Debris, Defiance, and First Glances
He'd noticed the anomaly just seconds before impact. 'Still not good enough.'
It was too late. Considering his level, he should have sensed it sooner. He'd been chatting with Seria, after all—a brief lapse in focus during that split second. But that wasn't an excuse. He needed to perceive everything, even while multitasking. He'd have to work harder. Only then could he survive this brutal world of ability users.
Today, too, Abel reflected on himself as he focused on Physical Enhancement.
Ku-gu-gu!
A few chunks of rubble crashed down right where Abel and Seria stood. If he'd been alone, he could have dodged easily. But Seria was with him. Forcing a move might lead to something worse. So Abel chose to shield her with his own body.
A massive boulder slammed into his back. A heavy shock rippled through his entire frame. But Abel didn't flinch. If she asked if it hurt, he'd say—of course it did. Physical Enhancement didn't numb the pain; it just made him tougher. Sensations remained sharp.
So why not show even a hint of it? Because in battle, vulnerability emboldened enemies—they'd press harder, drunk on confidence. But if he showed no reaction to any attack or injury? They'd falter, momentum shattered.
"Ah, Abel!"
"Don't move, Miss Seria."
"But…"
"Stay still. It's fine."
He meant it. Right now, staying put was the best help she could give. One wrong twitch, and she might get clipped by debris. After all his effort to block it, an injury would make it all for nothing. And if she moved and broke his focus, his enhancement might weaken. He considered himself sturdy, but not invincible. A mistake could hurt him badly too.
The roar faded, and the thick dust began to settle. With no more impacts on his back, Abel slowly straightened up.
"Seems safe now. Miss Seria, are you hurt anywhere?"
"Ah, no, Abel. I'm fine. You're the one who…"
"No need to worry. I used Physical Enhancement, and my body's always been pretty tough."
He'd thought that sometimes. Maybe his real talents were endurance and survival instinct. Even with enhancement, a boulder to the back was terrifying. Yet he'd endured. No major damage seemed to linger. Enhancement helped, sure, but it felt like something more.
"Don't do that next time, Abel."
"Miss Seria?"
"I'm an ability user too. I can't keep relying on help forever…"
Protecting her at the risk of his own safety must have shaken her deeply.
"Then later. When you've grown stronger than now, come help me."
"…"
"Don't worry about when or if. Don't even think it. That's why everyone's here at the academy—to make it possible."
Everyone started out lost. But eventually, they'd find their path. Just like he had. He hoped Seria would too, soon becoming a promising ability user admired by all.
'More importantly… the culprits should be showing up any second.'
Scanning around, sure enough. Two male students were rushing over from ahead. One with red hair, the other blue. That alone gave it away.
"Hey! You okay… Wait. You, aren't you…?"
"Abel Rothschild, right? The guy we met at the front gate last time."
"Nice to meet you properly. Flam Phoenix. Portus Sparrow."
Seeing them painted the picture instantly. Their power measurement tie for second place had gone unresolved. Before that, the professor had interrupted. So they'd settled on a spar in the training grounds to decide a winner.
"But they ended up wrecking the innocent training hall wall."
"Wasn't me. That arsonist didn't control his power."
"You water punk kept provoking me! Don't act all innocent!"
Full-grown men bickering like kids—it was childish. Annoyingly so, but hard to intervene. Rival elements clashing was tradition as old as time. Especially fire and water. Even gods couldn't stop light versus darkness.
For Flam and Portus, it was compounded by their fathers' rivalry. The powerhouses had clashed several times without a clear victor. Now, with massive followings, another fight risked war. Naturally, eyes turned to the sons. And with them enrolling together…
"Technically, I broke the wall you couldn't, so I win, right?"
"Wrecking the academy and bragging about it. Classic arsonist. Oh, now you're a demolisher too. Congrats, arson-demolisher."
"You bastard!"
Flam's temper was explosive, as expected. Portus doused it with snark. Right on cue. Exactly as anticipated. Sure, they were exhausting day-to-day, but they shone when it counted. And facing strong foes together? Pure catharsis.
"Hey, you two!"
Pink hair suddenly wedged between the three men.
"Apologize properly to Abel!!"
She glared at Flam and Portus, her voice sharp and unyielding. Her ferocity stunned them into silence, halting their spat.
"Wha—huuh?"
"You telling us…"
"Would you say that to yourselves or to Abel?! How can you act like that when someone almost got seriously hurt? No matter how great your fathers are, this is wrong! You should apologize for what you did first!"
Abel was just as surprised. He'd never seen Seria this angry. And honestly, he wasn't hurt. A bruise later, maybe, but not an injury. Real wounds bled or broke.
"Why are you just standing there gawking?! If you can't apologize, forget it!"
"N-no, that wasn't our intent…"
"…"
Flam waved his hands frantically in denial. Portus blinked at her in shock. Both were floored—this was uncharted territory. Their backgrounds and talents had silenced peers and adults alike. Minor incidents were just honing opportunities; no one complained. Few dared confront them anyway. Phoenix and Sparrow followers spanned the continent. Speak out, and you might face them all.
"I know how amazing your fathers are. So you shouldn't tarnish their reputations!"
Seria's voice rose. From behind, Abel caught it—a flicker of flames blooming and vanishing beside her. Fleeting, but sharper and hotter than during training.
"…"
"…"
The silent duo moved in sync. Seria flinched but stood firm, unyielding. As they approached, they bowed slowly.
"Sorry. I didn't check if anyone was nearby."
"My apologies. We went too far. Should've held back for safety. My mistake."
They bowed to Abel first, then to Seria in front of him.
"Sorry again. Wasn't trying to act untouchable. Just lost control."
"Apologies once more, lady. Not leaning on my father's name to run wild."
Surprising. Weren't these guys prideful? As Abel marveled inwardly, Seria stepped back and turned away.
"Abel. If you accept the apology, so will I."
"…Well, no malice, no real harm. We can forgive a mistake once."
Not some half-assed 'four-letter' sorry—genuine. For their houses, bowing was proof enough.
"Let's go, Abel. Better check the infirmary, just in case."
"Huh? No, I'm really fine. Besides, we should get back to training…"
"Come on! What if something's wrong later?!"
Her resolve was ironclad. Abel shelved training plans. Regrettable, but her worry wasn't wrong. Better safe.
Seria turned and exited the training grounds. Abel followed. Then a weird vibe hit; he paused, glancing back at Flam and Portus.
"…"
"…"
They stared intently. At first, he thought it was him. No—Seria, walking ahead.
'What the hell. Why that look in their eyes?'
He checked again. And again. No doubt.
First love.
But that was odd. Kalligo already filled that slot, right? One first-love awakening was enough.
…Something was off.