A hush fell over the forest as the four companions paused beneath the dense canopy. Twisted tree roots and mossy undergrowth, while rustling leaves and distant bird calls stood in for echoing footsteps. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and faint beams of sunlight filtered through gaps in the foliage, casting long, wavering shadows.
Markus turned his head slightly, a thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “I can sense numerous powerful individuals nearby,” he said quietly. “If we play our cards right, they could make excellent allies.”
Isaac’s shoulders tensed, his gaze drifting deeper into the forest’s tangled depths. “I recognize one of them,” he murmured, voice tight. “Things will be difficult if we meet her. She’ll definitely try to eliminate us.”
Karma glanced over, one brow raised. “Is it Lyra?”
“It is indeed,” Isaac confirmed, sighing. “She’s pretty angry with me. It’s all my fault.”
Markus adjusted his stance, boots sinking softly into the fern-laden ground. “You know Lyra? We grew up in the same territory. I’m sure I could reason with her, as long as you didn’t commit some truly unforgivable act.”
Isaac grimaced, his eyes reflecting quiet regret. “I’d rather not take my chances.”
Kenji, leaning against a wide tree trunk, folding his arms over his chest, asked bluntly, “How badly did you screw things up?”
Isaac exhaled, the forest’s silence wrapping around them like a veil. “Very badly,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He glanced at Karma, resolve hardening in his features. “We have no other choice. Karma, bring out the ‘space whale.’”
Kenji and Markus exchanged baffled looks, speaking in unison, “Space whale?” The notion seemed utterly foreign in this shadowed grove, where twisted branches and brush whispered secrets to the breeze.
“Don’t call it that,” Karma sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, whatever. Awaken medium-class spatial spirit: Pluto.”
Karma stretched out his hand. The hush of the forest grew even quieter, as if the woodland itself held its breath. Suddenly, the space beside them shimmered. A medium-sized whale appeared, floating a hand’s breadth above the ground, its body swirling with galaxies and distant starscapes, as if a fragment of the cosmos had drifted into this earthly realm. It had four graceful fins and a vast, gaping mouth reminiscent of a black hole, ready to swallow light and matter alike. The soft hum it emitted was like distant cosmic winds passing through ancient treetops.
The forest’s pale sunlight played over its cosmic skin, highlighting flickering constellations that winked in and out of existence beneath its translucent surface. It circled Karma lazily, star-flecked fins stirring up motes of silvery pollen from the nearby ferns.
“Thank you. I’ll be right back—just give me a moment,” Isaac said calmly, stepping into Pluto’s cosmic embrace. The strange whale-like spirit shimmered softly, starlit patterns rippling across its translucent body as it enveloped him. The forest’s murmurs faded to silence outside, while Isaac’s companions exchanged perplexed looks.
When Isaac emerged moments later, his entire appearance had changed. His once-white hair was now dyed a vivid crimson, streaks of scarlet glinting under the muted forest light. A jester’s mask concealed his features, leaving only the gleam of intent visible behind its eyes. His outfit bore hints of a pirate’s garb—loose-fitting trousers, a tunic with tattered edges, and sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. Across those exposed arms, intricate magical circles had been drawn in blood, their lines pulsing with a quiet, baleful energy.
“This shall be my disguise,” Isaac announced, his tone steady behind the mask. “From now on, call me Fyodor.”
“That’s stupid,” Markus snapped, his voice dry. “Even if you change your appearance, you can’t just alter your ability and fighting style.”
Isaac—Fyodor—chuckled, the sound muffled by the jester mask. “But I can. Karma has a high affinity with the spirit realm, allowing him to form contracts with any spirits. As his friend, I enjoy those privileges too.” He held up an arm, letting the trees cast shifting shadows on the blood-carved symbols. “Using my blood as a catalyst, I’ll summon demons from Gehenna. I’ll make it seem that demon summoning is my ability. As long as I have blood—and with my power, I’ll never run out—I can sustain these summons.”
Kenji crossed his arms, leaning against a thick oak trunk. “Alright, so why the ridiculous outfit?”
Isaac shrugged, unbothered. “Oh, shut up. Your outfit is no masterpiece either,” he retorted, rolling his eyes beneath the mask. He turned and began walking toward the nearby fight without waiting for another quip.
