The whims of fate wove an intricate tapestry, guiding the year''s strongest contenders to converge at a singular point. As each group navigated the dense forest, the pulse of destiny seemed to quicken, drawing them closer.
Shadar and Alice stepped through the underbrush, the crunch of leaves beneath their feet muffled by the forest’s hushed ambience. Emerging into a clearing, their gazes fell upon a woman sitting gracefully on a moss-covered tree stump. Her presence was ethereal yet unsettling, a paradox of light and shadow.
The woman had long, snow-white hair cascading over her shoulders, stark against her pallid skin. Her eyes were pools of inky black, devoid of light, radiating a quiet intensity that seemed to pierce through the soul. She wore a pristine white sweater, contrasting with the black face mask that obscured the lower half of her face. From her back sprouted two elegant white wings, their feathers shimmering faintly in the sunlight, while a faint halo hovered above her head like a ghostly crown.
Despite the mask and her unassuming posture, Shadar recognized her instantly.
“Charlotte?” Shadar’s voice cracked with surprise, quickly softening into a wide grin. “I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you weren’t attending!”
Charlotte’s dark eyes flicked toward him, her expression calm yet tinged with resignation. “I enrolled in secret,” she admitted, her voice soft and steady. “My brother would throw a fit if he knew.”
“You know you won’t stay hidden for long,” Alice interjected, crossing her arms. “Warren will figure it out by the end of the exam.”
Charlotte’s laugh was light and melodic, muffled slightly by her mask. “By then, it’ll be too late to stop me. I’ll have already secured my place.” She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand, a mischievous glint in her enigmatic gaze.
“Since you’re here,” Shadar began, his excitement bubbling over, “why not join us? We’re after the Sentinel. If we can regroup with Markus, June, and Mars, the six of us should have enough firepower to take him down.”
Charlotte tilted her head, considering his proposal for a moment before nodding. “Why not? I’ve already eliminated more than enough students to qualify.” She rose to her feet with an otherworldly grace, her wings shifting slightly as if reacting to her decision.
Shadar’s grin widened. “Then let’s get moving! We’ve got a mission to complete.”
Meanwhile, in a different corner of the forest, another contender moved with quiet precision. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back, and her dull gray eyes reflected a world she could no longer see. A brown trench coat fluttered lightly as she walked, her steps measured and deliberate. Perched on her head was a sun hat, shading her features, and her thin-framed glasses glinted faintly in the dappled sunlight.
Her only companion was a walking cane, which she wielded with the ease of someone who had turned their perceived weakness into a weapon. Despite her blindness, her every movement was precise, calculated. As the cane vibrated faintly in her hand, she swung it with a single swift motion. A burst of energy rippled through the air, striking a group of approaching students. Before they could react, their forms flickered and vanished, eliminated and sent back to the auditorium.
The woman exhaled slowly, adjusting her grip on the cane as if it were an extension of herself. Suddenly, the rustle of leaves and the faint hum of magic announced the arrival of someone new.
Deon Solace, the newly anointed Spear Lord, stepped into view. His piercing eyes scanned her form, noting the calm precision with which she carried herself. Yet his own heart betrayed him, quickening as he realized who stood before him.
The woman’s head tilted slightly, as though sensing his unease. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice warm yet inquisitive. “Your heartbeat increased just now. Do we know each other? Your breathing pattern doesn’t sound familiar.”
Deon faltered for a moment, heat rising to his cheeks. “N-no,” he stammered, his usual composure slipping. “This is our first meeting. But… if you don’t mind, I’d like to propose an alliance.”
“An alliance?” Her lips curled into a gentle smile, and she tapped her cane lightly against the ground. “Interesting. I’ll accept.” Her blind eyes seemed to glimmer with unspoken confidence. “I have a hunch you’re strong.”
Deon nodded, unable to find his voice as he adjusted the staff on his back. Together, the two began their journey deeper into the forest, their meeting just another piece in the grand game unfolding around them.
