The Iron fang Clan's arena pulsed with the gathered cultivator's energy, its stone pit still steaming from my clash with Taryn frost bear. I stood panting at the pit's edge, my lightning-laced ember coil scales glowing faintly, my tier three blazing tempest strike and hidden dragon palm having secured a hard-fought victory. The crowd's roars echoed, my second win in the inner clan tournament marking me as a contender for the top four, as I ascended from the pit, Torren pushed through the crowd, his gray-blue Storm fang fur bristling, slit pupils gleaming with excitement. His storm claw barrage had bested Veyra in his own match, and his grin flashed fangs as he clapped my shoulder.
"You burned through Taryn like a wildfire," Torren said, his enhanced hearing catching the fading cheers. "That blazing tempest strike—it's a real beast now."
My scales crackled, a tired smile breaking through. "Your storm claw barrage wasn't exactly soft against Veyra. We're both climbing the ranks." We found a quiet corner of the stands, the stone seats warm from the day's heat, the air thick. Torren leaned back, "Your skills hit tier level three, didn't they? I saw the power in that vortex. How'd you pull it off so soon!?"
I recounted my morning grind against the Ironclad tortoise, the realization that repetition forged strength, and the tier two upgrade of my sacred breath technique.
"It's boosting everything," I said, tasting the air's electric tang with my ember coil senses.
"Keep using your storm claw barrage, and it'll hit tier three too." Torren's claws twitched, his Storm fang senses catching a distant rumble of the continent's pulse. "I've been practicing, but not like that. Maybe we can hit the canyons again, grind some beasts." He paused, his slit pupils narrowing. "Kael's still out there, hunting cultivators. We need to be ready."
I nodded, my scales sparking. The tempest harmony stance was useless in the 1v1 tournament, but it advanced our individual growth—my fire and lightning, with Torren's storm and speed—made us a force. "Top four gets us resources," I said. "Elixirs, maybe rare fruits. Enough to face Kael."
In our post-match discussion, I saw an opportunity to strengthen Torren's cultivation level. "Your storm claw barrage is close to tier three," I said, my scales sparking.
"But your qi flow needs to be stronger. The sacred breath technique can fix that—it's what made my qi flow stronger."
Torren's fangs flashed in a grin, his enhanced hearing catching the sincerity in my voice. "Teach me, then. I want that edge." We moved to a secluded training yard; its stone ring etched with claw marks. Under the late day sun, I knelt in front of Torren to an Indian sitting position, explaining the sacred breath technique. "It's about learning the sacred rhythm and concentrating on certain Chakra points." I said, my voice steady.
"Breathe in the continent's essence, let it flow through your naval and heart Chakra before focusing your intent on your Manipura chakra and exhaling. This will increase your qi flow into a torrent."
I demonstrated the best I could, allowing Torren to inspect me with his spiritual senses, my chest rising slowly, lightning-laced scales glowing as qi surged through my Chakra paths. My tier two mastery of the breathing skill evident.
Torren mimicked me, his fur bristling as he inhaled, his Storm fang senses tasting the air's ozone tang.
His first attempts were shaky, his qi stuttering, but I guided him. "Focus on your intent on your Chakra points as you breath, not your claws. Let the storm inside you settle."
Hours passed into the early evening time, the training yard's stone still warm from the sun. Torren's breaths deepened, his qi stabilizing as he grasped the technique's rhythm.
By mid-evening, a spark of progress hit—his fur glowed bright with full moon energy as Torren reached the sacred breath technique tier one! I could feel his aura expand his storm claw barrage technique surged, his attacks now capable of hitting with a force nearing 600 kilograms!
"It's working," Torren said, panting, his yellow eyes wide. "My qi flow smoother, and stronger! I feel like I can keep slashing forever." My scales flared and I gave him a proud nod. "Keep practicing. It'll push your beast crystal closer to the next tier."
Torren tested his upgraded storm claw barrage, slashing at a training dummy, icy full moon energy carving deep gashes. The sacred breath technique sustained his stamina, his strikes faster, more precise. I watched, my ember coil senses analyzing Torren's form, noting how the technique amplified his speed.
"You'll crush your next match," I said. Torren grinned, claws twitching. "Thanks to you." Torren Yawned and stretched "Ahhhhh, it's been a long day, time to call it friend! I'll catch you tomorrow Ash!"
