Titan Rumble Ch 40: Alpha Fight & Training

(Yuna)

Yuna slid into her stance, feet spreading wide, one arm raised to guard while the other hovered at her side, ready to strike. A faint smile curled on her lips—controlled, measured, the kind of smile that said she was confident this would be over before it began.

And yet, behind that mask, her body betrayed her. Heat surged beneath her skin, crawling across her neck, down her chest, and lower still. It wasn't the usual rush of adrenaline. This was heavier, warmer, distracting. She clenched her jaw, refusing to let her students see the confusion twisting inside her. Whatever this was, she would not let it interfere.

Her eyes flicked between the three of them. "Don't hesitate. If you want to find your aura, you'll need to fight like you mean it."

Nao was the first to move. Quiet as he often was, he didn't waste a second in charging forward, his fist cutting through the air with sharp precision. Right behind him, Emiko followed, her punch aimed straight for Yuna's jaw.

The impact never came.

Yuna's arms shot up in perfect sync, catching both strikes with her hands. Her palms closed tight around their wrists like iron clamps. "Too slow," she said evenly.

Then, in the same breath, she struck.

Her knee drove up into Nao's stomach with brutal force, knocking the air from his lungs. He went flying backward, clutching his gut as he rolled across the cracked courtyard. At the same time, her other fist lashed out, slamming into Emiko's face with a sharp crack. Emiko's body stumbled, then crumpled, her legs tangling beneath her as she tumbled to the ground.

For a heartbeat, the courtyard was silent save for the groans of the two students struggling  into push themselves upright again.

Kaito didn't wait. He surged forward, his fist shooting toward Yuna's face. She tilted her head just enough to let the punch graze past her cheek, her eyes locked on his every movement. He followed up with a sharp roundhouse kick, his leg slicing through the air.

Yuna dropped low, the kick cutting harmlessly above her head. In the same motion, her leg swept out, hooking around his ankle. With one pull, she yanked it out from under him. Kaito hit the ground with a heavy thud, his breath whooshing out.

Yuna straightened, brushing invisible dust from her knuckles. Her expression never faltered, but inside the heat pulsed stronger, hotter, almost suffocating now.

She stepped forward, her voice steady, cold. "Get up."

Her students groaned, but they moved, dragging themselves back onto their feet one by one.

"The training's not over," Yuna said, eyes sharp as steel. "Not until you've shown me everything you've got."

***

(Aurora)

Aurora stood with her arms folded, staring at the two girls in front of her. Rika, with her sharp glare and restless energy, and Satsuki, quieter, her hands folded in front of her as if she didn't quite know what to do with them.

Truthfully, Aurora wasn't used to this. She had never trained anyone before. She was the fighter, the Alpha, the one who charged headfirst into every challenge. Teaching was... foreign. But really, how hard could it be? You told people what to do, they did it, and if they failed, you corrected them. Simple.

She clapped her hands once, drawing their attention. "Alright, you two. Sit. Crisscross."

Rika blinked. "...What?"

Satsuki tilted her head, glancing sideways at Rika. "Crisscross?"

Aurora gave an exasperated sigh and made a little motion with her hands, folding one leg over the other as if it wasn't obvious. "On the ground. Cross your legs. Like kids do when they're told to sit. Do I need to spell it out?"

The two girls exchanged a look, somewhere between confused and amused, but they obeyed. Both lowered themselves to the cracked tiles of the courtyard and folded their legs over each other, sitting stiffly.

Aurora planted her hands on her hips and nodded. "Good. Now—this might sound strange, but the first step to unlocking aura isn't about swinging fists or breaking rocks. It's about feeling it. You can't use what you don't understand."

Rika raised a brow. "Feeling it? You mean, like... meditation?"

Aurora made a face. "Don't say it like that. I'm not some old monk telling you to sit under a waterfall." She took a breath, then crouched down so she was closer to them. "Listen. Aura is energy. It's what Alphas use to fight, to dominate, to survive. You don't have to create it yet—you just need to recognize it."