Elsewhere in the forest, luck had abandoned a student whose hiding spot was uncovered by the relentless Sentinel. Sophie stood frozen, her long pink hair braided neatly down her back, her cat-like eyes wide with terror. The pink dress she wore fluttered slightly in the forest breeze, her feline ears twitching as the figure before she spoke.
“Spare me, please!” Sophie cried, her voice trembling as her hands clutched her braid.
Professor Willow tilted his head, his expression one of weary indifference. His eyes glinted like cold steel as he sighed. “Please, at least try to fight back. Otherwise, I might actually feel bad about this.”
Something in his tone spurred Sophie to act. Her ability flared to life, and with a flash of pink energy, a small battalion of animated stuffed animals materialized around her. Each one bore a unique appearance—a bear, a rabbit, and even a lion, all equipped with comically oversized boxing gloves. Despite their whimsical appearance, the punches they delivered packed surprising force.
The stuffed animals launched themselves at Willow in synchronized strikes, forcing him to sidestep and parry as their gloved fists battered the air around him. Sophie seized the opening, creating a string of shimmering yarn wrapped in pink energy from her hands. She flung it upward, latching onto a sturdy branch, and yanked herself into the air with feline grace.
Sophie leaped from tree to tree, her movements fluid and precise. Her cat ears twitched as she gauged the distance between branches, her tail aiding her balance. Her heart raced, but her agility carried her farther and farther from the Sentinel.
“I have to get away!” she whispered to herself, her breath coming in short gasps.
Behind her, the sound of combat ceased. A glance over her shoulder revealed the Sentinel standing motionless in the clearing below, his head tilted slightly as if studying her escape.
“You’re fast,” Willow called out, his voice calm and even. “I’ll give you that. But speed alone won’t save you.”
Sophie didn’t respond, focusing instead on putting as much distance as possible between herself and her pursuer. She swung low, using her string to whip around a trunk before vaulting over a fallen log. Her stuffed animals, trailing behind her like a small army, provided cover by flinging themselves at any movement in the underbrush.
The forest blurred around her as she pushed her abilities to their limit. She felt a glimmer of hope—perhaps she could outrun him. Perhaps she could survive.
That hope was shattered in an instant.
Without warning, a sharp pain bloomed across her side. Sophie gasped, stumbling as she clutched at her dress, now slashed open and stained with blood. Her cat eyes darted around wildly, searching for the source of the attack.
“What…? What hit me?” she whispered, her voice shaking.
A second slash struck her leg, and she collapsed onto the forest floor, her pink hair spilling around her. Her stuffed animals froze, their movements ceasing as the glow of her ability faded.
Willow emerged from the shadows, his steps slow and deliberate. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?” he said, his tone almost conversational. “The mind struggles to process what it can’t see. You don’t even know how you lost.”
Sophie tried to move, but her body refused to obey. She looked up at the Sentinel, her fear replaced by despair.
Willow crouched beside her, his expression neutral. “You put up a good fight. That’s more than I can say for most. Take pride in that.”
Before Sophie could respond, her form shimmered and vanished, eliminated from the exam.
The clearing fell silent once more as Willow stood, adjusting his gloves. “Well,” he muttered to himself, “that was mildly entertaining.” He turned and disappeared into the forest, leaving no trace of the chase that had just unfolded.
The exam pressed on, but Shadar’s cunning plan had thrown an unexpected wrench into its conclusion. The test could not end unless either Alice or the Sentinel was eliminated, creating a tense stalemate. Only a handful of students remained, their paths inevitably converging as the forest seemed to narrow around them.
In the observation room, the professors continued to monitor the chaos on the screens, their discussions punctuated by bouts of laughter and concern.
“I didn’t even notice Charlotte was participating,” Jupiter said with a chuckle. “Warren is going to lose it when he finds out.”
“She’s sitting at the second-highest elimination count,” Fraser noted, leaning forward to peer at her screen. “When we reveal the top five students, he’ll figure it out instantly. No hiding from that.”
