Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

Meanwhile, somewhere in the academy, in a tower called the Tower of Illusion, cadets embarked on a unique training experience designed to push their limits. This formidable structure served as a crucible, where students confronted illusions of themselves, each crafted to test their skills to the utmost.

The tower’s purpose was clear: hone abilities through combat against a reflection that mirrored their own strengths and weaknesses. The difficulty of these illusions could be adjusted, allowing for clones that were not only stronger but also more skilled, making each session a fresh challenge. This facility was the most frequented by cadets, right after the Gravity Room; if not for the exorbitant rental costs, they would have eagerly spent countless hours immersed in the Tower of Illusion.

At this moment, the student council president, Elysia, was deep in her training.

Clad in sleek, full-body black training gear that accentuated her athletic form, her long raven hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. In her grip was a black sword, its blade humming with energy as lightning crackled around it, illuminating her figure with an electric glow. Her golden eyes sparkled with fierce determination, reflecting the storm of power contained within.

Before her stood an exact replica, a clone that mirrored her every move and nuance. This doppelgänger wielded a crimson sword, its blade glinting ominously in the dim light.

The clone’s eyes, while similar in shape, bore a red hue—an unsettling reminder of the challenge that lay ahead. Dark lightning surged around its form, a stark contrast to Elysia’s vibrant energy. Having set the difficulty to the highest level—Hell mode—she prepared for a battle that would push her to the very edge.

Despite the overwhelming pressure radiating from her clone, Elysia’s expression remained stoic, her mind sharp and focused.

Chila~

In an instant, purple lightning flickered around her, and she vanished, reappearing before the clone with a speed that defied belief. She swung her sword, now enveloped in crackling violet energy, delivering a strike that could cleave through steel. Yet, the clone met her attack head-on, their blades colliding with a thunderous crash that reverberated through the tower.

The fight escalated, both combatants moving with godlike speed, trading blows in a flurry of metal and lightning. Each strike was a deadly dance, a choreography of skill and ferocity as they aimed for each other’s lives. It was you die or I die kind of fight.

Crackle! Shiii! Shiii!

Purple and black lightning intertwined, creating a tempest of energy that exploded around them, shattering the environment with each clash. The air thickened with tension, the very fabric of reality bending under the force of their duel.

As the battle raged on, Elysia found herself struggling. The clone’s movements were a testament to advanced swordsmanship, each technique practiced to perfection.

Elysia’s attacks, while powerful, began to feel slightly disjointed as she adapted to the relentless onslaught. The injuries she sustained began to pile up—scratches and cuts marred her skin, and her training gear showed signs of wear, torn and scorched from the violent exchanges. Yet, her eyes remained resolute, a flicker of defiance shining through the storm of exhaustion.

With every parry and thrust, Elysia learned, her mind racing to analyze the clone’s technique. She recognized subtle nuances in its movements, the way it anticipated her strikes and countered with ruthless efficiency. This was not merely a training; it was an opportunity for growth. The more she fought, the more she honed her understanding of her own abilities, finding ways to better wield the Law of Lightning that coursed through her veins.

As the intensity of the battle reached a fever pitch, Elysia felt an unfamiliar surge within her—a call to unleash the next stage of her power. The black lightning she had only begun to grasp flickered at the edges of her consciousness, demanding to be controlled. With a deep breath, she focused, channeling her energy into mastering this potent force. The transformation was palpable; the air around her crackled with anticipation.

The fight became brutal.

Ziiii~ Ziii~

Elysia unleashed her newfound control over the black lightning, the dark energy swirling around her as she launched a series of ferocious attacks. The clone, now facing a more formidable opponent, adapted as well, countering her onslaught with equally brutal precision.

Clangs! Clangs!

Metal against metal clashed sending sparkle in the air.

Each strike was a clash of titans, the sound echoing like thunder as they battled, and the tower shook under the force of their combined energies.

Elysia’s resolve deepened, her focus sharpening as she dove deeper into the dance of combat. She began to anticipate the clone’s moves, countering with fluidity that reflected her growing mastery. The two combatants became a whirlwind of purple and black lightning, their blades weaving a tapestry of destruction as they fought with an intensity that bordered on desperation.

