MARVEL I AM DRAGON GOD

The training hall buzzed with a different kind of energy.

The Vital Festival was just around the corner, and a wave of excitement had swept through both teams, RWBY and JNPR.

Chatter about street vendors, upcoming tournaments, and dazzling performances filled the air.

Even Weiss seemed to have softened, her usual stern demeanor replaced with a hint of anticipation.

Among the excited murmurs, Pyrrha Nikos carried a quieter, yet equally profound, sense of anticipation.

Her focus wasn't just on the festival's grandeur, but on a growing admiration for Arthur.

It wasn't his immense power that drew her, though that was undeniable.

It was the way he saw her. Unlike others who put her on a pedestal, revering her as the "Invincible Girl,"

Arthur treated her like a normal person, a student, someone with room to grow and learn. This simple act of normalcy was a gift she cherished.

One afternoon, after the usual training routines, Pyrrha approached Arthur.

"Professor Arthur," she began, a polite smile on her face, "I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time."

Arthur, who had been observing Jaune practicing his aura control, turned to her with a welcoming nod.

"Of course, Pyrrha. What's on your mind?"

"I've been watching Jaune's progress," she said, glancing over at her leader, who now moved with a newfound fluidity and confidence.

"And I'm truly impressed. Your methods, they seem to... unlock something within him." She paused, a hint of nervousness in her eyes.

"I was hoping, perhaps, you might consider sparring with me. I believe there's still much I can learn."

Arthur's smile broadened. "A spar? I'd be honored, Pyrrha. Though, I must warn you, I don't hold back."

Pyrrha's eyes glinted with determination.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Professor."

They moved to the center of the training hall, the other students stepping back to give them space.

Pyrrha drew her weapon, Miló, shifting it from spear to rifle, then back again.

Her stance was perfect, her aura humming around her, a visible testament to her skill. Arthur, on the other hand, stood calmly, his hands relaxed at his sides, no weapon in sight.

"Are you sure you don't need a weapon, Professor?"

Pyrrha asked, a touch of concern in her voice.

Arthur chuckled softly. "I assure you, Pyrrha, I'll be fine. Ready when you are."

With a nod, Pyrrha lunged forward, a blur of motion. Her spear aimed for his chest, a swift, precise strike.

But Arthur wasn't there. He moved like a ghost, sidestepping her attack with impossible ease. Pyrrha spun, her shield, Akoúo̱, coming up to block an imagined counter, but Arthur was already behind her.

He didn't strike. Instead, he simply tapped her aura shield with his finger. The touch was light, yet the effect was immediate and startling.

Pyrrha's aura, usually an unyielding defense, shimmered and then completely collapsed. She stumbled, momentarily off balance, her eyes wide with shock.

Before she could recover, Arthur was in front of her again. This time, he gently placed two fingers on her forehead.

The world spun for Pyrrha. It wasn't a violent attack, but a disorienting rush. She felt her mind reel, her sense of balance gone. In an instant, she was on her knees, her weapon clattering to the floor.

The spar was over. Just like that. It lasted mere seconds.

The other students watched in stunned silence. Pyrrha, the "Invincible Girl," had been defeated, effortlessly, by Arthur.

Pyrrha slowly pushed herself up, her face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and awe.

She picked up her weapon, her hands trembling slightly.

"How... how did you do that?" she whispered, looking at Arthur with a newfound intensity. "My aura... it just... vanished."

Arthur offered her a kind smile. "It's about understanding the flow of energy, Pyrrha.

And recognizing vulnerabilities. Your aura is strong, undeniably so. But like any defense, it can be bypassed if you know where and how to push."

He then did something that surprised her even more. He extended his hand, not to help her up, but to offer a gesture of respect.

Pyrrha took it, feeling a surge of something she couldn't quite name – not pity, but a genuine desire to help her learn.

"Professor," she said, her voice steady now, her eyes filled with a new kind of resolve, "I want to learn from you. Like Jaune. Will you teach me?"

Arthur's smile deepened.

"It would be my pleasure, Pyrrha."

Arthur began Pyrrha's training the very next day.

He had a clear purpose in mind, one that went beyond simply refining her already formidable skills.

He knew, with an unsettling certainty, that Pyrrha might encounter Cinder Fall in the future.

Cinder, with her stolen Maiden powers, would be a formidable foe, and Pyrrha would need more than just her mastery of polarity to stand a chance.

He wouldn't tell her directly about Cinder; that information was too dangerous, too unsettling.

Instead, he would prepare her in the most practical way he knew how: by pushing her against a challenge even greater than Cinder.

"Today, Pyrrha," Arthur said, leading her into the illusion chamber, "you'll be facing a new opponent. One who possesses a unique mastery of fire, and an intellect that matches her power."