The door to the observation room creaked open, and all eyes turned to the man who strolled in with a confident gait. His short green hair gleamed under the fluorescent light, and his sharp purple eyes twinkled with amusement. He wore a pristine lab coat over a sleek black suit, tailored to perfection, with crimson gloves accentuating his hands. His playful smile hinted at both charm and menace.
“Doctor,” Headmaster Ashe greeted, folding his hands on the desk. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”
“I’m owed a raise,” Akira Sanguine quipped with a grin, his tone lighthearted. “But that’s a conversation for another day. Tell me—how is my dear son performing?”
“He’s been sleeping through the entire exam,” Ashe said, shaking his head. “But that barrier of his? Impeccable. No one’s been able to lay a finger on him. Frankly, his power alone is enough to secure his entry—well, that and the fact he’s your son.”
Akira chuckled, brushing imaginary dust off his coat. “I’ll admit, his ability does come with… quirks. His sleeping habits are a side effect, but in terms of raw power, you’re correct—there’s no student alive who compares.”
“Doctor,” Jupiter began, his tone laced with a mix of respect and determination, “I’ve been thinking about this since Warren brought it up. How about a rematch sometime? I’d love to see how I measure up against you now.”
In an instant, Akira moved—too fast for most to process. One moment he stood casually by the door; the next, he was inches from Jupiter. His fingernail extended into a razor-sharp blade, hovering dangerously close to Jupiter’s left eye.
“I’m stronger,” Akira said softly, his voice steady but tinged with predatory confidence. “I can beat you in close combat, Leonardo. I can outmatch Fraser in long-range combat too. Make no mistake: if I had actually tried during any of our past matches, you’d be dead.”
The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Jupiter swallowed hard, his usual bravado dimmed but was not extinguished.
“Long-range combat?” Fraser interjected, breaking the tension with a scoff. “I’ll admit you’re strong, Doctor, but you couldn’t beat me in that.”
Akira turned his gaze toward Fraser, his smile widening into something more sinister. “Oh, I could. But understand this—if we were to fight seriously, at the very least, you’d lose both arms.”
Fraser leaned back, arms crossed, smirking despite the threat. “That’s fine. You can always heal them after.”
The Headmaster cleared his throat, redirecting their attention to the screens. “Doctor, it seems your son is about to encounter the Sentinel.”
Akira’s expression shifted, his interest piqued. He stepped closer to the monitor, his purple eyes narrowing as he watched the unfolding scene. “Well now,” he murmured, a sly grin playing on his lips, “this should be entertaining.”
Kel lay curled up in his blanket, hugging a plushie close to his chest. His breathing was steady, serene, as if the chaos of the exam hadn’t even grazed his subconscious. A faint smile graced his lips, his relaxed posture the epitome of unbothered tranquility.
Professor Willow, however, stood nearby, arms crossed as he observed the boy with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.
“I don’t know whether to be impressed or offended that you’re actually sleeping right now,” Willow muttered, shaking his head. “I thought the Doctor was crazy, but his son? Something else entirely.”
“Too... tired to... fight,” Kel murmured sleepily, barely lifting his head. “Please leave.”
Willow’s brow twitched at the audacity. He stepped forward, raising his arm-spear, the sharp, shimmering weapon glowing faintly with his energy. With a smooth, calculated motion, he thrust it toward Kel, only for the spear to stop abruptly, repelled by an invisible barrier that shimmered faintly with violet light.
“What the—?” Willow muttered, pulling his spear back.
The professor’s regalia, known for its ability to pierce through any physical defenses and shatter barriers, was useless against this. He inspected the boy with growing frustration as Kel shifted slightly in his sleep.
“Too much noise…” Kel mumbled, hugging his plushie tighter. “Please leave.”
Willow let out a low laugh, his eyes narrowing with glowing green intensity. “You’re actually making me angry now. I almost want to go all out just to see if you’d even wake up.”
