I Was Born With A Bloodline That Ended The World-Chapter 88: Steps Beyond

The class went on with the same rhythm, duos facing off, classmates circling to watch, learn, and quietly compare.

Some fights were short bursts of power, others a slow grind of skill and reaction. But none of it surprised Rhian or Nia.

They stood at the edge of the mat, quietly observing, until Callor called them over.

"You two," he said, voice steady but firm. "You’re not going to benefit from any of these pairings. You’ve already fought everyone here, and frankly, you’re ahead of the curve."

Rhian and Nia exchanged a glance.

"So here’s what we’re going to do. You’ll fight each other today. But tomorrow..." Callor crossed his arms. "You’ll be facing students from the second year. Upperclassmen. Carriers who’ve had more time, more training, and more experience." 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Nia raised an eyebrow. "What kind of carriers?"

Callor smirked slightly. "The kind that will test your limits."

Rhian didn’t respond immediately, but the look in his eyes made it clear, he welcomed the challenge.

But soon enough, it was time.

Rhian and Nia stepped into the open space.

The students didn’t just make a circle this time, they backed off completely, some pressing against the walls, others climbing onto nearby benches.

No one wanted to get caught in the middle of what was about to happen.

Everyone had seen them spar before. When they fought, it wasn’t for show. It was intense, fast, and loud.

Their fights didn’t end in clean knockouts or one-sided victories. They dragged on, long enough to leave bruises and sweat puddles. Long enough for Mr. Callor to stop pacing and just fold his arms.

And unlike with the other duels, Callor didn’t step forward to place a limit or set a time. He knew better.

He simply said, "Begin."

Rhian took a deep breath, steadying his body as he locked onto Nia’s legs. He wasn’t smiling out of cockiness.

Every time they fought, it demanded all of him. And today, with the entire class watching, he wasn’t going to hold anything back.

He darted forward, his movements shifting into a zigzag dash that kept his steps unpredictable.

His rhythm constantly changed angles, keeping his target from locking onto a path or predicting the next move. But Nia wasn’t like the others.

She had fought him too many times. She had learned to read even the smallest cues in his posture and gait.

The moment she saw the zigzag pattern form, she reacted. Rhian only used that setup when he planned to activate his illusions.

Sure enough, just as she prepared to move, his body split into four.

They spread out in coordinated directions.

One charged directly at her, another circled wide to her left, the third rushed low as if preparing to slide or sweep her legs, and the last one soared high above like it was going for a diving strike.

Every one of them gave off the exact same pressure and energy signature. The illusion was flawless.

But Nia had seen it before.

She didn’t panic or freeze. Instead, she braced her stance and timed her escape.

Her body dropped slightly as if ready to sprint forward, but her eyes caught the shift before her legs could move.

Her shadow. had suddenly jerked.

It rippled and twisted, reaching unnaturally toward her ankle.

It was Rhian’s trap. Shadow manipulation.

He was trying to pin her just as she chose to move. It was a layered strategy, first the illusion, then the shadow bind.

It would’ve caught someone else. Maybe it had caught her before. But not this time.

Her reaction was sharp and instinctive. She kicked off the ground and twisted her form mid-air.

Her legs tucked and rotated as she spun just above the grasp of her own shadow, which lunged upward like tendrils trying to catch her heels.

She landed lightly a few feet away, her boots skidding against the polished floor as she reset her footing.

Rhian didn’t give her time to reset.

The moment she touched down, he was already rushing in. Not one of the illusions, him. The real one.

She braced herself, lightning starting to crackle faintly across her arms, golden veins sparking as she caught the first punch against her forearm.

The blow pushed her back two full steps, her boots sliding along the mat with a harsh grind.

Rhian was faster now. Every exchange, every fight they’d had was building in his body.

She ducked under the next swing, retaliated with a sharp uppercut laced in lightning. Rhian twisted at the last second and it grazed his shoulder.

He countered with a punch that slammed into her ribs, forcing her off balance.

The room groaned under the impact as her body crashed into the reinforced wall, not hard enough to break it, but enough to rattle everyone watching.

She hissed and launched forward again, her fists bursting with golden arcs.

Her feet lifted, flashing with small bursts of electricity as she enhanced her legs.

Her movement blurred for a second as she zipped past Rhian’s guard, striking him clean in the jaw.

It snapped his head to the side.

But he didn’t stagger. Instead, he moved with it, used the momentum, and spun, catching her with a backhand that sent her skidding across the mat again.

She gritted her teeth, forced herself up fast. The lightning around her legs burned brighter now.

"I’m not done."

Rhian didn’t smile. He respected her too much for that.

"Good."

They collided again.

Lightning exploded between them as she swung with everything she had, fists pounding against Rhian’s arms, shoulders, and chest.

Sparks danced across his scales as his wings flicked open, shielding and redirecting strikes where needed. He was reading her rhythm.

She tried to break it. feinting low and bursting up with a jumping knee, Rhian saw it, tilted sideways, and slammed her midair with a palm strike.

She hit the ground but rolled quickly, spinning to her feet.

The others watching had stopped whispering.

Some had even stopped breathing.

She pushed again, her speed now beyond what most in the room could follow.

Every limb she enhanced with lightning gained a burst of speed, but it still wasn’t enough. Rhian was a step ahead, a bit faster, a bit more composed.

Her strikes came faster, sharper. She aimed at joints, ribs, the throat, anywhere that could slow him down.