony.
The ceremony was private. Only a few people were present. Duchess Aeliana, seated regally on a cushioned bench observing the proceedings; two elderly, stern-looking knight and mage whose roles were strictly observational; and, centrally, Arista, who would serve as the guide and conduit for the awakening.
Azael stood barefoot in the center of the hall, wearing simple white cotton clothes. He had circulated his mana constantly since finding the cure, ensuring his internal pathways were open and clear for the process.
Arista stood directly opposite him. She wore her standard training attire. A tight sports bra and leggings. But this ti, her expression was intensely focused, devoid of any teasing or playfulness.
Her hands were extended, palms facing Azael, a faint reddish-gold light already starting to glow around her fingertips.
"Listen closely, Azael," Arista commanded, her voice low and serious. "The elent resides in your spirit, tied to the blood of our ancestors. The ceremony simply opens the door. I will channel a small, controlled flow of my Fire affinity. The Phoenix Fire into your mana core. This resonance will push your core to identify and manifest your own elent. It can be anything."
She emphasized the gravity of the mont. "You must not fight the energy. Accept it completely. If you feel pain, let it flow. The mont you feel a surge of pure energy erupt from your center, breathe it out."
Azael nodded, his violet eyes fixed on her. He had read enough about elental awakening to know the process was delicate and often painful, but failure was not an option.
Aeliana leaned forward slightly from her bench, her attention solely on her stepson.
Arista took a deep breath, and the reddish-gold light on her palms intensified, licking upward like miniature flas. This was the famous Phoenix Fire—pure, regenerative, and incredibly difficult to harness.
"Ready, little brother?"
"Yeah. I’m ready."
Arista slowly brought her hands forward until her fingertips were barely touching Azael’s chest, directly over his dantian, the location of his mana core.
The instant the energies connected, a shockwave of heat slamd into Azael’s chest.
He gasped, his muscles locking up. Arista’s Phoenix Fire was not rely hot; it felt like a concentrated infusion of pure, burning life. It surged past his skin and plunged directly into his black mana core.
The core, stable and inert until now, reacted violently. The raw energy of the Phoenix Fire began to grind against the structure of Azael’s own dormant elental affinity.
A searing internal pain blossod in his gut. It felt as if his entire internal system was being twisted and refined by liquid lava. Sweat instantly slicked his brow.
"Hold steady!" Arista grunted, her own face taut with concentration. She was maintaining a perfect, steady stream. Not too much to destroy him, not too little to fail.
Azael rembered Ethan’s training. Pain was rely a sensation. He focused on the energy, not the agony. He visualized the elental power in his core struggling. A dark, raw energy trying to find its voice against the bright, powerful guidance of the Phoenix Fire.
’Don’t fight it, Azael... Accept it.’
He released his control, allowing the searing pain to wash over him, letting the Fire energy penetrate every corner of his being.
Then there was a sudden, glorious break.
The pain vanished, replaced by a monuntal surge of energy. A force so pure and powerful it felt like his heart had been replaced by a newborn star. This was his elent.
It wasn’t red or orange like standard fire. It was a fierce, crystalline red-gold, burning with a light that seed to heal as much as it consud. It felt ancient and benevolent, yet terrifyingly potent.
"NOW!" Arista roared.
Azael obeyed, throwing his head back and releasing a massive, uncontrolled breath.
A blinding pillar of red-gold fla erupted from his mouth and chest, rocketing upward. The energy was so concentrated it didn’t scorch the stone ceiling; it simply ionized the air, leaving a shimring column of heat that slled faintly of ozone and roses.
The two knight and mage sprang back in astonishnt. Aeliana rose instantly from her seat, her cold facade shattered by a look of sheer, breathtaking shock and awe.
Arista pulled back, her hands slightly scorched, but her eyes wide with triumphant disbelief.
Azael stood there, breathing heavily, the remnants of the white-gold power wrapping around his hands like spiritual gloves.
His mana core had stabilized, and he could feel the Phoenix Fire. The exact, incredibly rare Phoenix Fire. Circulating through his veins, stronger and purer, similar to Arista’s own.
Arista slowly approached him, reaching out to touch his shoulder.
"Azael," she whispered, her voice husky. "The color... the power... you didn’t just awaken Fire. You awakened the Ignivar’s Phoenix Fire, pure and unadulterated. You are one of the strongest elental talents in this family after ." A wide grin appeared on her face.
Aeliana walked over, her red eyes burning with emotion, a mix of pride, relief, and wonder. She stared at the subtle red-gold shimr still clinging to his skin.
"A true blessing. Our family didn’t get one, but two users of this fire... this is the first ti in the history of our family," Aeliana murmured, reaching out and gently touching his damp cheek. It was a gesture of genuine, unguarded affection that made Azael feel a brief, unexpected warmth.
His eyes did draw to her assets, but he composed himself.
Then Azael simply smiled, the sheer rush of elental power making his entire body thrum. He had achieved the elent of the Phoenix. The first step to true power was complete.
Azael has successfully awakened the incredibly rare Phoenix Fire elent. His path to power is now accelerated, and the Ignivar family has witnessed his amazing potential.
’With this I can get more stronger. All I need to do is train hard.’ Azael thought while clenching his fist.
Reviews
All reviews (0)