Kel opened his eyes a fraction, his violet pupils glowing faintly. Lifting a single finger lazily, he pointed at Willow, as if barely mustering the energy. A sharp hum filled the air as a concentrated purple beam shot from his fingertip, streaking toward Willow’s head.
The beam struck with precision, creating a crack in Willow’s helmet, the first real damage anyone had managed to inflict on him. Though the crack quickly mended itself, the impact left Willow momentarily stunned.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“That... was a warning shot,” Kel mumbled, closing his eyes again. “Now leave.”
Willow straightened, his frustration morphing into a wicked grin. “You’re going to regret that.”
Lifting his arm high, he called out, his voice reverberating with power: “Awaken, Cú Chulainn!”
A flash of radiant light burst from his hand as the spear materialized, its form otherworldly. The shaft, twisted like gnarled roots, seemed to hum with the raw power of nature. The spear’s black blade glinted with malice, its aura wild and untamed, as though the very spirit of the legendary warrior it was named after craved blood.
“Allow me to show you my trump card,” Willow said, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I’ll unleash everything at once. Soul Release.”
With that, he plunged the spear into his chest, his body convulsing as the energies of Cú Chulainn fused with the already awakened Lancelot. The black armor encasing him warped, its elegant knightly design twisting into something feral and primal.
His helmet shattered, revealing his face for the first time. Adam Willow’s green hair grew impossibly long, turning a fiery red as his features took on an almost predatory edge. His ears, now partially armored, gave him an elven, otherworldly appearance. His arms transformed, large gauntlets forming over them with wickedly sharp claws that glowed faintly with a deadly energy.
But he wasn’t done.
“Cloak of Twilight, manifest!”
The oppressive darkness that had enveloped the entire exam site, trapping it in an eternal night, began to swirl violently. The dark aura collapsed inward, folding and coalescing around Willow’s body. The shroud of night wrapped itself into a flowing black cloak that radiated an ethereal, otherworldly energy.
As the light of day returned to the exam site, students all over the forest froze in shock. The unrelenting night had lifted, but Adam Willow now stood as a walking embodiment of twilight. His figure was pitch black, a moving void against the daylight. Every step he took seemed to dim the world around him, the air thick with an ominous, suffocating presence.
“Wake up now,” Willow snarled, his voice deep and guttural, “or you won’t get another warning.”
Kel shifted again, yawning loudly as if unimpressed. “Too... bright,” he murmured, pulling his blanket over his face.
Willow’s grin widened, a feral gleam in his eyes. “Fine then. Let’s see how long that barrier of yours will hold.”
Willow snapped his fingers, his smile widening as the ground beneath Kel erupted into jagged spears of shimmering material, each one honing in on its target with deadly precision. The spears, forged from the essence of his ability, shattered Kel’s barrier in an instant, the shimmering violet shield collapsing like fragile glass.
Kel rolled to the side with surprising agility, narrowly avoiding the attack. A scowl marred his usually sleepy expression as he glanced down at the tattered remnants of his blanket.
“You ruined it…” Kel muttered, his voice low but laced with irritation. His violet eyes opened fully for the first time, revealing a piercing, otherworldly glow.
In a blur of motion, a massive black scythe materialized in Kel’s hands, its blade long and jagged, shimmering as though forged from liquid nightmares. Before Willow could react, the scythe arced through the air with impossible speed, slicing cleanly through his arm.
Willow stumbled back, his severed limb falling to the ground with a wet thud. For a moment, there was only silence—then Willow threw his head back and laughed.
“Impressive!” Willow said, his voice rich with amusement. “The Doctor really did raise an interesting son.”
As he spoke, the severed arm twitched and writhed, black slime bubbling at the wound. The arm slithered back to Willow like a living creature, reattaching itself seamlessly. His armor, as though alive, flowed over the injury, reforming as if nothing had happened.
