The city was alive with the hum of twilight. Merchants packed their stalls, adventurers exchanged tales in the taverns, and the streets bustled with the rhythm of ordinary life. Sebas sat with his party, Steel Tongues, at the corner table of their favorite inn, a bowl of stew cooling before him. Marek leaned lazily against the wall nearby, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

“Tomorrow, we’ll hit the dungeon entrance first thing,” the Steel Tongues’ leader, an archer named Keira, said. “The rumors say it’s crawling with stronger monsters. Perfect place to gain levels.”

“Sounds fine by me,” Sebas replied absently, pushing his spoon through the broth. His mind, however, wandered to his latest interaction with the Dragon Queen. The Scale Codex felt heavier now, pulsing softly with each heartbeat.

He didn’t have long to dwell on it.

From outside came a sound like thunder. The earth trembled, rattling dishes on tables and shattering glass windows. Conversations turned to shouts as the patrons surged to their feet.

“What was that?” Sebas muttered, leaping up and following the crowd outside.

A shadow loomed over the city skyline, massive and alive with an ominous red glow. Sebas’ breath caught in his throat. From the north gate poured a torrent of figures—dark shapes wreathed in flame, their movements chaotic and predatory. Smoke billowed upward, filling the sky with choking blackness.

“Demons,” Marek said, appearing beside him as if he had stepped from the shadows. His voice was calm, but his sharp eyes reflected the fire.

“How—” Sebas started, but Marek cut him off.

“It doesn’t matter. Move.”

Keira grabbed Sebas’ arm. “Steel Tongues! Rally! We’re getting civilians to safety!”

The party leapt into action, sprinting toward the chaos. Sebas’ heart pounded as they rounded the corner, finally seeing the northern district clearly. The city walls had been breached. Fire spread across rooftops, smoke curling into the heavens. Demonic beasts rampaged through the streets, their glowing eyes fixated on fleeing citizens.

Sebas raised his hands instinctively. “*Dragon Shout!*” he bellowed. A concussive wave of sound erupted from his throat, flattening a group of lesser demons and buying a panicked family time to escape.

“Focus on what’s in front of you,” Marek ordered, darting past Sebas with deadly precision. In a blur, Marek’s dagger slashed across the throat of a demon twice his size. Blood—black and steaming—spattered the cobblestones. Marek pivoted gracefully, striking the creature’s knees before it collapsed, lifeless.

Sebas barely had time to admire Marek’s efficiency before he found himself under attack. A beast lunged for him—a spindly, four-armed monstrosity—its claws flashing like sickles. Sebas ducked, throwing out his arm.

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*Fire Tongue,* he thought instinctively, the words erupting from his mind. A jet of searing flame shot from his palm, engulfing the creature and leaving it writhing in agony.

“Good!” Keira shouted from above. She loosed arrow after arrow, each one finding its mark in the chaos. “We hold here until the guard can reinforce us!”

Sebas felt the weight of battle press down on him, his mana reserves already starting to wane. He had never fought like this before—so many enemies, so much death. But then, amidst the noise, he saw something that chilled his blood.

A towering figure strode through the smoke—a demon larger than any he had seen so far. Its body was made of molten rock and obsidian, its claws dripping with molten fire. It roared, and the very air around it shimmered with heat.

“*What* is that?” Sebas whispered.

“A lieutenant,” Marek said grimly. “Sebas, stay here.”

Before Sebas could protest, Marek moved.

For the first time, Sebas saw Marek unleash his full strength. As he sprinted toward the demon lieutenant, the air around him shifted. A faint blue aura flared to life, tracing the edges of Marek’s form like ethereal flames. He moved faster than the eye could follow, closing the distance between himself and the towering demon in an instant.

The lieutenant turned with an earth-shaking growl, swiping at Marek with claws as large as swords. But Marek was gone before the blow landed, a streak of blue light that reappeared behind the demon’s leg. His dagger flashed, carving into the creature’s Achilles tendon. The demon staggered, roaring in fury, and Marek struck again—a blur of motion, a flicker of light.

Sebas watched in awe. It wasn’t just speed—Marek’s movements carried an unnatural fluidity, as though he were manipulating the very air around him. Aura Control, Sebas realized. Marek wasn’t just fast; he was *channeling* his life force into every strike, enhancing his speed, power, and precision to a supernatural level.

The lieutenant swung wildly, its molten limbs crashing into buildings and scattering debris. Marek weaved through the attacks, his aura glowing brighter with every movement. Finally, he leapt onto the demon’s back, his dagger plunging into the base of its neck. The aura around him flared brilliantly as he channeled all his energy into the final blow.

The demon let out a deafening roar, its body convulsing before collapsing with an earth-shaking crash. Marek landed lightly on the ground, his dagger steaming with dark blood. His aura flickered before vanishing entirely, leaving him standing in the center of the street, untouched and victorious.

Sebas exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Around him, the remaining demons faltered, their morale broken by the death of their leader. The Steel Tongues pressed their advantage, cutting through the disorganized horde.

“Guards!” a voice cried from the far end of the street. Sebas turned to see a battalion of city guards charging into the fray, weapons gleaming. The reinforcements had arrived.

The demons scattered, retreating back toward the breach in the wall. The city guards pursued, shouting orders as they pushed the invaders out. The fires still raged, but the battle’s tide had turned.

Sebas collapsed to one knee, his body trembling with exhaustion. Marek approached, his expression as calm as ever, though a bead of sweat ran down his temple.

“You did well,” Marek said simply.

Sebas shook his head. “I’ve never… seen anything like that. Your aura… it’s unreal.”

Marek smirked faintly. “You’ve only scratched the surface of what’s possible. Aura Control takes years to master. What you saw tonight is the result of a lifetime of training.”

Sebas looked down at his trembling hands. “I have a long way to go.”

“You do,” Marek agreed. “But you survived. You fought. That’s more than most rookies can say after their first real battle.”

Keira and the rest of the Steel Tongues regrouped, their faces smeared with soot and sweat but alive.

“The guards are securing the wall,” Keira said, catching her breath. “We need to check in at the guild. They’ll want a report.”

Sebas nodded, forcing himself to his feet. As the party made their way back toward the guild hall, he glanced over his shoulder at Marek. The rogue moved like a shadow, his steps silent despite the rubble-strewn streets.

*What* are you, Marek? Sebas wondered. The rogue’s power was on a completely different level—something far beyond what Sebas had seen in his short time as an adventurer.

Whatever it was, Sebas knew one thing: he had to get stronger. The Chaos forces weren’t going to stop with one attack. And if Marek was the standard for what a hero looked like, then Sebas had a lot of catching up to do.