As the four of them set off, Karma leaned closer to Markus, whispering, “He really hates it when people judge his questionable fashion sense.”
“I heard that,” Isaac said, not breaking stride. He cast a mock glare over his shoulder, making the bells on his jester mask jingle softly. The others suppressed smiles. Despite the tension, their small band still managed these sparks of humor.
Eventually, they emerged into a clearing alive with chaotic motion. Four figures—Lyra, June, Mars, and Xander—were locked in a precarious three-way struggle. Flames flashed and lightning crackled as they tested one another’s mettle. Leaves swirled and scattered under their boots, the forest floor chewed by frantic footwork and errant strikes.
“Hello, hello everyone!” Isaac—Fyodor—called out, raising a hand in greeting. He made sure his voice carried a confident, cheery lilt as he approached the ring of contenders. “Good to meet you all. I’d like to propose an alliance to hunt down the sentinel.”
All four paused, startled by the new arrivals. The tension thickened as they weighed Fyodor’s words and the presence of his three companions.
Xander sneered immediately, looking Isaac up and down with a scornful eye. “I have no interest in teaming up with losers,” he snapped, launching himself at Isaac with a fist coiled for a brutal punch.
Before Xander could react, one of his blood-etched magic circles flared, summoning a ghastly demon’s fist from thin air. Sickly green and patchwork in appearance—stitched flesh and mismatched hues—it swung forward, connecting with Xander’s jaw in a dull thud. Xander hit the ground hard, a gasp rippling through the silent witnesses. With a flex of will, Isaac summoned part of that ghoul, a foot, stomping Xander into the dirt, and pinning him there.
Ghouls are vile, low-class demons condemned to the eternal torment of Gehenna. Once individual souls of the damned, they were twisted into grotesque amalgamations through an unholy cycle of cannibalism, consuming each other in a desperate bid for dominance. Their warped forms are a patchwork of mismatched limbs, jagged teeth, and hollow, glowing eyes, embodying the chaos of their existence. While ghouls are often seen as weak and expendable, they hold a dark potential, by devouring one another, they can ascend, evolving into medium-tier demons or even higher forms, becoming far more dangerous with each twisted transformation.
“So, care to team up?” Isaac asked lightly, adjusting the tilt of his jester mask. Behind him, Kenji and Markus watched in astonishment, while Karma held a careful, neutral smile.
Suddenly, June’s voice rang out, recognition lighting her face as she spotted Karma. “Hey Karma, remember us? We met earlier! Where’s your friend? Did he get eliminated?” She waved excitedly.
Mars leaned in, whispering to June, “I’m pretty sure the masked guy is his friend.”
June shook her head confidently, “Nah, I doubt it. Trust my instincts—they’re razor-sharp.”
Meanwhile, Lyra studied Isaac with narrowed eyes. “I accept,” she said, carefully deliberating each word. “You seem useful enough. I assume you’re a summoner specializing in demons?”
Isaac nodded, ensuring his tone remained even. “Yes indeed. You may call me, Fyodor. My comrades are also quite useful.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed as the name rang in her ears. It wasn’t just any name—it was the name of the protagonist in the cherished book she and Isaac had adored as children. The book, penned by none other than Sirius Blackwood before his descent into infamy as the world’s Fourth Apocalypse, had been a masterpiece of hope and imagination. Once hailed as a visionary leader, Blackwood had revolutionized the world with his contributions to literature, agriculture, art, and architecture. His words inspired countless generations, and his creations shaped the world’s foundation.
But time had warped his legacy. His name was now whispered in fear, and his revolutionary brilliance was overshadowed by his fall into madness. Yet, some questioned whether the true villain of that era was not Blackwood himself but the current emperor—the man who now rules with an iron fist, casting a shadow of oppression across the world.
For Lyra, the name was a spark of bittersweet nostalgia, tied to her fondest memories.
Moments later, Lyra, June, and Mars noticed Markus among the group. Their faces brightened, and they rushed over to him. June’s expression softened, remembering old times. “I’m glad we found another familiar face! I tried to locate Shadar and Sera but no luck.”
“With you joining us, this hunt is almost guaranteed,” Lyra said, a rare smile tugging at her lips.
“Oh, you know Markus?” Mars asked, curious.
