45th of Season of Fire, 57th year of the 32nd cycle

Obsidian was waiting for his young teammate. He didn't want to admit it, but he was excited. He had heard of geniuses who reached the second or even the third realm before hitting twenty. He had even seen some of them, and Roselilly was close to that category, but he never expected he would have one on his team.

He spotted Newt from across the training field, the young man returning an excited gaze, as eager to fight as Obsidian was. However, there was something odd. Beads of sweat rolled down Newt's forehead, and his eyes were odd, out of focus.

"You all right?" Obsidian asked. The duel had not even started, but Newt seemed dazed, his hand moving towards his heart. He seemed to have trouble breathing.

"Yeah, I'm a bit dizzy. It's hot—" The words died. An inferno burst out of Newt, enveloping them both. Obsidian blinked, summoning his defense instinctively. During that blink, the youth standing before him had collapsed.

"El!" Newt's master screamed. Even before the fire reached Obsidian, she appeared between them, a blast of fire smashing into her like a wave against a rock.

Chunks of charcoal fell off Newstar's body, which burned brighter than the sun. The training ground's resident healed appeared, wrapping the injured youth in a sphere of water, and Obsidian breathed the breath that got caught in his throat.

Whatever accident Newt had suffered, he would be fine. A sixth realm—

A bubble weaved through the water. It hit the surface, and the sphere turned garnet, blood and charred flesh swirling as the water boiled.

"Get Master," the healing elder grunted, and Lady Alabaster vanished.

"Help!" the healer screamed, sweat streaming down his forehead, blood crawling out of his nostrils.

Obsidian took a step back and fell on his butt when two others appeared. He did not know the champions, but the one with white hair sticking upwards like a brush punched his hand into the ball of boiling water, raising the other up, grasping for the sky.

A jet of flame a hundred feet tall exploded above the training field, its volcanic heat engulfing the entire yard. Obsidian was certain he was dead, then the world blurred, and he stood two hundred yards away from the field, at the edge of a confused crowd.

Another giant flame burst towards the heavens, then another. In a matter of moments, four titanic torches painted the world crimson.

"What in the heaven's name is going on?" someone muttered.

Obsidian had no idea. He just hoped Newt was still alive.

***

Newstar was excited. Alabaster could feel it with every step he took. His heart rate, his breathing, and the flow of his energy were all speeding up steadily ever since they had walked out of the vault with the glaive.

Hotheads and their emotions, she thought fondly.

Fire-wielding awakened were known for their element influencing them when they were extraordinarily excited, but for some reason, Newstar's body temperature kept climbing as he went to meet his friend.

Alabaster focused her mindcore, noticing something strange. The sun's radiance, which should have bathed all the world equally, invisibly, somehow seemed to have become a spotlight. It abandoned the rest of the world and focused on her ward. The change was subtle enough for her to doubt her senses. She could have been wrong. Strange.

The boys were talking, and the energy in her ward suddenly surged by a hundredfold. She moved, standing between them, trying to snatch Newstar away, but he burst into flames before she grabbed him.

"El!" she shouted, shielding the other youth with her body.

What in heaven's name is happening? Newstar registered as a fourth, no, fifth realm in her eyes.

Elmshade rushed over, trapping Newstar in the healing cocoon powerful enough to keep a dying fifth-realmer alive indefinitely, but the blaze got stronger. Whatever was happening to Newstar would burst the bubble. El knew it too.

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"Get Master."

Those two words snapped Alabaster out of her daze. She sprinted two steps, then surrounded herself in mana and flew faster than a gale, smashing through trees as she plowed through the forest, straight for the Chamber of Healing.

Why isn't an airhead running messages?

She got to ask herself that question before punching through the outer wall of the healing chaplain's private room. Alabaster didn't get to say a word; the red sky behind her back was all the healing chaplain needed to know. Lady Monsoon disappeared, Alabaster registering her at the edge of her perception before she completely left her sphere of awareness. Double air and water affinity meant she was probably already healing Newstar.

Alabaster stared at the flaming sky. The energy had already grown from sixth to eighth realm. She rushed back, helpless.

If it keeps growing—

The fire disappeared, the blazing beacon of energy swallowed completely as it reached the ninth realm. Alabaster landed in the middle of the training yard, met with something she had not seen in ages.