And with that we both parted ways for the second night of the tournament. The Next morning me and Torren met up outside at the clan hall. "Yo Ash, over here!" Torren waved at me from across the way, but my ember coil sense of taste and already detected his musky wolf scent from down the pathway.
We headed toward the tournament boards, the stronghold buzzing with warriors. The sacred breath technique had fortified Torren's cultivation, our bonds—fire and ice—stronger together.
The Iron fang Clan stronghold thrummed with activity, its black stone paths alive with warriors converging on the arena as early morning unfolded. We reached the tournament boards, a towering stone slab etched with glowing runes, surrounded by warriors muttering bets and strategies.
I tasted the air with my ember coil senses, while Torren's enhanced hearing caught snippets of praise for our victories, whispered by female clan members—Mine over Taryn, and Torren over Veyra. The board listed the second day's matches, the runes shifting as results updated.
I scanned for my name, finding: "Ash Cross vs. Lira Razorwing, round 3." Lira, the Razorwing Hawk-bonded warrior, was a speed demon with her Gale Talon Strike, a challenge for my mobility technique.
Torren found his matchup: "Torren Storm fang vs. Myra Flame crest, round 4."
Myra's Flame crest Salamander bond promised fiery durability, testing Torren's icy Storm claw Barrage. "Lira's fast," I said, my scales sparking as I recalled her match against Gavern. "Her wind strikes could counter my blazing tempest strike."
Torren's fangs flashed, his senses catching the crowd's excitement. "Myra's tough, like your tortoise grind. I'll need my sacred breath just to keep up the pressure" Torren said.
We exchanged a nod; our fire and ice bonds united in purpose. "We've got this," Torren said, claws twitching. "Top four, then we hunt Kael." We lingered by the boards, watching runes update with recent results: Kaelin's Wind strike had advanced, defeating another bison-bonded warrior, and a Soren Shadow claw, had won with his panther-like agility.
The tournament was narrowing, the competition fiercer. My qi thrummed, my tier three skills ready for Lira's speed. Torren's fur glowed, his tier one sacred breath technique stabilizing his qi for Myra's fiery onslaught.
The Iron fang Clan's arena thrummed with the Beast Vein Continent's pulse, its stone pit scarred from battles, the stands packed with warriors roaring as the inner clan tournament continued. Lira Razorwing awaited, her Razorwing Hawk bond promising a battle of speed and precision.
I stepped into the pit, Lira, lean and wiry, faced me, her feathers shimmering with wind qi, her eyes sharp with focus. She bowed, her movements were fluid, and I returned the gesture, my scales sparking. Her bond with the Razorwing Hawk radiated speed, precision, and danger. She stood lean and poised, feathers shimmering with wind qi, her eyes razor-sharp. "Try not to get clipped too early, Ember coil," she said with a smirk. "I don't like easy wins."
"Then you'll love me" I replied, my scales sparking with anticipation. The gong rang. I launched with cloud step, a blur of qi-laced momentum circling Lira! My sacred breath technique held my core steady. I struck with hidden dragon palm, a gusting wind blast crackling with electricity, aimed center-mass. Lira twisted mid-air, her gale talon strike flaring—kicks like scything wind blades slicing past my attack.
"Too slow, Ash," she called, flipping over me. You'll have to do better than Taryns brute style."
The crowd roared as I double-jumped, glyphs glowing beneath my feet—the falling feather sigil—intent guiding my leap. I came down with a blazing tempest strike, the vortex roaring with fire and crackling with lightning. Lira dodged again, feathers shielding her from the worst of the heat. She landed with impossible grace.
"Fast," I muttered. "Annoyingly so." She winked. "You noticed. Thats Cute." She pressed in, her gale talon strike chaining—blades of air spinning from her kicks!
I dashed and weaved through the onslaught, but one kick made contact with my shoulder. Her Wind essence qi stung deep. I retaliated with a second blazing tempest strike, a series of punches and kicks, the vortex tearing up the pit's edge!
Lira met it with a sky rend palm! A concussive gust colliding with my flames—qi and sparks spiraled high into the air. The crowd rose as the pit trembled beneath our clash. I pivoted, air-dashing upward, climbing high with a second double-jump. I fired a hidden dragon palm, a windblast enhanced with electric bite—targeting her legs.
"You can't win this, Lira. Give up." She staggered, feathers flaring with static.
"Give up?" she shouted, spinning into another gale talon strike. "This is me holding back!"
Her whirlwind knocked me off-axis mid-air—I recovered with a burst-dash, my scales pulsing hot. I came in hard with a blazing tempest strike, angling low toward her flank.
