Ultimate Dragon System: Grinding my way to the Top-Chapter 159: I need to improve

Tongen stood still, watching the boy carefully.

This guy is stronger than I thought, he admitted to himself.

Not strong enough to win.

But strong enough to be noticed.

He turned toward him.

"Get back to the academy," Tongen said calmly, facing Jelo. "Tomorrow... be prepared. I have something planned for you guys."

There was something deliberate in his tone. This wasn’t random.

This was preparation.

⸻

Later that evening...

The dorm room was quiet.

Jelo lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the fight in his mind — every exchange, every moment where he reached and came up short. The impact of Tongen’s strikes. The speed he couldn’t track. The distance between where he stood and where he needed to be.

He exhaled slowly.

"I have to improve my fire powers..."

A small flame flickered above his palm — weak, unstable, barely holding its shape against the still air of the room.

"I’ve barely been using them in fights lately."

The flame trembled like it wasn’t sure it wanted to exist.

"My fused fire abilities could be really useful in battle... but I haven’t mastered any of them."

He hadn’t even tried to. Not seriously. Not the way he’d thrown himself into other aspects of his training. Fire had always been there — a constant at the edge of his awareness — and somewhere along the way he’d started taking it for granted. Treating it like a fallback instead of a weapon.

He clenched his fist and the flame vanished.

He had lost badly to Tongen.

And deep down, in the part of himself that didn’t make excuses and didn’t soften things to make them easier to hold — he knew something important.

He couldn’t have won.

Not with the way he was now. Not with fire he couldn’t fully command, and instincts that still hesitated half a second too long. The gap between them wasn’t something that could be closed with effort alone in a single spar. It wasn’t a crack in the floor.

It was a canyon.

⸻

The door opened.

Atlas stepped inside quietly and shut it behind him. He didn’t say anything right away — just crossed the room and settled into the chair across from Jelo’s bed, the way someone does when they’re not in a rush but have something on their mind.

"So... what were you up to with Tongen today?"

Jelo turned his head slowly.

There was disappointment in his eyes — but not denial. Not the kind of frustration that deflects. Just something honest and unguarded, the way exhaustion makes people stop performing.

"I sparred with him," he said.

Atlas frowned slightly.

"You sparred with him?"

"Yes." Jelo sat up now, planting his feet on the floor. "He wanted to know more about me. About my abilities. So he tested me."

Atlas leaned back slightly, processing that.

"And?"

Jelo looked down at his hands. He was quiet for a moment — not avoiding the question, but making sure what came out was accurate.

"I lost."

No hesitation.

"No..." he corrected himself, voice dropping just slightly. "I didn’t just lose. I was outclassed."

The distinction mattered to him. Losing meant the gap could’ve gone either way on a different day. Being outclassed meant the result was never really in question.

Atlas didn’t look surprised.

"That’s Tongen," he said calmly.

Jelo’s jaw tightened.

"But that doesn’t mean I stay this way."

A faint spark appeared again in his palm — steadier this time. Not larger, not wilder. Just steadier. Like something inside him had settled after saying it out loud.

Atlas noticed the difference. It was small, but it was real. The flame wasn’t performing. It was patient.

Concern slowly shifted into something else in his expression.

Respect.

"Then tomorrow," Atlas said quietly, "you start closing the gap."

Jelo looked at the flame burning in his open hand.

And this time, he didn’t extinguish it.

After a moment, he looked up at Atlas, expression serious now.

"How about you? These past few days, you’ve been working hard. What were you up to today?"

Atlas leaned back slightly in his chair, the question landing with a weight he didn’t dodge.

"Training. Working on the areas I need to improve."

"Did you go to the arena?" Jelo asked.

"Yes." Atlas nodded. "I did. Mira went too. Not together... but we were both there." He paused briefly, organizing his thoughts. "We spent about two hours training before I left. After that, we talked a little. About Tongen’s method."

Jelo’s gaze sharpened.

"And?"

Atlas exhaled softly.

"She’s not exactly dissatisfied. But we’ve only trained with him once. It’s hard to judge anything properly after one session." He let the thought sit for a second before adding, "And... Tongen doesn’t have much experience training students. He only graduated a year ago."

The room fell quiet for a moment — not uncomfortable, just full of things neither of them had figured out yet.

Then Jelo shifted slightly on the bed.

"How did it feel going to the arena today?" he asked. "I’d like to see how much you’ve improved."

Atlas looked down at his hands for a second, the same way Jelo had. Something about the question made it hard not to.

"I haven’t improved that much," he admitted. "All I can say is... I’m improving little by little."

There was no frustration in his voice. No apology either. Just honesty — clean and undecorated, the way Atlas tended to be when he wasn’t performing for anyone.

Jelo studied him quietly.

Atlas knew he was behind. He knew the gap between him and Jelo hadn’t closed in the last few days, probably hadn’t closed much at all. But there was something steady about the way he said it — like he’d already made peace with the pace and decided to keep going anyway. Slow didn’t mean stagnant. And Atlas, more than almost anyone Jelo had trained alongside, understood that showing up consistently mattered more than occasional brilliance.

Jelo finally nodded.

"That’s still improvement."

He swung his legs off the bed and stood.

"I won’t be sleeping early tonight. I have things to work on."

Atlas stood as well, the chair scraping back slightly against the floor.

"Then I guess we both do."

They moved toward the door together, and as they stepped into the hallway, Atlas’s thoughts lingered behind them — still in that room, still turning over what tomorrow might bring. Tongen had something planned. He’d said it plainly and without elaboration, which somehow made it feel heavier than if he’d explained it in full.

Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be easy.

Just before stepping fully out, Jelo glanced back at him.

"Don’t give up early."

Atlas didn’t answer right away.

But he followed.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​