Marcus stirred in his bed, feeling more refreshed than he had in days. The soft bedding beneath him was a far cry from the rough terrain of his past, but he was steadily growing used to it.

Soon after getting ready for the day a knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts. "Come in," Marcus called.

The door slid open to reveal a woman he hadn't met before. She was tall and composed, her dark wings neatly folded behind her, radiating an aura of confidence. Her eyes, sharp yet kind, met his.

"Good morning, Marcus," she said, her voice calm and professional. "I'm Penemue. Azazel sent me to fetch you—he's ready to begin your training at the grounds outside."

"Nice to meet you Penemue. I have to ask, "training grounds?" Marcus raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was going to get a lesson in magic today, not… whatever Azazel has planned."

Penemue chuckled. "Knowing Azazel, it'll be a bit of both. He's curious about your combat skills."

Marcus sighed, resigning himself to a day of dealing with Azazel's antics. "Alright, lead the way."

As they walked through the winding halls of the Grigori's headquarters, Marcus struck up a conversation, "Penemue… I take it you work closely with Azazel?"

She smiled faintly. "I do. I'm the Chief Secretary of the Grigori. I handle much of the day-to-day operations and assist with keeping things running smoothly. Azazel may be brilliant, but he's not the best at administration."

Marcus chuckled. "I can imagine. He seems… a little scattered."

Penemue's smile grew wider. "That's one way to put it."

They arrived at the training grounds—an open expanse of dirt ringed by stone pillars. Before Marcus could take it in fully, the sound of bickering caught his attention. Two voices—one sharp and irritated, the other playful—echoed from beyond the pillars.

"Sounds like Azazel and Vali are already at it," Penemue noted. "I'll leave you here. It was nice meeting you, Marcus."

"Likewise. Thanks for the company," Marcus replied with a nod.

Penemue gave him a final nod before turning to leave, and Marcus took a deep breath, bracing himself for whatever awaited him.

Inside the training area, Marcus immediately spotted Azazel, leaning casually against a stone pillar, and a young man with silver hair standing next to him, arms crossed and clearly annoyed. They didn't seem to notice Marcus right away, as their conversation was still in full swing.

"The last mission you sent me on? A complete disaster," the silver-haired man—Vali, Marcus assumed—complained. "You said it would be a simple retrieval, but that creature was anything but simple."

Azazel grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "I didn't say it would be easy. I said it would be manageable."

Vali rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, but before he could respond, Azazel caught sight of Marcus and waved him over. "Ah, Marcus! You're just in time."

Vali turned to face Marcus, his expression curious but reserved. "So, this is the guy you've been going on about?"

"Yep," Azazel said, clapping his hands together. "Marcus, meet Vali. Vali, meet Marcus. You two are going to get along great."

Vali gave Marcus a once-over, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly in assessment. "You look like you're in better shape than the last time we met."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "When we met? I apologize, but I don't seem to remember you."

Vali shrugged. "You were unconscious. Azazel and I found you in the snow, half-dead. Figured you wouldn't remember much."

Azazel clapped his hands together. "That's right! You were in rough shape, but now you're ready to spar with one of our best."

Marcus frowned. "Spar? I don't see how that's related to teaching magic or training me as a research assistant, Azazel."

Azazel grinned, his excitement evident. "Simple. I need to see where you're at combat-wise before we start doing more… dangerous things. We'll be traveling together soon, and it's important that I know your strengths. Think of this as a baseline test, that's where Vali comes in."

Marcus glanced at Vali, who stood there with a calm confidence that was slightly unnerving. "And why exactly is Vali here?"

Vali smirked. "Does my presence bother you?"

"It's not that," Marcus replied slowly, sensing something strange. "There's just… something about you that feels off."

Azazel's grin widened in understanding. "Ah, that's probably Albion you're sensing."

"Albion?" Marcus echoed, puzzled.

Vali sighed, and in a moment, dragon wings burst from his back—not the leathery, scaled kind Marcus was used to seeing, but large ethereal wings, each bearing four large simmering blue feathers. A strange aura surrounded him, thick and oppressive.

"Albion's the dragon sealed in my Sacred Gear—Divine Dividing," Vali explained. "You're probably picking up on his presence."

The wings on Vali's back flashed blue and a dragon's deep voice rumbled through the air. [Greetings, Marcus.]

Marcus blinked, taken aback. "Sorry, that's a lot to unpack. You have a living dragon sealed inside your weapon?"

Vali shrugged, the ethereal wings fading back into nothingness as he crossed his arms. "It's a bit more complicated than that, but we don't have all day for the details. To put it simply, a long time ago, the Abrahamic God created powerful artifacts called Sacred Gears. To make them as strong as possible, he sealed living creatures into them. Dragons, like Albion here, are among the most powerful of those creatures."

Marcus raised an eyebrow, still processing the idea. "So, your power comes from a dragon bound into your weapon?"

"You're misunderstanding something," Vali began, his tone steady. "My power doesn't come from Albion. I'm powerful on my own—Albion just enhances what's already there."

Vali continued. "Think of my Sacred Gear like a weapon. I don't need it to be strong, but I use it to amplify my abilities—just like any warrior might use a sword or bow. Albion's power adds to mine, but it doesn't define me."