The vortex clipped her—scorching feathers and kicking up grit—but her reflexes saved her from a direct hit. She landed on one knee, hurling a sky rend palm to force me back. "You're strong, Ash," she said through clenched teeth. But I've flown through storm fronts nastier than you."
"Yeah?" I growled, circling again. "Then let's see if you can weather me at full force." The pit blazed, fire and wind vying for dominance, as we charged once more into the storm. Lira's speed peaked, her gale talon strikes a relentless barrage—kicks and wind blades blurring into a stormfront of motion. "Getting tired yet, Ember coil?" she called, voice riding the howl of her strikes. I gritted my teeth, as I pushed the mobility technique to its edge. My double jumps and air-dashes twisted me through the gaps, each movement precise, fueled by sacred breath technique.
A wind blade nicked my arm—stinging but not slowing me.
I dropped low, sliding on a burst of chi, and unleashed a sharp chain:
Hidden dragon palm—stun shot—
Blazing tempest strike—point-blank!
She gasped as the palm blast jolted her stance, staggering her just enough for my vortex to strike her flank. Flames licked her feathers, sparks dancing across her silhouette.
"You call that holding back?" I smirked, stepping in, my scales glowing. "Looks more like struggling." Lira hissed, spinning away with a burst of wind. "You talk too much."
I smiled, "Only when I'm winning."
She vanished using wind step! I barely caught the rush of displaced air before she reappeared behind me! Her sky rend palm surged forward—compressed wind, sharp and screaming. I twisted, redirecting with a palm parry, but the force blasted me sideways! I skidded across the arena stones, my qi flared, steadying me. "Fine," I muttered, wiping a smear of blood from my lip.
"Time to stop dancing." I planted my stance. Sacred breath technique bloomed through my limbs. I surged forward, every coil of muscle and qi locked into one thought—overwhelm her.
A feint left, air-dash right, a chain combo:
Hidden dragon palm—to the chest—cloud step dash cancel—behind her—
Blazing Tempest Strike—from the rear, full ignition!
She barely turned in time—feather-scales flaring bright—caught in the tail of the blast. The explosion rocked the pit, fire and wind colliding in a roar that shook the arena walls. The crowd gasped. Lira staggered, coughing up blood, one knee down, her wind qi frayed.
But she wasn't done.
She stood, feather-scales smoldering, one eye narrowed with sharp defiance. "You think this is the end?" she growled. "I haven't even gotten started!"
I stepped forward, breathing light thanks to the sacred breath technique. "Then maybe it's time you did." She flared her qi, wings of wind exploding behind her—an avian aura forming around her like a razor-edged storm. I felt it in my Ember coil spirit stir and speak—' ' she's going all in.' '
"A final exchange?" I asked.
"Only if you can survive it," she said, voice like thunder on the edge of rain.
We launched—one last clash, fire and wind screaming toward each other. My breath burned in my lungs, qi surging wild and volatile. My ember coil scales blazed with fire and storm claw raptor lightning—more than heat, more than speed. A storm incarnate.
I charged.
My tier three blazing tempest strike ignited with a roar. I double-jumped mid-launch, momentum spiking the vortex's spiral into a blazing cyclone of elemental fury.
The pit trembled.
Lira met me with her ultimate—Sky Rend Cascade—a flurry of wind blasts, sharp and staggered like talons striking from all sides.
"Fall!" she shouted, her voice cutting the air.
I didn't.
Cloud step technique carried me between the blasts, my qi dancing, weaving through chaos. I twisted low and struck—hidden dragon palm straight to her chest. Electricity crackled on impact.
The jolt hit home. She gasped, staggering back—feathers shuddering, wind aura guttering like a candle in a storm. "Got you," I breathed.
No hesitation. I spun. Flames surged behind me.
My final Blazing tempest strike roared out—at full-force; an 850-kilogram vortex slamming into her flank. The blast hit like thunder.
Lira flew backward, skidding, rolling, her aura breaking apart into flickers and sparks. She landed outside the ring, prone and panting, wings of qi reduced to tattered threads.
For a heartbeat, the pit was silent.
Then—
The crowd erupted.
Dust swirled around me. I lowered my stance, shoulders heaving, heat rolling off my skin like smoke from a forge.
Lira stood slowly from outside the ring, pride unbroken. "You're fierce, Ember coil," she said, eyes locking with mine, no trace of bitterness—only respect. "Guess I won't have to worry about Soren shadow anymore."