Satsuki gave a small nod, her eyes thoughtful. "So... how do we recognize it?"

Aurora smirked a little, the confidence coming back now that she had an actual plan forming in her head. "That's where I come in. I'm going to inject my own aura into both of you. When I do, I want you to focus—don't think about what it should feel like. Just notice it. Let your body tell you what it feels. The heat, the pressure, the weight. Whatever it is."

Rika crossed her arms, still skeptical. "You can actually do that? Just... push your aura into someone else?"

Aurora's smirk widened. "Of course I can. I've done it in fights plenty of times—you think people collapse because I hit them that hard? No. It's the aura that crushes them. You'll see."

The two girls looked at each other again, this time with something closer to determination. Then, together, they nodded.

"Alright," Rika said, settling her hands on her knees. "Let's feel this aura of yours."

Aurora grinned, holding out her palms toward them, a faint spark of crimson light already beginning to glow between her fingers.

"Good," she said, her voice steady. "Then get ready. Because once you feel mine, you'll know exactly what you're aiming for."

***

(Cain)

Cain could hardly breathe.

Every attempt to move left him glued tighter to the slick, pink wall of flesh beneath him. The humid heat pressed in from all sides, and every shift of Yuna's titanic body sent ripples of motion through the folds he clung to. It was maddening—humiliating. Back in the land of the Omegas, he had survived battles, traps, duels that could've ended him in a heartbeat. But here? Here he was nothing but a speck. A living speck, plastered against the cameltoe of a woman so enormous that even her sweat threatened to drown him.

Amazing. Humiliating. Both truths fought in his head at once. That he, Cain, a man who prided himself on composure and strategy, could be rendered helpless not by a sword or enemy—but by the natural fluids of a woman's body.

The thought nearly broke his focus. The folds beneath him grew damper, the musk thicker, the sounds louder. Every time Yuna shifted, they slapped faintly against each other, a thunderous sound to his tiny ears. The vibrations sent his stomach lurching. He grit his teeth, trying to keep his mind steady, but even his pride couldn't shield him from the truth.

"I have no choice," Cain muttered, his voice a hoarse whisper lost in the overwhelming noise. His eyes squeezed shut.

This was dangerous. Too dangerous. What he was about to do wasn't teleportation—not really. It was erasure. He wasn't moving from one point to another; he was carving himself out of reality entirely, then forcing himself back in. For a second, a minute, however long he could last—Cain wouldn't exist. The problem was that the longer he stayed erased, the harder it became to return. Push too far, and he wouldn't come back at all.

But staying here meant certain death. If Yuna so much as reached down absentmindedly, he would be crushed before she even knew he was there. That wasn't an end he was willing to accept.

His body flickered. A tearing sensation ripped through him, every nerve screaming as reality peeled away. His vision went white-hot, then black. For an instant, he was nothing.

Then he slammed back into existence.

The wooden floor caught him with a painful thud, the boards cracking faintly under his sudden weight. Cain groaned, rolling onto his side, his chest heaving. His body still burned from the reconstruction, every fiber of him feeling stretched thin.

"Where... am I?" he rasped, pushing himself onto his elbows.

The answer came immediately.

BOOM!

The floor shook violently, launching him several feet into the air like a toy tossed by a careless child. Cain flailed, landing hard again just as another BOOM followed. His ears rang with the deep, rhythmic thunder.

Swallowing his groan, Cain forced his gaze upward—and froze.

Towering over him was Emiko.

The girl's boot had just slammed down a breath away from him, the wooden boards creaking and splintering beneath her weight. From Cain's perspective, she wasn't the uncertain student Yuna had chosen earlier—she was a giantess, her form blotting out the light, every subtle movement magnified into something catastrophic.

His stomach turned cold. To her, he wasn't a person. He wasn't even visible, not unless she bent down to squint at the ground. To Emiko, he was nothing more than dust.

And as her foot shifted, the leather sole grinding against the floor with another earth-shaking creak, Cain realized with icy clarity: he wasn't safe yet. Not even close.