As the battle wore on, Elysia’s body ached, her muscles burning with the strain of the fight, but her spirit remained unyielding. She was not just fighting against her clone; she was battling her own limitations, pushing through the pain to emerge stronger. The tower around them bore witness to their struggle, shattered debris and scorched remnants of their furious energy painting a vivid picture of their conflict.

In that moment, Elysia realized that this fight was more than just a test—it was a catalyst for her evolution as a warrior. With each clash, she drew closer to understanding the depths of her power, and as the struggle continued, a new fire ignited within her, ready to embrace the thrill of an exciting fight.

The battle raged on, a testament to Elysia’s unwavering determination. She fought not just for victory, but for the very essence of her identity—the future patriarch of the Raizen family. The weight of her lineage pressed heavily on her shoulders; the Raizen family was the second strongest among the clans, but Elysia harbored a burning ambition to elevate her family’s status to the pinnacle of power. Her ultimate goal was clear: to surpass the formidable Samael family, the current rulers of strength and influence.

As the fight reached its crescendo, both Elysia and her clone unleashed everything they had left. The air crackled with tension as dark lightning surged around them, illuminating the tower with flashes of energy that obscured the very walls of reality. Each fighter bore the scars of their struggle, and the remnants of their earlier exchanges littered the ground—pieces of shattered stone and scorched earth marked the battlefield.

Elysia focused her energy, channeling the Raizen’s swordsmanship into its Fifth stage, a technique that demanded absolute mastery and precision. Her movements became fluid, an expression of the years of training and sacrifice that had led her to this moment. The clone, equally skilled and fierce, responded with its own advanced techniques, countering Elysia’s strikes with ruthless efficiency. The two were locked in a deadly ballet, each seeking to outmaneuver the other, each blow resonating with the weight of their ambitions.

As the dark lightning crackled and danced around them, Elysia felt the pressure mount. She knew this clash was pivotal—not merely a test of strength but a trial of spirit. In a moment of reckless determination, she made a bold choice. With a fierce battle cry, she allowed the clone’s sword to pierce her side, the sharp edge biting into her flesh. Pain lanced through her, but she channeled that pain into her resolve, swinging her own sword in a desperate arc aimed at the clone’s neck.

Time seemed to slow as the blade cut through the air, but as she executed the move, her vision blurred, and she felt herself fall to her knees, blood pooling on the floor beneath her. The sting of defeat threatened to engulf her, but her spirit remained unyielded.

’’Huff! Huff!”

Ragged breaths escaped her lips as she fought against the impending darkness, the weight of her bloodied body heavy on her resolve.

In the midst of her suffering, Elysia reached for her pouch, her fingers trembling as they fumbled for the high-grade elixir. It felt like a lifeline, a last resort that could turn the tide in her favor. With desperate urgency, she uncorked the vial and drank deeply, the healing potion coursing through her veins like a warm wave, mending the gaping hole in her stomach. The sensation was both invigorating and surreal, as the elixir worked its wonders, closing the wound and restoring her vitality.

Once the pain began to ebb, Elysia sat cross-legged on the ground, grounding herself in a meditative posture. Her mind raced, processing the events of the battle, digesting the lessons learned amidst the chaos. Dark lightning continued to flicker around her, responding to her will like an obedient child, coiling and weaving with each breath she took. The energy felt alive, a reflection of her spirit, and as she focused, she began to feel a deep connection to the powerful forces within her.

In this moment of tranquility, Elysia sought to understand the intricacies of the dark lightning she had unleashed. She visualized its flow, learning to manipulate its currents, to guide its power rather than be overrun by it. Each pulse of energy resonated with her heartbeat as she delved deeper into her own essence, uncovering the strength that had always been there, waiting to be awakened.

As her breathing steadied, determination ignited within her. Elysia envisioned the path ahead, the road that would lead her to greatness, to the moment she would claim the mantle of patriarch. It was already set in stone but she had to stay cautious until the last moment. The sacrifices she had made and the trials she had faced were but stepping stones toward her ultimate goal.

With renewed vigor, she stood, her body now fully healed and infused with the dark lightning she had learned to command. The clone, still standing before her, mirrored her movements, but Elysia felt a surge of confidence as she prepared to continue the fight. This time, she would not falter. This time, she would harness every ounce of power within her to quickly end the fight, however before she could continue she received call from her right hand man, it must be urgent if she contacted her right now knowing well she was training and don’t like to be interrupted if not urgent.