Kel didn’t reply. Instead, he raised his scythe again, his expression calm but focused. Shadows danced at the edges of the blade, writhing like they had a mind of their own. The air around him grew cold, a faint whisper of unearthly voices echoing in the distance.
Willow grinned, snapping his fingers again. The shattered ground rose into more spears, these larger and more numerous than before. They launched at Kel from all directions, cutting off any escape.
Kel, unfazed, raised a hand. The air shimmered as an ethereal mist spread outward. From it emerged grotesque figures—nightmares given form. A mass of writhing shadows with glowing, hollow eyes intercepted the spears mid-air, absorbing the attacks before vanishing back into the mist.
Willow’s smile faltered, only slightly. “Nightmares, huh? A bit creepy, but effective.”
With a flick of his wrist, another spear formed, this one crafted from a nearby tree. Its wooden form gleamed unnaturally as it shot forward, faster than the eye could track. The spear curved mid-flight, homing in on Kel’s heart.
Kel didn’t flinch. Instead, his scythe vanished, and he clapped his hands together. The dream-like mist around him thickened, forming a spectral wall that caught the spear just inches from his chest. He inhaled deeply, and the mist surged, dragging the spear into itself, where it dissolved into nothingness.
“You’re persistent,” Kel said, his tone sharper now, a stark contrast to his usual drowsiness.
“And you’re resourceful,” Willow replied, his grin returning. He crouched low, the aura around him intensifying. “But let’s see how long you can keep up.”
Willow leaped forward, his spear arm morphing into a jagged lance mid-motion. The ground beneath him rippled, erupting into more spears as he closed the gap with blinding speed.
Kel sidestepped with ease, his movements fluid and dreamlike. His mist-like aura thickened again, swirling around him as new nightmare constructs emerged. A towering figure with multiple arms, each holding a blade, lunged at Willow, forcing him to halt his advance and pivot to counter the attack.
Willow’s spear slashed through the nightmare like it was nothing, but as it dissolved, two more figures emerged from the shadows, clawing and biting at him.
“Clever,” Willow admitted, breaking free with a burst of energy. He snapped his fingers once more, and every shadow within a hundred feet transformed into spears, raining down on Kel from all directions.
Kel raised his hand, and the mist thickened into a swirling vortex. Each spear that touched it dissolved, but the sheer number forced him to retreat, dodging and weaving through the storm with acrobatic precision.
“You fight like a dream,” Willow taunted, slamming his spear into the ground and sending shockwaves rippling toward Kel.
“And you fight like a nightmare,” Kel countered, his voice steady as he summoned another scythe, its blade gleaming brighter than before. “Let’s see who wakes up first.”
The two clashed again, Willow’s relentless offense meeting Kel’s ethereal defense, neither willing to give an inch. The forest around them bore the scars of their battle, yet the outcome remained uncertain.
Kel’s body trembled for a moment, his ethereal mist swirling around him like a storm. Then, in a grotesque flash of violet light, a third eye appeared on his forehead, splitting his otherwise serene features. The eye glowed with a demonic, unearthly brilliance—the Philosopher''s Eye. Its gaze locked onto Willow, piercing into his thoughts, unraveling his memories like pages of an open book.
Willow’s confident smirk faltered for the first time as he felt the invasive presence clawing at his mind.
“That’s… new,” Willow muttered, his grip tightening on his spear.
Kel raised his hand lazily, his voice calm yet unnervingly cold. “Your mind is an open door, Professor. Let’s see what lurks inside.”
The mist surrounding Kel thickened, taking on shapes and forms pulled from Willow’s memories. Twisted, grotesque figures emerged—creatures from the battles of his past, exaggerated by the nightmare''s influence. Monstrous amalgamations of claws and fangs surrounded Willow, their distorted roars filling the air.
Willow’s spear lashed out, skewering one of the nightmares, but another took its place immediately. His movements grew more frantic as he was forced to contend with the ever-increasing horde.
“You think I fear monsters?” Willow shouted, cutting through another construct. “I’ve faced worse than this!”
