The field didn't stay empty for long.
Bran had barely crossed the first stretch of broken terrain when the air shifted—subtle, deliberate, wrong in a way that instinct caught before thought did.
Movement.
He slowed without stopping, his stride loosening just enough to throw off rhythm. His eyes stayed forward, but his awareness spread outward, mapping the rocks, the dips, the blind angles.
Nothing obvious.
Which meant—
They were good.
His wrist pulsed.
[Energy: 95]
Dropping.
He angled toward a jagged outcrop ahead, not for cover, but to cut off one side of approach.
The moment he stepped into its shadow—
The attack came.
A figure burst from the right, blade already mid-swing—but this time, it wasn't just steel.
A faint glow traced along the edge.
Wind.
Compressed.
Sharp.
The strike cut faster than it should have.
Bran twisted back on instinct. The blade missed his core—but the wind riding it didn't.
It sliced across his side like an invisible extension.
Pain flared.
Sharper than before.
"…Tch—!"
The attacker didn't pause. He stepped in immediately, pivoting his wrist.
The air around his blade twisted again.
A second strike came—
Faster.
Cleaner.
Bran raised his arm, deflecting the blade just enough—
But the wind force behind it slammed into him anyway, knocking him off balance.
This wasn't just training.
This was a core user.
Bran's eyes locked onto him properly now.
A boy. Lean. Controlled. Focused.
A faint current of air coiled subtly around his movements—not visible unless you were looking for it.
Wind affinity.
"…Give it," the boy said, calm, measured.
Bran steadied himself, breath tightening.
"Your energy."
Bran exhaled slowly.
"…Yeah. No."
The boy moved.
This time—
Faster than before.
The wind surged around his legs as he stepped in, closing distance almost instantly.
Bran barely reacted in time.
The blade came from below—
He dodged—
Too slow.
The wind extension clipped his shoulder.
Pain bit deeper.
His mind flickered—Ignis. Ventus. Something. Anything.
He tried to form it.
The boy was already attacking again.
No gap.
No time.
If he focused—
He'd die before it formed.
Bran stepped back again.
The boy followed immediately.
No hesitation.
No wasted motion.
"You're not trained," the boy said, already adjusting his angle.
Not mockery.
Recognition.
Bran's jaw tightened.
He was right.
And if this continued—
He'd lose.
Fast.
The wind gathered again around the blade.
The boy lunged.
Bran didn't block.
He moved forward.
The blade passed dangerously close, the wind slicing fabric as Bran forced himself inside the range, slamming his shoulder into the boy's chest.
The rhythm broke.
Barely.
The boy staggered half a step—
Then reacted instantly.
His free hand snapped up—
A burst of compressed air slammed into Bran's chest.
Bran was thrown back.
He hit the ground hard, air knocked from his lungs.
[Energy: 92]
Dropping faster now.
"…Damn it…"
The boy didn't rush.
He walked forward this time.
Controlled.
The wind around him tightening.
"You're wasting energy," he said calmly. "End it."
Bran pushed himself up.
His body hurt.
His breathing was uneven.
His movements slower.
He couldn't win this clean.
So—
He stopped trying.
The boy moved again.
Bran stepped back.
Deliberately.
Leading.
The boy followed.
Of course he did.
Predators didn't hesitate.
Bran's foot hit uneven ground.
He stumbled—
The boy lunged.
Wind surged.
Certain.
Bran dropped.
Not dodging—
Falling.
The blade passed over him.
His hand slammed into the dirt—
Kicking loose dust and stone upward.
The boy flinched—
Just slightly.
Enough.
Bran surged forward from the ground, driving his fist into the boy's midsection.
The impact landed.
Messy.
Real.
The boy staggered—
But didn't fall.
He tried to pull back—
To create distance—
Bran didn't let him.
He grabbed the wrist.
Twisted.
Forced the blade off-line.
The wind flickered—
Unstable at this range.
Bran drove forward again.
Knee.
Elbow.
Weight.
No form.
No technique.
Just pressure.
The boy tried to release another burst—
Too close.
It dispersed.
Bran tackled him.
They hit the ground hard.
The fight collapsed.
Hands. Struggle. Force.
Seconds stretched.
Then—
Stillness.
Bran stood.
Barely.
The boy didn't.
Not unconscious.
But finished.
The wind around him faded completely.
Bran stepped back, breathing ragged, his body shaking slightly as he looked down at his wrist.
[Energy: 108]
"…So it transfers…"
He exhaled, dragging a hand across his face.
That was close.
Too close.
Then—
A soft pulse.
Familiar.
Runic System Notification
Opponent Defeated: Level 1
Reward: +2 Runic Points
Current Total: 72 RP
Bran blinked slightly.
"…Right."
The system hadn't stopped.
It never did.
Another pulse followed.
The window expanded.
Status Updated
Name: Bran
Level: 1
Runic Points (RP): 72
Stats:
Strength: 5
Speed: 5
Stamina: 5
Mana: 5
Health: 5
Bran stared at it for a brief moment.
Then exhaled.
"Not enough…"
Not for this.
Not for what was coming.
He closed the window.
Because standing still—
Was how you died here.
He turned—
And moved.
Behind him—