I smirked. "Don't worry, he doesn't stand a chance."
We bowed to each other; warriors forged in wind and flame. Cheers thundered from every direction—students, clan warriors, merchants, even rival elders—all rising to their feet in awe. "Ember coil! Ember coil!" the chant caught fire, rippling through the crowd like lightning across storm clouds.
I stood still for a moment, breathless, my qi slowly cooling from the inferno it had become. My scales dimmed from blazing crimson to a soft ember glow, smoke curling from my shoulders. Lira stepped back into the ring, still breathing hard, and gave me a subtle nod. I returned it.
Above us, the platform of the judges remained still—until the central elder rose. Elder Vash, wreathed in ceremonial earth and stone qi, his voice a calm quake over the uproar.
"Let it be known," he called, his voice amplified through qi resonance, "that Ashriel Cross of the Ember coil bond has defeated Lira Razor wing in open combat."
The crowd surged louder. "He now stands among the top four eligible candidates for the singular position to represent our clan in the 1000 clan gathering."
My heartbeat once, hard. The winner from the top four would represent the clan at the great gathering. I bowed deeply toward the elder platform, then turned to the crowd and raised my fist. The reaction surged again—chants mixing with roars, with children tossing paper flags into the air. Below, I saw familiar faces—Taryn, arms crossed and smirking. Rykar, grim and silent, jaw tight. And further back, Soren shadow panther, watching me with narrowed eyes and a knowing smile.
"Enjoy your glory, Ash," Lira murmured as she passed me, her voice soft. "You've earned it. But they'll all be watching now."
"I know," I said, more to myself than her. "Good. Let them." The storm inside me hadn't calmed. If anything, it was only just beginning.
My beast crystals thrummed closer to a fourth-tier evolution. Torren cheered from the stands, his Storm fang fur bristling with pride.
Torren awaited me near the stands, his gray-blue Storm fang fur bristling, his tier three storm claw barrage and new tier one sacred breath technique ready for his match against Myra.
Torren clasped my hand, his slit pupils gleaming. "You made Lira look slow," he said, fangs flashing. "That blazing tempest strike is deadly." Torren said.
My scales sparkled, a grin breaking through, "It's your turn to shine, Torren. Myra's tough, but your speed's got her beat." As we spoke, Myra approached, her flame crest salamander bond radiating heat, her skin shimmering with fiery scales. Her eyes locked on Torren, a smirk curling her lips. "Storm fang, huh? Hope you don't fizzle out when my flames hit," she purred, her tone catty, her posture provocative as she leaned closer.
Torren's fur bristled, his claws twitching, but I gripped his shoulder, my ember coil senses catching the taunt's intent. "She's trying to rattle you," I whispered. "Don't fall for it.
Focus on your sacred breath and pound her hard." Torren nodded, his slit pupils narrowing, his Storm fang senses steadying. "Got it. Let's see her burn out first." Myra smirked and sauntered off, her fiery aura trailing heat. Torren shot forward, storm fang speed igniting as they entered the ring.
They shared a mutual bow than the Gong was struck. He circled Myra like a wolf testing a flame. His tier one sacred breath technique kept his qi strong and smooth as he opened with a storm claw barrage—rapid slashes of chi-enhanced claws, icy wind trailing each arc.
Myra didn't flinch. Her Salamander Skin reflex activated flames rippling across her scales, absorbing the cold edge of the strikes. Each claw left only steam and sparks.
"You hit like a snowflake," she said, her smirk as fiery as her aura. Torren growled, vanishing into a sidestep as she retaliated.
"Salamander Burst!"
A sphere of fire qi detonated from her palm, searing the pit's floor in a wide blast. Torren's instincts flared—his storm fang senses reading the heat current like a map. He leapt cleanly above the arc of flames, landing light, his fur haloed by the residual heat.
I watched from the crowd, arms crossed, scales sparking in rhythm. "She's fierce." Below, Torren narrowed his eyes, circling again. "Nice trick, but now I'm pissed" he called, claws flexing. Myra rolled her shoulders, flames coiling tighter. "Bring it, fuzzball. I've grilled tougher meat than you." Myra surged forward, heat bleeding from her steps, Salamander magma intensifying with every strike. Fiery blasts erupted around her in a wide, punishing arc—less precision, more controlled chaos.