Marcus' mind raced as he stared at Vali, the concept of Sacred Gears spinning through his thoughts. The idea of wielding a weapon that contained a living dragon—one that amplified the user's strength—was beyond anything he had encountered in his own world. The closest comparison he could think of was his own archistaff that the Dragonforged claimed had the remnants of a dragon's spirit bound to it.

Azazel stepped forward, his ever-present grin lighting up his face. "Alright, enough talking. Time to see what you can do."

Marcus squared his shoulders, feeling the old, familiar tension of battle creep back into his muscles. He had fought dragons, bandits, and otherworldly beings, but Vali was shaping up to be completely novel.

Vali stretched his neck and cracked his knuckles. "Don't hold back," he said. "Azazel says you're strong. Prove it."

Marcus summoned Grianmhar, his magickal bow, which materialized in a shower of sparks. He felt the comforting hum of magic thrumming through the bowstring as he prepared for the fight ahead. He gave a small nod to Vali, signaling he was ready.

Vali wasted no time. With a burst of energy, he launched himself toward Marcus, moving faster than any human could. Marcus barely had time to react, sidestepping the first attack as Vali's fist grazed his arm with enough force to create a shockwave.

Marcus immediately realized that Vali's speed would leave him no time to incant a spell. Resolving to stick with his bow, he leaped back, firing a volley of seeker bolts at Vali. The arrows homed in on their target, but Vali casually manifested small defensive magical circles, blocking each one with precision.

"Not bad," Vali remarked with a smirk. "But you'll need something more powerful to reach me."

Marcus narrowed his eyes, infusing his bow with elemental lightning. He unleashed a Ricochet Hunter volley, aiming along the length of Vali's body. Vali easily blocked the bolts aimed directly at him, allowing the rest to hit the ground.

But this was exactly what Marcus had planned. The unblocked bolts that hit the ground ricocheted with a crackle of energy, rebounding toward Vali from below. The surprise attack struck Vali squarely, his eyes widening as the electric charge danced across his form.

Azazel laughed from the sidelines, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Smart move, Marcus!"

Vali shook off the attack, grinning. "Alright, I'll admit, that was clever. But let's see how you handle this."

With a flicker of light, Vali summoned Albion's power again, his wings bursting forth in a radiant display as his aura flared. Marcus felt the air around him grow heavier. He gritted his teeth, preparing for the next phase of the battle.

Marcus unleashed a Sagittate Avalanche, conjuring a multitude of magickal arrows above him. The air crackled as they formed, shimmering with magickal energy. Releasing the bowstring, he sent them raining down on Vali, the arrows homing in on their target.

Vali's eyes widened at the sheer number of arrows. His wings flared out, pushing him back. Arrows impacted the ground, each cratering the ground with bursts of energy that echoed through the arena. But some arrows managed to connect, striking Vali.

Vali shook off the impacts, grinning and with a burst of speed began to swiftly fly towards Marcus.

Marcus quickly followed up with Blazefang Arrow, firing a blazing shot off to his right, the arrow's trajectory curving mid-air to catch Vali from the side. Vali's wings flared out, and with a beat, he deflected the explosion to the ground, but not without the heat scorching his clothes.

Vali closed the distance in the blink of an eye, his fist crashing into Marcus with a jarring force. The impact sent Marcus skidding back, his muscles screaming in protest as he barely maintained his footing.

Marcus panted, knowing he was being pushed to his limits. He felt the surge of energy in his veins—his magic welling up to his command. But this time, he needed something stronger.

He began charging up a final attack—Martyr's Bolt. His body trembled as he called forth the immense power, temporarily sacrificing his own vitality to fuel the spell. A glowing, pulsating bolt formed on his bowstring, radiating with destructive energy. His skin burned, and his vision blurred as his strength drained, but he held firm.

Vali's eyes narrowed in recognition of the threat, and with a surge of power, he summoned his Scale Mail, brilliant white plates forming around his body and braced for impact.

Marcus loosed the Martyr's Bolt, the glowing projectile rocketing above Vali like a dying star. The power behind it was overwhelming, cracking the very air as it soared. It exploded as it reached its apex, unleashing a hail of powerful, spiraling magickal bolts that struck the area around Vali repeatedly and indiscriminately.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, the dust cleared, revealing Vali still standing, his Scale Mail barely scorched. He was panting, but unharmed.

Marcus, weakened by the magickal technique, fell to one knee, his vision fading. He barely had time to react as Vali dashed forward, landing a quick, precise blow to Marcus' chest, sending him crashing to the ground.

"That's enough," Azazel called, waving his hands to signal the end of the match.

Marcus groaned as he accepted Vali's hand, pulling himself to his feet. His body ached from the Vali's blows, and he could still feel the lingering effects of the Martyr's Bolt draining his strength. Vali's words echoed in his ears, a mixture of respect and critique.

"You're strong, but you're way too slow."

Marcus wiped sweat from his brow, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. "Not exactly used to fighting someone as fast as you," he admitted with a weak chuckle.

Vali smirked, though there was no malice in his expression. "You'll get there. You have power, no doubt about that. "

Azazel, who had been observing from the sidelines, strode over with a grin plastered on his face. "Well, that was more entertaining than I expected! Great job, both of you." He clapped his hands together, clearly pleased with the outcome.

Turning to face Marcus, Azazel continued. "Well, Marcus, now that we know where you stand… we can start the real training."

Marcus let out a strained breath. "Can't wait."

A/N:

If anyone has any advice on writing fight scenes I would greatly appreciate it.