Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner

The morning air was crisp, carrying that particular quality it only had before the sun fully cleared the horizon. Noah stood in the center of Eclipse’s training yard, watching recruits filter in with varying degrees of wakefulness. Some looked alert, ready. Others clutched thermoses like lifelines, eyes half-closed, moving on autopilot.

Lila arrived a few minutes after him, her expression neutral in a way that suggested careful control rather than actual calm. She nodded once in greeting, then took her position on the opposite side of the clearing without speaking.

Seraleth was among the recruits this morning, which wasn’t unusual anymore. The space elf had been attending these sessions since joining Eclipse, approaching chi training with the same methodical focus she brought to everything else. She stood near the middle of the group, taller than everyone around her, her posture perfect.

”Alright,” Noah called out, waiting for the ambient conversation to die down. ”We’re covering dark chi today. External energy manipulation using negative emotional states as fuel. Lila and I will demonstrate, then you’ll practice under supervision.”

A few recruits exchanged glances. Dark chi had a reputation—harder to control than white chi, more volatile, carrying risks that white chi’s calmer approach avoided. But it was also more immediately powerful, which made it attractive despite the dangers.

”First thing you need to understand,” Lila said, stepping forward. Her voice was steady, professional. ”Dark chi isn’t evil. It’s not corrupting. It’s just energy drawn from a different emotional source. Anger, grief, frustration, fear—these are natural human emotions. Dark chi is about channeling them productively instead of letting them control you.”

She raised her hand, and wisps of red-white energy began forming around her fingers. The manifestation was controlled, contained, responding to her will with precision that came from years of practice. ”You draw on something real. A memory. A feeling. Something that generates genuine emotional response. Then you shape it.”

The energy intensified briefly, then dissipated as Lila lowered her hand. ”Noah, you want to add anything?”

Noah stepped forward. ”The key difference between white and dark chi is intensity versus sustainability. White chi is steady, reliable, can be maintained for long periods. Dark chi burns hotter but drains faster. You use it for burst power, for moments when you need everything you have right now and consequences can wait.”

He demonstrated, pulling on memories he’d rather not examine too closely. The void energy responded immediately, mixing with dark chi in a combination that made the air around his hand shimmer. ”Control is everything. You let it run wild, it’ll tear you apart from the inside. You keep it focused, it becomes one of the most powerful tools you have.”

The recruits began practicing. Noah and Lila moved between them, correcting hand positions, offering guidance, watching for signs someone was pushing too hard too fast.

Seraleth was struggling.

Noah noticed it after the first ten minutes. Her white chi control was excellent—she’d mastered the basics faster than most humans managed, her natural aptitude and disciplined approach creating rapid progress. But dark chi wasn’t responding the same way.

She stood with her eyes closed, hands extended, clearly trying to draw on something. Nothing happened. No energy manifestation. No visible progress.

Noah walked over. ”Having trouble?”

Seraleth opened her eyes, and he saw frustration there—rare for her. ”I don’t understand. The technique is identical to white chi in fundamental structure. Only the emotional source differs. But when I attempt to access negative emotions, nothing manifests.”

”What are you drawing on?” Noah asked.

”Anger, grief, fear?” Seraleth’s jaw tightened slightly. ”I have experienced all of these. My people’s history contains considerable tragedy. I have personal losses. But when I try to channel those feelings, they... slip away. Like trying to grasp water.”

Noah considered that. ”White chi came naturally to you because your people already have something similar in your culture, right? Meditation practices, emotional regulation, internal energy concepts.”

”Correct.”

”So maybe your cultural training is working against you here. You’ve been taught to process negative emotions in ways that resolve them rather than channeling them. Dark chi requires you to hold onto something uncomfortable and use it as fuel. That’s fundamentally opposed to what you’ve been trained to do your entire life.”

Seraleth looked at her hands, understanding dawning. ”So my ability to manage negative emotions healthily is preventing me from using them destructively.”

”Pretty much, yeah.”

”That is...” Seraleth paused, searching for words. ”Frustrating in a way I find difficult to articulate.”

”Keep practicing,” Noah said. ”But don’t force it. If dark chi doesn’t work for you, white chi is already powerful enough to carry you through most situations.”

Seraleth nodded, though her expression suggested she didn’t like accepting limitation.

Noah moved on to check other recruits. Most were making basic progress—small manifestations, flickering energy, the first stages of learning to channel negative emotion into tangible force. A few were pushing too hard, and Noah had to remind them to ease off before they hurt themselves.

He was correcting a recruit’s hand position when he heard Lila’s voice cut across the yard, sharp and cold.

”Are you even trying? Or are you just wasting everyone’s time?”

Noah turned. Lila was standing over a younger recruit—maybe nineteen, new enough that Noah didn’t know his name yet—who’d stumbled during an exercise. The kid looked startled, then hurt, then confused as he processed what Lila had just said.

