Virellia had fallen silent after Garlan’s wordless rage. The calm of the sanctuary returned, filled only with faint rustlings and the songs of unseen birds.

  Then, softly, she spoke again.

  — There is little I can do for you, Garlan. Not directly. But two of my children will take you where you may progress on your own.

  She raised an arm, and two figures emerged from the temple’s shadows: tall, supple beings of living wood and knotted vines, eyes glowing with peaceful green light.

  — They will guide you to a hidden waterfall. You will meditate beneath its waters.

  Her shining gaze fixed on him.

  — Each hour, you will be struck. Not as punishment. To strengthen your mana. Your spirit. And your body.

  Garlan frowned.

  — And then?

  — At the end of each day, you must make the waterfall vanish. But only with your fire. Your inner fire. No incantations. No words. Only your breath, your being.

  Garlan stepped back slightly, uneasy.

  — I… I don’t know how to wrap myself in fire. Wind, lightning, yes. But not fire. I’m afraid of burning everything around me.

  Virellia’s kind gaze turned to Marenna.

  — Has he ever burned you, ever harmed you… in your embraces?

  A silence of total emotional panic fell.

  Marenna went crimson. Memories of the clearing—the moment of fusion—rushed back in a brutal flash. Garlan stared hard at a patch of moss on the ground as though it could swallow him whole.

  — Uh… no. No, never, Marenna stammered.

  Virellia nodded slowly.

  — And yet, Garlan… in those moments, it is your ardent desire expressing itself. Without burning everything down.

  She stepped closer.

  — You can control it—unconsciously. It is time that control became… conscious.

  The path to the waterfall sank into a shaded gorge, where light fractured through the dense foliage.

  Garlan could already feel the air’s humidity. Heavy. Saturated with life. Then he heard it.

  The crash of water.

  When he finally arrived before the falls, he froze.

  It didn’t simply fall. It hammered down.

  A wall of water, dense as stone, plummeting straight as if each drop weighed a ton. Every impact against the rocks made the ground quake.

  — Looks like Darak just sent me his boulders… fluid version, Garlan muttered.

  The two children of Virellia led him to the basin’s edge, one pointing to the center beneath the main torrent.

  Garlan nodded. He closed his eyes, circulated his mana, and at once donned his draconic armor, crimson scales sheathing his body. By now, he knew every so-called “simple trial” always hid a fresh hell to endure.

  He stepped forward.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The moment he entered the basin, the weight of the water bent him double. It was as if the falls sought to bury him in the earth.

  And that was only the beginning.

  No sooner had he taken position than one of the Children of Life calmly lifted an arm. A whip-branch burst from its back and lashed across Garlan’s shoulders with a sharp crack.

  Then another. And another. Rhythmic. Measured. Relentless.

  — They hit like… draconic lumberjacks, Garlan thought, teeth gritted.

  But he remained standing.

  Meanwhile, from the sanctuary’s heights, Virellia watched Marenna. When she felt the young woman’s energy vibrating to a new rhythm, she approached slowly.

  — You too may evolve, Marenna. Differently from him. But perhaps more profoundly still.

  She extended a hand of sap and light.

  — I can help you. Bring you to the threshold of a higher state. To cross a boundary your kind has never seen. A dryad in becoming… or something greater still.

  Marenna stared at her, half-intrigued, half-intimidated.

  — And if I’m not ready?

  — Then nothing changes. You remain as you are—and that is no failure. But if you are… this sanctuary will open doors only you can pass through.

  Virellia stopped before her, gaze soft.

  — It depends on what you wish to become. At this stage, you are almost a dryad, Marenna—in terms of mana and healing capacity.

  Marenna’s eyes widened.

  — I thought I was still far from that level…

  Virellia smiled.

  — You’ve exchanged mana with him countless times, haven’t you? His has become colossal. Nearly forty percent of his grandfather’s.

  She paused, grave.

  — Since I occupy him, he cannot aid you. And I cannot infuse you with my own mana, Marenna. The risk would be too great. You could… explode.

  Virellia raised her head.

  — HAROUN!

  A gentle roar echoed through the leafy sky. A green drake, pure as emerald, descended in a graceful spiral. Upon landing, he shifted into a humanoid form of almost unreal beauty—slender, fierce, alive.

  Marenna felt a flicker of unease at his presence, just enough to unbalance her mana… enough that Garlan sensed it.

  He appeared, still dripping, draconic armor glistening with droplets of fire.

  — What’s wrong, Marenna? I felt a disturbance in you.

  His eyes fell on Haroun.

  — Uh… who’s the playboy?

  Virellia raised a brow.

  — How did you get here so quickly?

  — That’s not an answer to my question!

  Virellia sighed softly.

  — He is my son. He will help Marenna progress… by lending her a little of his mana.

  Garlan staggered back, stunned.

  — Excuse me?! No one lends anything into my wife!

  — You are unavailable. And she must grow.

  Rage surged. Energy condensed around Garlan, his body swelling, draconic form intensifying.

  Marenna caught his arm.

  — Stop. I won’t do it.

  — No. I can’t deny you your growth… but I’ll be the one to handle it. And deny mine.

  Virellia intervened, firm but calm.

  — You still have progress to make, Garlan. True. But your instinct is sincere.

  Garlan, fangs bared, never left Haroun with his eyes.

  — Maybe. But your playboy doesn’t touch my wife.

  Haroun stepped forward, calm smile unshaken.

  — Then I propose a bargain. A fight. If you win, I withdraw. If I win, you let me help her grow.

  Before he’d even finished, Haroun took an uppercut under the chin that sent him flying.

  Garlan had already teleported above him. With a roar, he brought down both arms like a twin hammer. Haroun smashed into the ground, the crash sending dust and bark flying.

  The emerald drake rose slowly, a trickle of blood at his lips. He smiled, amused.

  — Ah ah… fiery indeed. But I am a Primordial’s child, not a second generation. Much less a weak hybrid.

  Virellia, still unmoving, watched with quiet astonishment. Seeing her own son manhandled like this surprised her.

  — Have I underestimated him? she murmured. Could he not only train himself… but also train Marenna at the same time?

  Haroun lunged at Garlan. They exchanged a flurry of blows, each precise and powerful.

  But Garlan’s strikes had changed.

  Every impact left a glowing mark on Haroun’s skin. Burning brands, still consuming him even after contact.

  Virellia felt a strange pressure in the air. She wavered, dizzy.

  — Impossible… That’s his grandfather’s attack… the Eternal Flame.

  Her fists clenched, stunned.

  — But how… when did he manage to create this?

  Haroun didn’t understand what was happening to him.

  — Why won’t this fire die? he snarled, arms marked with living embers.

  He dove beneath a pool of fresh water, hoping to douse the flames.

  But nothing. The fire still consumed him.

  For the first time, panic flickered across Virellia’s face. She shouted:

  — Garlan! Cancel your magic! Please… don’t kill my son!