[Third Person's PoV]
A blur of white and gold swam through the mist, swinging his axe. A brilliant white light ignited, forming a crescent blade that slashed through one of the BlackHearts.
However, the axe shattered in Lucian's hands. In the next instant, multiple black blurs streaked past his stationary form.
Pain erupted across his body as deep slashes carved through him, his blood splattering against the ground. Yet, instead of faltering, Lucian's eyes flared with golden light. The surroundings dimd as he began absorbing the ambient light.
His wounds closed instantly, his radiance intensifying. Darkness swallowed everything except for his eyes, now shining like twin stars.
Lucian stepped forward, unleashing a photon beam from his gaze. At first, the beam struck the ground, carving a deep trench.
"AHHHHHHH!!!" Lucian roared in exhilaration, the corners of his eyes glowing bright yellow. He spun, directing the beam toward the BlackHearts. So burned under its scorching power, but others twisted and evaded, their movents unnervingly swift.
As the attack subsided, the light around his eyes flickered before dimming. Shadows stretched unnaturally around him, and from their depths, the BlackHearts erged with maddening glee, their weapons raised high.
They struck—swords, spears, scythes—all embedding into Lucian's form.
But his body rely shattered into radiant particles.
'Finally… it worked.' He thought, though irritation crept in as he glanced at the fresh cuts that still managed to mark him.
Lucian crossed his arms in front of him, and multiple crosses of light materialized in the air. With a flick of his hand, they blitzed forward, piercing through the battlefield.
Most of the BlackHearts dove into their shadows or blocked the attack with weapons of darkness, but so weren't quick enough.
'I need to be more creative!' Lucian frowned, frustration mounting.
Swords, spears, glaives, and orbs of light continued to manifest around him. The BlackHearts retaliated, conjuring dark counterparts to his attacks.
Weapons clashed midair and against the ground, triggering chain reactions of explosions. The battlefield beca a storm of darkness and light, colliding in relentless chaos.
Lucian shifted into a horse stance, squatting slightly as he drew his hands to his waist. Light coalesced between them, forming a blinding sphere of white and yellow, soft rainbow hues reflecting off its surface.
While charging his attack, the battle raged on. So of the BlackHearts, trusting in their unnatural durability, charged through the explosions.
Lucian smirked arrogantly. "Be seared by the brilliance of the sun!"
With a powerful thrust, he unleashed a massive beam of light from between his palms. The sheer size of the blast dwarfed even him, pulverizing everything in its path.
Sound warped under the attack's intensity as the beam carved a deep, smoldering trench into the battlefield. The BlackHearts caught in its path were incinerated—skin blistering, turning black, then vanishing into wisps of purple mist, which too were erased by the light.
As the attack faded, the ground glowed red-hot, steam rising from the deep groove left behind. The air shimred with heat, distorting the battlefield.
Watching from a distance, Hecate observed with interest. She noted how Lucian adapted mid-battle, how his mastery of light evolved with each encounter.
Her gaze shifted toward the horizon. The sun was setting.
Ignoring the ongoing battle, she remained motionless as a stray attack hurtled toward her—only to dissipate against an invisible mystical barrier.
Then, as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon and night took hold, she snapped her fingers.
The BlackHearts vanished.
She turned back to Lucian, watching as his transformation unraveled. His golden hair darkened, his luminous eyes dimming to ruby red, mirroring the very creatures he had fought.
The mont the transformation was undone, Lucian dropped to his knees. His breath ca in ragged gasps, his body drenched in sweat. One eye remained shut as he struggled to regain himself.
"Now…" Wheeze "That's what…" Wheeze "I call effective training…" he gasped.
Hecate smirked. "Deep breaths. You've been fighting for nearly twelve hours straight. You're exhausted—physically, ntally, and magically."
Lucian let out a weak chuckle, still catching his breath.
Lucian weakly summoned three potions from his shadow—one for each alignnt—and downed them in quick succession before tossing the empty bottles aside and collapsing onto his back.
"Man, that's too bad… I was just getting sowhere," he muttered between heavy breaths, his eyes half-closed.
"You were?" Hecate asked, intrigued.
Lucian wanted to nod but was too exhausted to move. "By constantly moving at the speed of light, I was slowly becoming light itself. I can already turn my body into pure darkness—sothing I've semi-mastered—and I was about to apply the sa principle to light. If I could fully beco pure energy, I could phase through attacks."
He lifted a shaky hand, feeling his magic slowly returning. A wisp of shadow magic flickered into existence in his palm. Focusing, he attempted to alter its properties. For a brief mont, the lower part of the shadow turned lighter, almost translucent—but then it snapped back to its natural form.
With a sigh, Lucian let his arm fall back to the ground, sprawled out in disappointnt.
"You can't seriously be upset with your progress, can you?" Hecate asked, giving him a deadpan look.
"Of course I am. I thought I'd at least make it fainter, but all I got was a flicker," he grumbled.
Hecate sighed in exasperation. "Lucian, what you just did would take a normal person a month to achieve. A genius? A week. You're impossible to satisfy."
"Satisfaction leads to complacency," Lucian said solemnly.
Hecate smirked. "Is your Brightheart personality leaking through?"
"Oh, gods," Lucian groaned, covering his face in embarrassnt. "Don't remind ! How do I say stuff like that with a straight face? Ugh!" He rolled onto his side, writhing in secondhand embarrassnt.
After a mont, he sighed and sat up. "That said… I have to admit, I kind of agree with what I said about pride."
Hecate nodded with a faint smile. "I agree with so of it too."
Scratching his cheek, Lucian glanced at her, looking slightly sheepish. "Anyway… I wanted to apologize if I was rude to you. I hope you don't take offense to anything I say in that form."
Seeing the stark contrast between his usual self and his Brightheart persona, Hecate couldn't help but chuckle in amusent. "Don't worry, I don't take offense…" Then her expression darkened slightly. "But you have to stop calling 'babe' when you transform, or I won't be held responsible. I don't want to have to explain to your father why you suddenly ended up in his domain."
"I really can't control it," Lucian said, rubbing the back of his head.
"Then learn to," Hecate scoffed. "Why is that version of you so insistent on calling that anyway?"
Lucian tapped his chin, tilting his head slightly. "Probably because I'm attracted to you."
Hecate blinked, montarily taken aback by his bluntness. There wasn't a hint of hesitation or sha in his voice.
"You're what now?" she asked, barely stifling a chuckle.
Lucian simply shrugged as he pushed himself to his feet. "You're totally my type, so it makes sense that my other self would be even less restrained in expressing it. That side of is just more open… and completely shaless."
Hecate shook her head. "You don't seem to have much sha either. And last I checked, you already had two little girlfriends trailing after you—not to ntion what you told about the Three Fates."
Lucian stretched, letting out a yawn before stepping away. "So? That doesn't make my feelings for you any less real. If anything, it'd be weird if I hadn't developed anything after all the ti we've spent together." He waved lazily over his shoulder. "Anyway, I'm gonna shower and sleep. Sa ti tomorrow?"
Hecate scoffed, waving him off. "Yeah, yeah. Go, you shaless brat. Seriously, have so respect for your teacher."
As he disappeared into his shadow, she shook her head. But despite herself, a small smile crept onto her lips, her eyes softening into an amused crescent.
"…Seriously, what a naughty brat," she muttered to herself.
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