The locker room door creaked open, and the servant in a white tunic entered, holding a tablet.

"Rian Cole!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the boys. "Get ready, your fight is next!"

Charles jumped to his feet, feeling a twinge in his stomach. He looked at Kaira, who was still seated on the bench, wearing a confident smile.

"Well, here I go," Charles said, scratching the back of his neck. "I'll see you later, I guess."

Kaira stood up too, surprising him.

"I'll come with you," she said casually, adjusting her black tunic. Her red eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and determination.

Charles raised an eyebrow, tilting his head.

"What, are you coming into the ring with me?" he asked, teasing. "Because I don't think the referee is in the mood for a tag team match."

Kaira let out a short laugh, crossing her arms.

"Relax, I won't get in your way," she said in a playful tone. "I just want to give you a few tips before you go up. I won't break any protocol, right?" she added, glancing at the servant, who seemed about to protest.

The servant opened his mouth, frowning, but Kaira's calm gaze made him hesitate.

"Uh... fine," he murmured, scratching the back of his neck. "But don't take too long. The arena's ready, and the crowd's waiting."

Charles shrugged, smiling.

"Alright then," he said, following the servant down the hallway.

Kaira walked beside him with confident steps, while the distant sound of thunder echoed outside.

CRACK!

The sound made Charles glance toward a window, where the rain pounded against the glass.

Kaira glanced at him sideways, noticing the nervous expression on his face.

"You look like it's your first fight in the arena," she said, her tone a mix of teasing and curiosity. "Is that true? Never fought in front of a crowd before?"

Charles sighed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his tunic.

"Kind of," he said, shrugging. "I've had some fights, but not on a stage like this. It's... different."

Kaira nodded as if she understood.

"Well, listen to me then," she said, lowering her voice as they walked down the stone hallway lit by crystal lamps. "First off, do you use any weapons? A knife, a sword, anything?"

Charles shook his head, surprised by the question.

"No," he said, with a crooked smile. "Just my hands and my... fire, you know."

Kaira blinked, clearly surprised.

"No weapons?" she exclaimed, stopping for a moment. She let out a long sigh, rubbing her forehead. "Wow, Rian, you really are something else."

Kaira resumed walking, shaking her head.

"Alright, pay attention. When you get to the arena, you can ask for a weapon if you change your mind. They've got everything: swords, spears, bows. Just say what you need. And another thing..."

Kaira paused, glancing toward the windows.

"Since it's raining, you can ask the air controllers not to block the rain in the arena. If you want, of course."

Charles raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

"Let the arena get wet?" Charles asked, leaning toward her. "Why?"

Kaira smiled, a glint of complicity in her eyes.

"Because water can be useful," she said. "Water controllers need a humid environment to use their powers to the fullest. And even if you don't use water, a wet arena could make things harder for your opponent, especially if they control air. Wind doesn't have much control on slippery ground."

Charles nodded, impressed.

"That's... a good idea," he said, smiling. "Thanks. I hadn't thought of that."

Kaira shrugged, letting out a soft laugh.

"No problem," she said. "Just make sure you don't embarrass yourself up there. I don't want them saying I gave you bad advice."

Before Charles could respond, they reached the platform leading to the arena.

The roar of the crowd was louder now, mingling with the sound of rain hitting the temple roof.

The announcer, a man with a booming voice amplified by a microphone, began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" he shouted, causing the crowd to roar. "From the distant lands of Valthar, an Air Master who has perfected his art over fifteen years in the Zephyr cliffs! Please welcome Darion Veth!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, some chanting Darion's name.

Charles felt a knot in his stomach, but kept a neutral expression.

He looked at Kaira, who had stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading to the arena.

"This is where I stay," she said, leaning back against the wall. She waved him off with a gesture, smiling. "Good luck, Rian. Don't disappoint me."

Charles returned the smile, though he could feel the nerves welling up inside him.

"Don't worry," he said, with a confident tone. "I'll put on a good show."

Charles climbed the stairs, feeling the weight of each step.

The light from the arena temporarily blinded him, and the roar of the crowd engulfed him like a wave.

The announcer, an older man in a bright blue tunic, was standing in the center of the arena, holding a card in his hand.

Seeing Charles, he frowned, muttering to himself.

"A boy?" he said, scratching his chin. "They gave me the wrong card, I thought this was a girl…"

The announcer shook his head and raised the microphone.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, Darion's opponent! A name that's been making waves in the Storm Clan… Rian Cole!"

The announcer's assistant had just handed him the card he'd been told to throw away.

'What's he doing here?' thought the assistant, confused, but also relieved that she hadn't followed the exact instructions.

The crowd murmured, clearly confused.

The announcer continued, reading the card in a tone that shifted from surprise to disbelief.

"A Cole who until recently was a servant of the clan! He ascended to Aspirant when it was suspected he had powers, awakened his ability, and reached the Novice rank in record time! With nothing but sheer fighting, he defeated everyone in his path and was promoted to Warrior just days ago! A meteoric rise, but he faces a massive challenge against a Master!"

The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, mixed with cries of surprise and a few timid claps.

"A servant?" someone whispered from the stands.

"A Cole was a servant?"

"He just awakened his powers?"

"Why are they putting him up against a Master?"

Some of the more enthusiastic spectators began chanting:

"Rian! Rian!"

But others seemed doubtful, wondering if this was a trick or an arrogant act by the Coles.

Charles ignored the murmurs, walking toward the referee, a robust man in a gray tunic standing at the center of the arena.

The rain was falling heavily outside, but the Warriors who controlled the air kept the arena dry, forming an invisible barrier above the stage.

Charles approached the referee, bowing slightly.

"Hey," he said casually. "I want the rain to soak the arena. I like fighting in wet areas."

The referee raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

"Are you sure?" he asked, crossing his arms. "The rain can make the ground slippery. It could be a disadvantage."

Charles smiled, shrugging.

"I'm sure," he said. "I trust my abilities."

The referee sighed but nodded.

"Alright…" he said, raising his hand to signal.

The Warriors at the edges of the arena stopped their gestures, and the rain began to fall on the stage, soaking the stone floor in seconds.

The crowd murmured, surprised by the decision.

Charles turned his head toward his opponent, Darion Veth, who was across the arena.

He was a tall man, around thirty, with short brown hair, dressed in a light gray tunic.

His green eyes gleamed with amusement, and a low laugh escaped his lips as he looked at Charles.

"I can't believe it…" Darion said, shaking his head. "A freshly promoted Warrior? And an ex-servant?" He laughed louder, placing his hands on his hips. "This is going to be easier than I thought."

Charles frowned, but didn't respond.

'Laugh all you want while you can,' Charles thought, clenching his fists.

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