Pyrrha nodded, ready for anything.

The illusion solidified around them, and the familiar sounds of the training hall faded, replaced by the crackle of distant flames and the hiss of steam.

The landscape shifted, transforming into a grand, ornate palace, its halls echoing with the sounds of battle. And then, she appeared.

A woman with dark hair pulled back in an intricate style, her eyes sharp and intelligent, radiating an intense, almost regal, aura of fire. This was Azula.

Azula moved with a terrifying grace, her movements fluid and deadly.

Blue flames danced around her fingertips, far hotter and more intense than any fire Pyrrha had ever witnessed. Azula didn't just manipulate fire; she was fire. Her attacks were not merely blasts of heat; they were precise, calculated strikes of pure energy, capable of cutting through stone and melting metal.

Pyrrha engaged, her heart pounding.

She deflected Azula's fire blasts with her shield, the impact rattling her arm. She used her polarity to throw debris, to disarm, to disrupt, but Azula was always a step ahead.

The blue flames coiled and struck like serpents, forcing Pyrrha to constantly move, to evade, to rethink her every move.

Azula's fire was unlike anything Pyrrha had encountered. It was controlled, precise, and utterly relentless.

Azula could generate lightning, thin, searing bolts that struck with blinding speed.

She could propel herself through the air with jets of flame. She even demonstrated a chilling ability to extinguish fire, draining the heat from the air around Pyrrha, leaving her feeling strangely cold and vulnerable.

Pyrrha fell countless times. Just like Jaune, she stumbled, she misjudged, her aura flickered and dissipated under the intense, unyielding pressure of Azula's attacks.

Azula was faster, stronger, and her control over fire was absolute.

Each time, Pyrrha found herself back at the starting point, breathing heavily, but with a growing understanding of the sheer power she was up against.

Arthur watched, making subtle adjustments to Azula's intensity. He pushed Pyrrha to her breaking point, but never beyond. He wanted her to understand true power, to learn to adapt to a foe who could bend the very elements to her will.

He wanted her to push past her limits, to find new ways to use her polarity, not just defensively, but offensively, creatively.

Days bled into weeks within the illusion.

Pyrrha's movements, initially reactive, became anticipatory. She learned to read Azula's tells, to predict the trajectory of her fire, to find the tiny windows of opportunity to counter-attack.

Her polarity, once a simple tool, became a complex weapon. She learned to manipulate the environment, to create distractions, to disrupt Azula's footing, even to subtly influence the flow of the blue flames themselves, though this was incredibly difficult.

She still lost. Often. But each loss was a lesson. She learned to conserve her aura, to make her movements more efficient.

She learned to think under pressure, to adapt her strategies on the fly. She learned that raw power wasn't everything; precision, intellect, and an unwavering spirit were just as vital.

One afternoon, a breakthrough happened.

Pyrrha, battered and exhausted, found herself cornered by Azula, blue flames licking at her heels. Instead of simply deflecting, Pyrrha took a deep breath.

She extended her hand, not at Azula, but at the metal pillars around them.

With a surge of her aura, she ripped them from the ground, shaping them into a crude, but effective, cage around Azula.

Azula, for the first time, looked genuinely surprised.

The blue flames intensified, blasting at the improvised prison, but it held, momentarily.

Pyrrha, seizing the opportunity, launched a desperate, but well-aimed, counter-attack, a blast of pure kinetic energy pushing Azula back.

The illusion dissolved, and Pyrrha stood in the training hall, panting, sweat pouring down her face. She was utterly exhausted, but a profound sense of accomplishment settled over her.

She hadn't defeated Azula, not truly.

But she had pushed her. She had adapted.

She had found new strength within herself.

Arthur walked over to her, a genuine smile on his face.

"You did well, Pyrrha," he said, his voice filled with quiet approval.

"Very well indeed."

Pyrrha looked at him, her eyes shining with a new kind of understanding.

"She was... incredible," she whispered, still breathless.

"So powerful. I've never faced anyone like that."

"She was meant to challenge you in ways you haven't been challenged before," Arthur explained.

"To push you beyond what you thought you were capable of." He paused, his gaze thoughtful.

"There will be times, Pyrrha, when you face opponents who seem insurmountable. When you feel outmatched. But remember this: true strength isn't just about how hard you can hit. It's about how many times you can get back up. It's about how you adapt, how you learn, and how you find the courage to keep fighting, even when the odds are stacked against you."

Pyrrha nodded, the words resonating deeply within her. She knew, then, that her training with

Arthur wasn't just about becoming stronger. It was about becoming more.

More resilient, more adaptable, more prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead.

And for the first time, she felt a quiet confidence that she could face them, no matter how formidable they might be.

...

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