Chapter 4: Pure Flame NOVEL VER.

F-Class District 4 — Night

The room still smelled of smoke and rain.

Shattered glass glimmered across the floor where Recruit 36 lay slumped against the wall. His wristwatch blinked faintly, pulsing with a soft, steady beep… beep…

Yota stood near the broken window, tugging on his sweater. He didn’t look back.

“Looks like they’re WUG military,”

he thought.

“And one of them’s already dead.”

Outside, the night stretched quiet and endless. Yota leaned on the window ledge, one foot balanced on the frame, curtain fluttering against his arm.

“But why are they here… in the middle of the night?”

“What could they want with the F-Class?”

He stared into the dark for a long moment, then sighed.

“Guess I won’t get any answers sitting here.”

He stepped into the wind—and vanished into the night.

⸻

Group E — F-Class District 5

Boots struck wet pavement in rhythm. Nineteen recruits followed Sergeant Kert down the narrow street, their shadows cutting through the lamplight.

“Right here,” Kert said, raising a hand. “We’ve reached District 5.”

The recruits stopped, waiting for orders.

“We’ll split into two teams,” he continued.

“Capture from both sides. No mistakes. Once done, regroup here.”

His calm voice carried authority. Yet beneath it, tension hummed like static.

One recruit—#55—raised a trembling hand. His eyes glistened red.

“And my family, sir? They live in the Third District… What’ll happen to them?”

Kert froze. The confidence in his posture faltered for a second.

He looked down at the young man and spoke quietly.

“I’m not sure what will happen to anyone,” he admitted.

“That thought alone terrifies me.”

A heavy silence settled over the street.

Then Kert straightened, flame-colored eyes steady once more.

“But since the academy, I’ve heard your cries. You fear for them.”

“And you have my word—I’ll keep them safe.”

Recruit 55 smiled faintly, wiping away a tear.

“Thank you, Sarg—”

The words cut short.

Every wristwatch in the squad flashed red.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Kert glanced down at his own. His expression darkened.

RECRUIT 36 — NEEDS MEDICAL

CORPORAL OFFICER SORA — ELIMINATED

His teeth clenched.

“Sora…”

Flames ignited around him—pure, white-orange, roaring upward with no heat, only fury.

“PURE FLAME!”

The blast tore through the street. Recruits stumbled, shielding their faces from the blinding light.

By the time they looked up, Kert was already gone—soaring into the night, a trail of fire behind him.

“Wait—where’s he going?!”

“Did he just—try to burn us?!”

The wind died, leaving only glowing sparks drifting through the dark.

Recruit 43 stared at his own watch, voice shaking.

“Did you guys see the alert?! Is… the Corporal’s really dead?”

Across from him, Recruit 41 stepped forward. His tone was steady, almost calm.

“If you’ve underestimated the F-Class by now, you’re gravely mistaken.”

“I would know. I’m one myself.”

Murmurs rippled through the ranks as he crossed his arms, smirking.

“We’re not weak rejects,” he said.

“We’re the same as you, just don’t fit anywhere else.”

F-Class District 4 — The Battle

A blade-armed recruit dove from the air, roaring.

“This is for killing our Corporal!”

Neighbor 4 looked up, unflinching. His fist met the attacker mid-fall.

The impact echoed down the street.

Recruit 39’s body folded, hurled backward into a streetlight. Metal screamed as the pole bent and collapsed.

He slid down unconscious before the light hit the ground with a CRASH.

Neighbor 4 exhaled softly, flexing his scarred hand.

“He didn’t deserve this,” he said.

“Neither do you. Go home.”

But Recruit 40 refused. Ice mist gathered between her palms, dripping into liquid shards.

“Not until I capture every last one of you F-Class vermin!”

She hurled the storm forward—hundreds of icy bullets cutting through the air.

Neighbor 4 braced himself.

At the last instant, Neighbor 5 stepped ahead, both hands raised. The air shimmered, solidified. Bullets ricocheted harmlessly off invisible walls.

“Air Vortex—Air Block Defense!”

Ice splintered against the unseen barrier. Behind him, Neighbor 4 blinked once in surprise.

“I’ve got your cover, Aurthor!” Neighbor 5 yelled. “Go!”