Lyra nodded warmly. “Yes, we were close childhood friends before he moved away.”
Isaac cleared his throat, injecting a note of urgency back into the conversation. “Ahem, I hate to interrupt this charming reunion, but we should get started, don’t you think?”
“We still need to wait for the sentinel to come to us,” Lyra pointed out, folding her arms calmly.
“Nah, we don’t have to wait,” Isaac said, one of his magic circles beginning to glow faintly. He summoned a low-class demon in the shape of a fleshy megaphone. Its surface squirmed and pulsed, and a wet, organic hum filled the forest.
Handing the grotesque, fleshy megaphone to Karma, Isaac’s eyes gleamed mischievously behind his jester mask. “Provocation is your specialty, isn’t it?” he said, his voice laced with a wicked grin. “Take it away.”Stolen novel; please report.
Karma adjusted the pulsating megaphone in his hands, its organic surface writhing slightly, emitting a low hum. Clearing his throat theatrically, he began. “Ahem, testing, one two, one two. Can everyone hear me?”
The sound echoed unnaturally, reverberating across the forest. Every remaining exam taker froze, glancing nervously in the direction of the voice. Even the sentinel, who had been prowling through the shadows, paused mid-step, his sharp, predatory gaze narrowing in interest.
“Well, I’ll just assume you all can hear me,” Karma continued, his tone shifting to a mocking drawl. “So anyway… I just want to say—can that bitch-ass, limp-dick excuse for a sentinel hurry the hell up and get over here already?”
A wave of horrified silence rippled through the forest as his words reached everyone’s ears. Students exchanged alarmed glances, some instinctively crouching lower into their hiding spots, as if the sentinel’s wrath might find them by association.
“Karma, what the hell are you doing?” Kenji hissed, wide-eyed.
“Honestly,” Karma continued, ignoring him, “this entire exam has been a boring shit-show. I’ve already eliminated more than enough of these pathetic weaklings to pass this lame excuse of a test. So tell me, Sentinel—are you just sitting on your ass the whole time? Or are you actually too scared to face me?”
June turned to the group, panic etched on her face. “Um, are we sure this is a good idea?”
Mars, already pacing, looked ready to bolt. “This isn’t just a bad idea—it’s suicide.”
Karma, undeterred, raised the megaphone once more. “Oh, and look who I have with me! The one and only Kenji—the only guy to ever escape you. Come on, buddy, say something! Rub it in his face!”
Karma shoved the megaphone toward Kenji, who recoiled like it was a venomous snake. “Wh-what? Wait, no—I don’t know what to say! Don’t give it to me!” In his panic, Kenji threw the squirming device into the air.
Mars lunged forward, trying to catch it. “Someone stop him before he pisses off the sentinel anymore!”
Before Mars could reach it, a ghoul’s arm burst forth, snatching the megaphone midair and handing it back to Isaac. Isaac lifted it casually to his masked face, his voice calm but menacing. “Hey, old man. I’m going to cave your skull in, so do me a favor—don’t keep me waiting.”
As the last word echoed, Isaac’s hand clenched, crushing the megaphone. The grotesque device let out a low groan before dissolving into a pool of blood, tendrils curling upward like smoke.
“You two are insane!” Markus shouted, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is probably the worst decision I’ve ever been a part of.”
“Probably?” Karma retorted, incredulous. “It’s definitely the worst.”
Isaac shrugged, nonchalantly, the jagged markings of his blood magic faintly glowing as he turned to Markus. “It’s because we’re strong. Admit it—you’d be bored without us.”
Markus glared at him, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Fyodor, Karma… why did I ever team up with you two?”
“Because deep down, you love us,” Karma teased, flashing a playful grin. “And let’s be honest—we’re your best shot at surviving this.”
Various groups of students heard the bold provocation echoing through the forest. Some were intrigued, while others froze in fear.
“Oh my, how delightfully vulgar,” Charlotte said, her soft voice carrying a faint tone of amusement. Her long white hair shimmered faintly under the sunlight filtering through the dense canopy. “Though, I must admit, I’m glad others share our enthusiasm for hunting that man.”
Shadar grinned, his crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. “Indeed. Let’s go greet these beautiful fools. Maybe we’ll join forces—if only to see what kind of lunatics have this much courage.”