Kel’s eye narrowed, the glow intensifying. “Have you?”
From the mist emerged a figure that brought Willow to a sudden halt. It was a woman—beautiful, serene, and achingly familiar. Her eyes, though hollow and lifeless, stared directly at him. She wore a simple dress, one he recognized all too well.
“...Marianne?” Willow’s voice cracked, his spear lowering slightly.
The nightmare figure tilted its head, stepping closer with an uncanny grace. “Adam,” it said, its voice a ghostly echo that sent shivers down his spine.
“Stop it,” Willow growled, his tone hardening as he tried to shake off the illusion.
Kel didn’t respond. The nightmare version of Marianne continued to approach, her expression shifting to one of sorrow. “Why did you let me die?” she whispered.
Willow’s composure shattered. “You’re not real!” he roared, slamming his spear into the ground. A wave of energy erupted from the impact, scattering the surrounding nightmares. The illusion of Marianne disintegrated, but her voice lingered in the air, haunting and accusatory.
Kel remained unfazed, the third eye glowing brighter. “You’re stronger than I expected,” he admitted, his tone devoid of mockery. “But even strength has its limits. How long can you fight against yourself?”
Willow snarled, his feral form surging with power as his armor glowed with a menacing red hue. “Long enough.”
The ground beneath Kel twisted into spears once more, but this time, they launched at impossible angles, converging on him from every direction. Kel raised his scythe, slicing through some, while the mist absorbed others. Yet, the barrage was relentless, forcing him to retreat.
As Kel dodged, his third eye flickered, focusing deeper into Willow’s psyche. From the mist emerged another nightmare—this one a hulking amalgamation of all the fears and regrets Willow had buried deep. A monstrous dragon, towering and grotesque, loomed over the battlefield, its form an ever-shifting mass of horror.
Willow gritted his teeth, raising his spear high. “I don’t care what tricks you pull!” he yelled. “I’ll break through them all!”
The dragon lunged, its massive claws swiping at Willow, who countered with a flurry of spears erupting from the ground. The clash sent shockwaves rippling through the forest, uprooting trees and scattering debris.
Kel observed silently, the scythe in his hand dissolving into mist. He raised his hand, and the nightmare beast roared, its attacks growing more ferocious.
“You fight well, Professor,” Kel said, his voice carrying an eerie calm. “But you can’t outrun your own mind.”
Willow smirked, even as he battled the beast. “I don’t need to outrun it,” he said, his aura flaring. “I just need to shatter it!”
With a roar, he leaped into the air, his spear glowing with blinding light as he aimed for the heart of the nightmare beast. The spear struck true, the creature exploding into a cascade of shadowy mist.
Kel’s expression darkened, his third eye glowing ominously as he prepared his next move. The battle was far from over, and both combatants knew it.
The battlefield was a storm of destruction. Spears continued to erupt from every surface as Willow’s power reshaped the terrain, forcing Kel to dodge and weave through the relentless onslaught. Kel’s scythe reformed in his hand, its blade shimmering with an ethereal darkness. The third eye on his forehead flickered ominously, feeding him insights into Willow’s every move.
“You’re persistent, Professor,” Kel muttered, spinning his scythe to deflect another barrage of spears. “But persistence only gets you so far.”
Kel raised his free hand, and the mist around him coalesced into nightmare constructs once again. This time, they took on more personal forms—various figures from his past. Each figure screamed accusations, their voices layered with unrelenting despair.
“You abandoned us!” one nightmare wailed.
“Is this what your strength is for?” another accused.
Willow snarled, his red hair flowing wildly as his aura flared brighter. “You can twist my memories all you want, boy. It won’t work.”
The Sentinel launched himself forward, his spear extending unnaturally to strike Kel. Kel dodged, his movements fluid and almost lazy, as though the battle were a game to him. He retaliated with a slash of his scythe, sending a wave of dark energy toward Willow.