All the chaplains had gathered, and Exalt himself hugged her ward, shielding him from the sun with his own body. A pale beam turned brighter and brighter, as all the sun's energy landed on their leader's back.

The alchemy and disciplinary chaplains, along with Lord Char, another eighth realm champion, redirected the portion of the heat. The air above quivered, popping and whining from the heat.

Alabaster couldn't hear a thing over the screech, but a lot of mental communication must have been going on.

Lady Monsoon had covered herself and her patient in a shield of water, keeping Newstar alive. Champions wielding fire-attributed mana moved to make a complex shape, the two ninth realmers, drawing more sunfire, the single eighth and three sevens reducing their load, and the five sixes further reducing what those before them were drawing.

Alabaster realized Chaplain Longfang must have been coordinating their effort, but despite their toil, Exalt's robe started smoking. Columns of flame rose, and for the first time in her life, Alabaster saw mighty eighth realm champions sweating.

The sun reached its peak, and the searing column of white light consumed the world, the sheer weight of mana blasting her back. With her eyes blind, Alabaster saw something impossible. The energy of the earth flowed into her ward, it was nowhere nearly as powerful as the sun's or even the water energy struggling to preserve his life, but the boy had an umbilical of earth energy reinforcing his body, struggling to keep him whole while Lady Monsoon bled from her orifices, her healing techniques repairing damage as she suffered it.

Then, noon passed. The beam grew weaker; the champions stopped drawing the fiery mana from the order's gatemaster and their leader, and color returned to the world.

The scene was devastating. The mighty champions and chaplains who had to remain close looked like beggars, their clothes ruined or completely gone, their skins covered in black flakes. A moment later, their bodies returned to normal, mana moved, dancing and weaving around their bodies to make them decent, but somehow a single youth drove them into such a miserable state.

The training yard and all its seals were gone. Overloaded and wiped out of existence.

"Repair this mess as soon as possible," Exalt said, his voice and bearing relaxed and calm, a world away from what Alabaster was feeling. Lightning danced and formed a bluish-white robe to cover his nudity. His robe was a ninth-realm artifact, and it was gone, destroyed in the moment when the load grew too unbearable for him to mind his clothes.

Alabaster stared in awe as he turned towards the disciplinary chaplain.

"Dreadwalker, nobody outside the order's core is to learn of what happened today. If any outsider asks, we were trying to forge a superior sunspear, but ultimately failed as the spell seal grew unstable." He turned towards the forging and scribing chaplains. "I apologize for saying this mess is your fault. This is a matter of order interests, I hope you don't resent me."

The two fifth realm artisans shook their heads. Longfang opened his mouth, but shut it when Exalt turned towards Alabaster and spoke.

"I wish to know everything about this boy. Follow me to my abode." Exalt turned around and walked at exactly the speed of Alabaster's dignified pace. He could have made her sprint, but didn't infringe on her dignity; he could have walked at her relaxed gait, but decided to show respectful urgency.

"Describe the boy in five words." Exalt asked once they left the chaos of the former training field.

The man moved at what must have been a snail's pace for him, but he still seemed cheerful and relaxed.

"Shy, prodigy, under-educated, inquisitive, obedient." Alabaster hesitated slightly about the final adjective, but Newstar did obey, when he understood the whole context, and after the previous incident he obeyed everything she said.

Exalt remained quiet, leading the way through the jungle, and a minute later they reached a small but comfortable cottage with a wide, covered porch.

"Sit," the man gestured at a humble chair next to a round wooden table. "Do you want any refreshments?"

"No, thank you, my Lord." Alabaster wanted to be next to her ward and see how he was doing, but that would have to wait.

"He will live." Exalt sat across the table from her. "Fire and earth energy surged into his body, reinforcing it like heaven's wrath might an ascending sixth-realmer, but this whole situation is strange. He stopped drawing the fire-attributed mana mere minutes after the sun reached its peak, while the sunflames were at their strongest exactly at noon."

The blue-eyed man tapped the table with his nail. The gesture could have obliterated eighth realm awakened, let alone a common wooden table, but he controlled his strength so perfectly it resulted in nothing but a sharp beat. "Is he cursed? Explain his background."

"He hails from a declined slayer clan. An acquaintance from the Everfrost Order recommended him and told me I would owe her a favor once I saw how talented he was…"

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