Alice, ever the voice of reason, frowned deeply. “Sir, this seems like an exceptionally reckless idea. They’ve just poked the most dangerous creature in this forest.”
Shadar shrugged with an easy laugh. “So was deciding to hunt the sentinel in the first place, and yet here we are.”
Charlotte stretched her wings lazily, a playful smile curling her lips. “I agree. If nothing else, it should be entertaining. Let’s see if these bold challengers can actually live up to their words.”
The trio began making their way toward the source of the commotion, the light-hearted banter masking the growing tension in the air.
Elsewhere, Deon and Cylene were having a much different reaction to the announcement. The amplified voice rang painfully in Cylene’s sensitive ears, causing her to clutch her head in discomfort.
“Are you alright?” Deon asked, his usually composed expression faltering with concern. “Your hearing… it must be overwhelming.”
Cylene forced a nervous laugh, straightening, despite the lingering echo reverberating in her skull. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Though hearing those words ringing so loudly isn’t exactly my favorite experience.”
Deon chuckled softly. “Should we assist those idiots? They’re practically begging for a fight.”
Cylene tilted her head thoughtfully, her orange eyes narrowing slightly. “They can handle themselves—for now. If they’re eliminated, the exam will likely end anyway.”
Deon leaned back against a tree, his posture relaxed but his mind racing. “True. Still, I think they’ve got a shot. Something about them screams ‘chaotic brilliance.’”
Cylene gave him a curious look. “You’re oddly optimistic about this.”
Deon smiled faintly, his Spear Lord composure unshaken. “Chaos attracts chaos. I’m excited to see how this will end.”
Meanwhile, in the observation room where the professors monitored the exam, the atmosphere was charged with a mix of amusement and surprise.
“That’s insane,” Fraser said, leaning forward in his chair, barely containing his laughter. “Do you think they have some master plan, or are they just suicidally confident?”
“They’d better have a plan,” Professor Jupiter replied, shaking his head. “After Akira’s son provoked the sentinel earlier, I doubt he’s going to hold back now.”
Akira, sipping his coffee leisurely, smirked. “My son was the strongest participant. If he couldn’t defeat the sentinel, these kids don’t stand a chance.”
Headmaster Ashe, ever calm and collected, set his teacup down with a small smile. “You underestimate them, Doctor. I have a feeling this group might surprise us.”
Akira raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “I’ll admit, that Isaac boy is intriguing, but I wouldn’t bet on him pulling through.”
Headmaster Ashe’s smile widened. “Speaking of bets… Shall we, Doctor?”
Akira sighed, exasperation clear on his face. “No. The last time I bet with you, I ended up working overtime without pay for a year.”
“Only a month this time,” Ashe teased, his eyes gleaming with humor. “But very well—I’ll wait to see if I’m proven right.”
Meanwhile, in the forest, the rest of the students, apart from Isaac and Karma, stared in stunned disbelief.
“You know, Dad’s ability is literally called Provoker, but you might just give him a run for his money,” June said with a nervous laugh.
“Yeah, I’d actually pay to see who’s better at getting under someone’s skin—this psycho or Dad,” Mars added, crossing his arms as he watched Karma smugly bask in the chaos he’d unleashed.
Lyra, however, had her eyes fixed firmly on Isaac. “So, Isaac, what’s your plan?” she asked, her tone cool but sharp.
Isaac froze, his posture stiffening. “Isaac? When did you figure it out?” he asked, trying to feign ignorance.
Lyra rolled her eyes, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Let’s see, your disguise is garbage. You didn’t even bother to hide your horns. Your fighting style still revolves around blood manipulation. And, oh, you used the name of our favorite book character from when we were kids.” Her golden gaze narrowed, piercing through him like a blade.
Isaac sighed, running a hand through his crimson-dyed hair. “Bring out the space whale,” he muttered, defeated.
“Space whale?” June and Mars said in unison, their eyebrows raised in confusion.
Karma sighed dramatically. “It’s Pluto. Not space whale,” he grumbled as he resummoned the medium-class spatial spirit.
Isaac disappeared momentarily into Pluto’s swirling galactic body and reemerged moments later, dressed in his normal clothing but keeping the magic symbols etched in blood. His head hung slightly as if disappointed in himself for thinking the disguise would fool anyone.