The wave struck Willow’s armor, creating a deep gash, but the armor repaired itself almost instantly. Willow lunged again, his spear morphing into a jagged, crystalline shape that shimmered with lethal intent.
Kel countered by plunging his scythe into the ground. The mist exploded outward, creating a labyrinth of illusions. Shadows danced and shifted, each one a mirror of Kel, moving erratically to confuse Willow.
“Running out of tricks?” Willow taunted, slashing through one illusion only for two more to take its place.
Kel’s voice echoed from every direction. “Not tricks, Professor. Just inevitabilities.”
Suddenly, from the corner of his vision, Willow spotted a figure. This one was different, it wasn’t a nightmare or an illusion of his memories. It was a young girl, her long green hair flowing gently as though caught in an unseen breeze. She wore simple clothing, her eyes covered by bandages, yet her bright smile illuminated the dark battlefield.
“...Marie?,” Willow whispered, his spear faltering mid-swing.
The girl tilted her head, her smile unwavering. “Dad? Are you there?”
The air around Willow grew heavier as the dream-energy construct approached him. “Please stop fighting” she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and innocence.
Willow froze, his feral transformation trembling under the weight of his emotions. “Marie…”
The moment of hesitation was all Kel needed. His scythe materialized in the girl’s shadow, slicing upward in a devastating arc. The blow connected, tearing through Willow’s armor and sending him crashing into the ground.
Kel followed up immediately, summoning tendrils of mist to bind Willow where he lay. The mist coiled tightly, constricting his movements as Kel raised his scythe high.
“You let your guard down,” Kel said coldly.
Willow looked up, his vision blurring from the damage. But then, with a low chuckle, he grinned. “You almost had me, kid. Almost.”
Before Kel could bring his scythe down, a spear emerged from the mist, piercing through his chest. The attack came so fast Kel didn’t even register it until the pain hit. His third eye flickered and dimmed as his scythe clattered to the ground.
Willow rose to his feet, black blood dripping from his wounds but his grin intact. “You’re strong. Stronger than most of the students here.”
Kel coughed, his body trembling as the dream-energy construct of the girl dissolved into mist. His gaze softened as he slumped to his knees. “I… just wanted to nap” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
Willow stood over him, his spear glowing faintly as he prepared to deliver the final blow. “You did well, Kel. You should be proud.”
With a final thrust, the battle ended, and Kel''s body vanished in a burst of light as he was eliminated from the exam. The mist dissipated, leaving Willow alone on the battlefield. He looked at the spot where the dream construct of his daughter had stood, his expression briefly softening before he turned away, ready for the next challenge.
The forest was calm again, save for the faint rustling of leaves. Adam Willow—once the feral embodiment of night during his battle with Kel—now stood relaxed, his armor still crackling faintly with residual energy. His sharp eyes narrowed as he noticed a figure sitting casually against a tree trunk.
It was a young girl, her azure eyes partially obscured by loose bandages. She seemed wholly unconcerned by his presence, twirling a strand of her long green hair as she glanced up at him with a mischievous smirk.
“Marie,” Adam said, his stern tone slipping into one of exasperated fondness. “Shouldn’t those bandages be tighter? You’re still recovering.”
“Dad, I don’t need them anymore,” Marie replied, rolling her eyes. “Doctor Sanguine already fixed my sight. These are just for aesthetics now. Cool character design, y’know?”
Adam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Only my daughter would keep medical bandages as a fashion statement.”
Marie chuckled and rested her chin on her hand. “I can’t believe you almost lost to that cheap knockoff of me?”
Adam’s lips quirked into a grin. “Of course, I faltered. How could I not when I saw my adorable daughter in the middle of this exam?” He crossed his arms, his expression softening briefly before shifting back to his duties. “Now, unfortunately for you, I’m still the examiner here. That means I’ll have to eliminate you.”
Marie groaned theatrically as she got to her feet. “Fine, fine. Let’s get this over with. But before we start, I gotta ask—what’s the deal with that kid’s cat plushie? It was so cute! I was kind of hoping to convince him to let me have it before you wrecked him.”