”I’m—I’m trying, I just—”

”You’re not trying hard enough.” Lila’s voice carried an edge that made other recruits stop what they were doing and look over. ”Dark chi requires commitment. If you can’t even manage basic manifestation after twenty minutes, maybe you should stick to weapons training.”

The recruit’s face went red. Around them, the training space had gone quiet, everyone watching this confrontation unfold.

Noah started to move toward them, to intervene, but Lila was already backing away.

”I need a break,” she said to no one in particular. Then she turned and walked out of the training yard, her pace controlled but unmistakably an exit.

The recruit she’d snapped at looked like he wanted to disappear. Noah walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.

”You’re doing fine,” Noah said quietly. ”Dark chi is hard. Takes time. Don’t let one comment shake you.”

The kid nodded, not meeting Noah’s eyes. Noah squeezed his shoulder once, then looked at the rest of the recruits.

”Keep practicing. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He found Lila in one of the faction building’s side corridors, standing with her back against the wall, arms crossed, staring at nothing.

”Hey,” Noah said, approaching carefully.

”Don’t.” Lila’s voice was tight. ”Don’t try to make me feel better about being an asshole to that kid. I know what I did.”

”I wasn’t going to.” Noah stopped a few feet away, giving her space. ”I was going to ask if you’re okay.”

”I’m fine.”

”You’re not fine.”

Lila’s jaw clenched. Her hands were shaking slightly where they gripped her biceps. ”I said I’m fine, Noah. Just drop it.”

Noah didn’t drop it. He just stood there, waiting, because he knew Lila well enough by now to recognize when she needed to vent and was fighting it.

The silence stretched for maybe thirty seconds. Then Lila’s careful control cracked.

”I had them,” she said, her voice breaking on the words. ”My parents. They were right there. Twenty feet away. And you stopped me from doing anything because of Lucas, because of Arthur’s leverage, because of tactical fucking considerations.”

”Lila—”

”They made clones of me, Noah.” She pushed off the wall, facing him directly. Tears were forming in her eyes but hadn’t fallen yet. ”You know that. You fought them during the tournament. You saw what they did—took my DNA, my genetics, my face, and turned it into weapons. Some of those clones were disfigured. Broken. And my parents did that. My own parents decided that was an acceptable use of their daughter.”

Noah let her talk. Didn’t interrupt. Didn’t try to defend decisions that were already made.

”And when I finally had the chance to confront them, to make them answer for what they did, you made the call to let them walk away.” Lila’s voice was rising now, anger bleeding through the hurt. ”You’re so fucking rational about everything. Always calculating odds, always making the tactical choice, always thinking three steps ahead. But those were my parents, Noah. My family. And you took that choice away from me.”

She was shaking now, hands clenched into fists. ”You’re selfish. You know that? You make these decisions for everyone, and we all just go along with it because you’re Noah Eclipse and you’re always right and you always know best. But you don’t get to decide when I get closure. You don’t get to tell me my pain matters less than the mission.”

The words hung in the air between them. Lila was breathing hard, tears finally falling, her expression a mixture of anger and grief and exhaustion.

Noah didn’t argue. Didn’t defend himself. Didn’t point out that she’d agreed with the tactical assessment in the moment, that letting Arthur escape had been the only choice that didn’t risk Lucas and the other prisoners.

He just stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.

Lila resisted for maybe half a second, then collapsed against him. Her shoulders shook as the tears came harder, all the emotion she’d been holding in since the mission finally breaking through. Noah held her, one hand on her back, the other on her head, and let her cry.

”I know,” he said quietly. ”I know it’s not fair. I know you deserved that confrontation. I’m sorry.”

Lila didn’t respond, just pressed her face against his shoulder and let herself break down properly. They stood there for several minutes, Noah holding her while she worked through everything she’d been carrying.

Eventually, the tears slowed. Lila pulled back slightly, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. ”I didn’t mean that. The selfish thing. You’re not—I know you were making the right call.”

”You meant it,” Noah said. ”And that’s okay. You’re allowed to be angry at me. Doesn’t change anything between us.”

Lila looked up at him, and something shifted in her expression. ”You’re too good at this. The emotional support thing. It’s annoying.”

”I try.”

She laughed, weak but genuine. ”I should go apologize to that recruit. And probably take the rest of the day off from teaching. I’m clearly not in the right headspace.”

”Take the time you need,” Noah said. ”Training can wait.”

Lila nodded, started to pull away, then stopped. ”Noah?”

”Yeah?”

”Thank you. For not trying to logic me out of my feelings. That would’ve made it worse.”

”I know.” He’d learnt that the hard way with Sophie. Sadly, most women weren’t big fans of logic.

She smiled slightly, then headed back toward the training yard to find the recruit she’d snapped at. Noah watched her go, then leaned against the wall and let out a long breath.

Leadership was exhausting in ways combat never was.