Torren didn't falter. He wove through the flames, storm claw barrage carving tight, calculated lines through fire. His claws slashed at her aura, icy qi trailing behind—cold against heat, precise against pressure.
One claw sliced across her arm, chilling her scales with frostbite's kiss. She didn't flinch. Her Salamander Skin pulsed—flame retaliating with a burst of resistance, dulling the damage. "That all you've got?" she said, baring her teeth. "I burn hotter than your whole bloodline."
Torren's eyes narrowed, ears flicking back. "Guess I'll have to claw deeper."
Myra slammed forward—"Flame crest Slam!"
A heavy, two-fisted strike, trailing molten heat like a falling meteor. Torren spun, but her fist grazed his ribs. Fire licked his side, scorching fur and forcing a grunt from his throat. He rolled back, breath steady thanks to Sacred Breath Technique, but the heat had rattled his rhythm.
In the stands, I watched, his eyes locked on the tempo. My fists clenched as Myra advanced. "Keep moving, Torren," I muttered. "She'll cook you if you pause."
Back in the pit, Myra pressed the tempo—qi flaring wild, flame casting long shadows across the cracked stone. Torren shifted lower into a crouch, claws gleaming with icy qi.
"You like the heat?" he growled. "Let's see how you handle the storm."
Their auras surged again, fire and frost spiraling as they collided once more—neither yielding an inch.
Torren dropped low, eyes narrowing, ears twitching to the rhythm of Myra's breath.
"She's starting to overheat," he muttered under his breath, his claws flexing. "Time to turn the flame back on her."
He lunged upward—his movement sharp and sudden, borrowing inspiration from Ash's aerial mobility skill. Chi surged through his limbs as he vaulted high above the pit.
Then—
Storm claw Barrage.
His claws carved the air in a flurry of icy arcs, each strike trailing concentrated wind-frost chi. He came down in a spiral—aimed low.
The barrage slammed into Myra's legs with brutal precision.
Her stance faltered.
Her fiery aura flickered.
"Getting cold feet?" Torren barked mid-assault. Myra snarled, planting her palms.
"Flame crest Slam!"
She slammed the ground with both fists—flames erupted outward in a furious ring, the pit cracking beneath her. Torren twisted mid-air, narrowly dodging the inferno. The heat kissed his heels, but he was already gone—his speed carrying him past the blast zone. The crowd roared louder, the entire arena lit in red and blue streaks.
Then he struck again—full-force. Storm claw Barrage, Tier three.
This time, his claws connected with fury—600 kilograms of concentrated qi impacted.
Cracks webbed across Myra's scales.
Her breath hitched.
"Still standing?" he asked, landing with claws extended. "Respect." Myra swayed slightly, lips curling into a grin even as smoke rose from her back. "If I wanted a kiss I would have called you honey." The arena shook, the continent's resonance amplifying every blow.
I leaned forward in the stands, my scales flashing with rainbow hues, "He adapted fast," I muttered. "Smart. He's not just fast—he's learning." The crowd was on its feet, shouting, roaring, swept into the eye of the storm and the heart of the flame. Below, both fighters panted, but neither backed down. Their auras flared again—one blazing, the other howling. Myra roared, planting her feet. Her salamander skin thickened, glowing like molten iron. Flames surged along her arms, her aura burning brighter than ever.
Then—
"Salamander Magma Rush!"
She unleashed a hailstorm of fiery punches, relentless, rhythmic, each one crackling with explosive qi! Torren gritted his teeth; speed pushed to the edge. He weaved through the onslaught, storm claw barrage answering each strike with icy full moon counters—claws slashing in high-speed arcs.
But the barrage pressed on. One fiery fist grazed his chest—heat seared across his ribs, fur curling from the burn.
He hissed, sliding back, claws digging into the scorched stone for balance. But his breath stayed calm. His Sacred Breath Technique flowed like mountain wind—clean, smooth, controlled.
He exhaled once—sharp—and struck again.
A rapid flurry of storm claw strikes—his claws targeting the fractures in her scales, precise as a surgeon, vicious as a beast. Each impact shimmered with cold qi, draining her flame, dulling her heat.
Myra flinched, her aura sputtering with every blow.
From the stands, I watched with arms folded, my ember coil senses dialed in to the energy pulsing through the pit. "He's wearing her down," I murmured, a spark trailing across my shoulders. "Timing, precision... he's past just reacting now." I leaned forward slightly; eyes locked on Torren. "Good. You'll need that sharpness when it's me in the pit."