Adam laughed heartily, his earlier tension dissipating. “You really are my daughter. Priorities always in the strangest places.” His expression darkened, though not with malice. It was the look of a predator preparing to strike. “But if you want to play, you’ll need to be serious. I’ve been holding back with the others, but not with you.”
Marie smirked and crossed her arms. “Oh, don’t worry, old man. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve too.”
Adam shifted his stance, his presence growing oppressive as raw energy radiated off him. The ground beneath his feet cracked as he prepared to unleash his power. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Marie, still smirking, reached into her pocket and subtly grabbed a handful of dirt. She tightened her grip as an emerald glow began to envelop the particles, her fingers trembling with barely contained energy.
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “What are you—”
In a flash, Marie flung the dirt at him with surprising precision. The emerald energy surrounding the particles caused them to accelerate unnaturally, piercing through his reflexive defenses and striking him directly in the eyes.
Adam recoiled, snarling in surprise as he staggered back, rubbing at his face. “Dirt? Really? You threw dirt at me?”
Marie giggled and gave a mock bow. “You’d be surprised what a little ingenuity can do, Dad. And besides, it’s not just dirt. You’re not the only one who can weaponize the environment.”
Adam’s vision cleared as his feral grin returned. “Clever, I’ll give you that. But it’s going to take a lot more than a cheap trick to take me down.”
Marie’s emerald aura flared around her as she readied her next move. “Don’t worry, old man. I’ve got more than dirt.”
The battle began in earnest, the forest trembling under the clash of father and daughter.
The forest became a battleground as Marie cracked her knuckles, the emerald aura surrounding her intensifying. She picked up a small pebble from the ground, her smirk widening.
“Alright, Dad. Let’s see if you can dodge this,” she teased, tossing the pebble lightly in her hand before hurling it forward.
Adam smirked. “A pebble? You’re going to have to try harder than that—”
Before he could finish, the pebble curved mid-air with a sudden burst of speed. It zipped around him, striking the back of his knee with pinpoint precision, forcing him to shift his stance.
“Not bad,” Adam admitted, rolling his shoulder. “But you’re going to need a lot more if you want to take me down.”
Marie picked up a handful of acorns, her aura enveloping them as they began to float in front of her like ammunition. She snapped her fingers, sending them flying toward Adam in erratic, unpredictable patterns.
Adam’s eyes gleamed with excitement. He sidestepped the first acorn, deflected the second with his gauntlet, and caught the third in mid-air. “Nice party trick, but predictable—”
The acorn he caught suddenly veered on its own, striking him in the side of the head. He grunted in surprise as the rest of the acorns pelted him, landing clean hits on his arms and chest.
Marie clapped her hands together, laughing. “You were saying, old man?”
Adam’s grin turned feral. “Alright, enough playing around.”
In an instant, he vanished, his speed too fast for Marie’s eyes to follow. The ground cracked beneath her as Adam reappeared behind her, his hand reaching out to grab her shoulder.
Marie whipped around, throwing a pinecone directly at his face, but Adam tilted his head slightly, dodging it.
“Not this time.” His hand clamped onto her wrist, locking her in place.
Marie struggled, trying to aim a pebble at his leg, but Adam twisted her arm gently, disarming her momentum.
“You’re clever, kid. I’ll give you that. But you’re still a few decades too early to beat me.” His voice was calm but carried a note of finality.
With a sudden burst of energy, Adam’s cloak of twilight flared around them, the oppressive weight of his power forcing Marie to her knees.
“Dad, you don’t have to go so hard—” she started, only for Adam to release her wrist and place a hand on her head.
“Sorry, Marie. Exam rules.”
With a soft pulse of energy, Marie’s aura flickered and vanished, the force of his attack enough to disqualify her without causing harm.
Marie sighed, her playful demeanor returning as she appeared back in the auditorium “He was way too powerful”