Aurthor nodded.

“Right.”

As mist faded, Recruit 40’s eyes widened. “How dare he stop my attack!”

She gathered power again. The fog swirled, shaping into blades, cannons, and countless weapons.

“ICE MIST—HUNDREDS OF WEAPONS BARRAGE!!”

The sky filled with steel and ice.

Aurthor lunged straight through it.

Shards sliced across his arms and face, leaving shallow cuts—but he didn’t stop.

“Damn,” he muttered, pushing forward.

The storm ended. Recruit 40 burst out laughing, triumphant.

“For a second I thought an F-Class was actually getting the best of me!”

Her laugh died.

Aurthor stepped through the drifting mist, half his face shadowed, eyes cold.

He dropped the debris blocking her view—and vanished from sight.

Then—

BOOOOM!

His fist smashed into her head, driving her into the street. The ground split open beneath her, dust exploding outward.

“PAY ATTENTION!”

Cracks spider-webbed through the concrete. Recruit 32 flinched. Recruit 33’s hair whipped across her face, silent and still.

“Tch,” another voice said.

Recruit 35 stepped forward, smirking. “Couldn’t even handle local neighbors. What a joke.”

He cracked his knuckles.

“I’ll show them real power.”

A burst of motion—he was gone.

“Pressure—!”

The slap landed like thunder.

Neighbor 4’s face whipped sideways, blood spraying.

Recruit 35 grinned. “Slap!”

Aurthor’s head turned back slowly, eyes burning.

Then his fist crashed into 35’s gut.

“HHUKKGH!”

The two traded blows—elbows, fists, a blur of brutality.

Finally, 35 caught Aurthor’s wrist mid-swing.

“Don’t even try!”

He unleashed a barrage—Pressure Punches—each impact echoing like gunfire.

Aurthor’s body absorbed every hit until Neighbor 5 intervened again, wind swirling like a cyclone.

“Air Vortex—Ripple Effect!!”

The storm erupted.

Both fighters were hurled apart—Aurthor crashing to the ground, unconscious. Recruit 35 landed on his feet, grinning through blood.

When the dust settled, 35 stood grinning through blood, one hand raised.

“I’m…still standing.”

⸻

The Wind Crush

Neighbor 5 darted forward again, wind twisting around him like serpents.

“AIR VORTEX — WIND CRUSH!!”

The pressure warped the street itself.

Recruit 35 smirked, bruised and cocky.

“Bring it on.”

Across the way, Recruit 32 turned to 33, panic rising.

“Should we do something?!”

She stayed still, eyes sharp.

“Not yet.”

Neighbor 5 skidded on his knees, carving a trench through the dirt.

“AIR VORTEX — BLAST!!”

The air compressed into a visible spiral, ready to detonate—

—but a blur cut through it.

Recruit 61 appeared behind 35, hand on his waist.

“I don’t think so.”

Both vanished an instant before the blast erupted.

The vortex imploded, flinging dust and debris in a deafening wave.

When it cleared, 61 had re-appeared several meters away, holding a dazed 35 upright.

Behind them, Neighbor 5 collapsed, crushed under the recoil of his own power.

Neighbor 5 struggled to rise. “Aurthor! Wake up!”

But Aurthor didn’t move.

35 laughed softly.

“So that’s his name, huh? Well, he won’t be waking up anytime soon.”

⸻

The Clap

A low chuckle rolled through the smoke.

Neighbor 7 stepped forward. Rough, scarred hands met with a single clap.

A spark of light bloomed between them.

Shaped like a star.

The glow drifted toward Recruit 61.

“What’s that?” 61 murmured, tilting his head.

The light pulsed—

and exploded into a radiant sword.

It pierced through his head clean.

Blood sprayed across the dirt.

Recruit 61 collapsed, the glowing blade still embedded through his skull. Blood dripped down its edge in slow rhythm.

Next to him, Recruit 35’s voice cracked. “What the—?!”

On the ground, Aurthor’s body jolted. His eyes snapped open as a violent cough tore from his chest.

“Hhhkff!”

Blood splattered the street.

⸻

TO BE CONTINUED — END OF CHAPTER 4