Down below, Myra dropped to one knee, panting, her flames guttering like a dying torch—but her eyes still burned with fire. Torren stood across from her, chest rising and falling, claws flickering with frost. Neither had much left in the tank. But neither was done.
The crowd sensed it—the final moment looming like a thunderhead on the horizon. One more exchange. One final storm. Torren crouched low, breath shallow, his fur stirring with pale, storm lit chi. The air around him shimmered—thin arcs of lightning danced between his claws. He'd pushed past the edge. He leapt—high, cutting a clean arc into the sky. Wind howled beneath him.
"Storm claw cascade!" Torren shouted. His claws became a whirlwind of icy devastation, each strike blurring into the next, momentum-enhanced by the height of his launch. A storm given form. Below, Myra growled, summoning one last surge—''Salamander burst!
Flames exploded upward, a column of molten heat roaring to consume him. But Torren's storm-born instincts flared. He saw it coming—felt the shift in pressure, the hitch in her aura—and twisted through the fire with blinding speed. The flames missed by inches.
He came down hard, claws flashing like hail on steel. Another Storm claw Barrage, faster, colder, sharper—slashes broke through what remained of her aura. The final strike hit dead center—chest impact—600 kilograms of frost-laced force.
Myra staggered, she skidded across the scorched stone. Her flames dimmed. She caught herself on one hand, trembling. The fire around her flickered once… then faded. Slowly, she raised her hand. "I yield," she said, voice hoarse, her breath shallow. Silence held for one heartbeat. Then the arena erupted.
"Storm fang! Storm fang!"
I stood in the stands, chin raised, expression unreadable—but a faint spark danced across my cheek.
"Storm fang's no joke," Myra muttered, pushing herself upright. Her usual grin was gone, replaced by something quieter. "You're colder than I thought." Torren let out a sharp breath and offered her a hand. "You burn hotter than anyone I've fought."
She took it.
Respect earned, not given.
The elder rose.
His robes of earth woven silk caught the wind, ancient runes glowing faintly along his sleeves. Silence fell across the arena like a falling veil—thousands quiet in an instant.
Elder Vash's voice rang out, deep and resonant, carried by qi amplification: "Let it be recorded. Torren of the Storm fang Line has triumphed over Myra flame crest in formal clan combat."
The crowd roared to life again—a rolling wave of approval that echoed through the pit walls and beyond. "With this victory, he claims a place among the top four, and will represent our clan in the Interclan Tournament of Flames." Torren exhaled slowly, eyes steady. He didn't gloat, didn't raise his claws. He simply bowed—first to the elder, then to the pit, then finally to Myra.
She gave him a nod, rubbing her ribs, bruised but proud.
The crowd's cheers faded as another match from the second arena pit concluded, Kaelin's Wind strike Falcon had secured another win.
The Iron fang Clan's arena grew quiet as the third day of the inner clan tournament drew to a close, the stone pit scarred from battles, its stands emptying under the twilight sky of the Beast Vein Continent.
I and Torren stood near the arena's edge, their chi thrumming from their Round 3 victories—Ash over Lira Razorwing, Torren over Myra flame crest. I and Torren faced each other, our bonds—fire and ice—pulsing with shared resolve. We raised our fists in a salute, a warrior's gesture born of our shared trials in the Storm temple and the canyons.
"You tore through Myra like a wolf pack," I said, my scales sparking, a grin breaking through. Torren's fangs flashed, his slit pupils gleaming. "And you outwitted Lira's speed. Top four's ours if we keep this up."
We clasped hands, the continent's pulse echoing our determination. "Rest well," Torren said, his fur glowing faintly. "Tomorrow's matches won't be easy."
I nodded, my ember coil senses tasting the air, it was crisp and tasted of the flowers of the field.
"You too. Stay sharp for Kael." We parted, the stronghold's black stone paths guiding them to our homes. I headed toward my hut on the stronghold's edge, while Torren veered toward his family's residents, his steps light despite the day's battles.
I reached my hut and pressed my palm to the qi-infused rune, my scales sparking as the door unlocked with a soft hum. Once inside I disrobed and heated water with my ember coil flame qi and bathed in the small basin, the hot water rinsing the ache out of my body.
Torren, in his family's quarters, likely did the same. Our victories had strengthened our beast crystals, edging us toward fourth-tier evolutions, but the tournament's final rounds loomed, promising fiercer opponents—Kaelin and Soren.