“Told you it was him,” Mars whispered to June with a sly grin.
Before Isaac could respond, Lyra’s hand snapped up, her draconic scales shimmering faintly as she delivered a resounding slap across his face. The sharp crack of impact echoed through the clearing, leaving everyone stunned into silence.
“That’s for being a stupid, stubborn jerk!” Lyra shouted, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and emotion. “Now, when this exam is done, you’re going to tell me everything. Got it?”
Isaac sighed, rubbing his cheek where her scaled hand had left a faint mark. “Fine. I’ll tell you. Everything.”
“Good,” Lyra said, her expression softening, though her hands still trembled. Before anyone could process what was happening, she grabbed him by the collar and kissed him, swift and sure. As she pulled back, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “And that’s because I’m glad you’re still alive, you idiot. I missed you. Don’t push me away again.”
The entire group froze, jaws dropping in unison as they stared at the scene before them. Even Karma, who usually had a witty comment for everything, was briefly speechless.
“Well,” Isaac said awkwardly, his cheeks blazing red as he struggled to regain his composure, “ahem, anyway, we should probably focus on the upcoming battle.”
“Smooth, Romeo,” Karma muttered, shaking his head.
“Shut up,” Isaac grumbled, turning away to hide his embarrassment, though the faintest smile crept onto his lips.
As the group prepared for the battle ahead, Lyra stepped forward, her gaze steady but determined. “Before we face this monster, we should go over everyone’s names, abilities, and class roles, so we can coordinate effectively,” she suggested.
The group nodded, a tense silence hanging in the air.
Isaac stepped up first, his eyes sharp beneath his horns. “My name is Isaac. My ability is called River of Styx. It allows me to have endless blood and manipulate it freely. I can heal myself and others and have a few extra tricks that I’ll show during the fight if necessary. My class is Hell Caller, which combines the traits of a Berserker and a Summoner.”
“I’m Karma,” the masked man said smoothly, leaning on his bow. “I specialize in fire spirits but can summon others when needed. I’ll act as a Curseweaver, it''s the multi-class of Summoner and Debuffer. My ability is a secret for now, but let’s just say it’s powerful enough to debuff our enemies and buff all of you.”
Kenji adjusted his gauntlets, smirking. “I’m Kenji Metallica. I’ve got two abilities: Forgery, which lets me recreate any item I’ve seen before, and Enchantment, which allows me to apply buffs to myself and allies. I’m the tank. Keep close, and I’ll keep you alive.”
Lyra smiled faintly. “I’m Lyra Tiamat. My ability, Heavenly Rain, lets me summon lightning to strike down enemies. I’ll be working as a ranger.”
Markus crossed his arms, his crimson gaze unwavering. “Markus Lovecraft. My ability is Compass. I can manipulate the direction of objects, making me a master of precision. I’ll act as a Deathshroud, a hybrid Assassin-Debuffer class.”
June raised her hand cheerfully, her phoenix-like wings shimmering faintly. “I’m June Jupiter! I don’t have an ability per se, but as a descendant of the Phoenix, my feathers can heal or unleash fiery destruction. I’ll be your healer for this battle.”
Mars smiled at June’s enthusiasm before speaking. “I’m Mars Jupiter. My ability is Masterchef. It lets me use souls to create weapons, I specialize in close-range combat. I’m a Berserker.”
Xander leaned against a nearby tree, glaring at the group. “Ugh… fine, whatever. Name’s Xander. My ability is a Self-Made Future. The more I believe I can do something, the stronger and more skilled I become. I’m a Berserker. And screw all of you.”
Adam Willow stepped forward, his spear gleaming faintly in the dim light. “I’m Adam Willow. My ability is Trumpeter. I summon the Grim Reaper to fight alongside me, though you won’t be able to see him. My role is Vanguard, a mix of Ranger and Tank.”
The group exchanged glances, a mix of tension and determination radiating between them.
But before anyone could strategize further, the shadows shifted unnaturally, the air growing heavy with an oppressive presence. Slowly, the Sentinel stepped out, his towering form radiating menace. His black armor gleamed in the dim light, his spear twisting slightly as if preparing for bloodshed.
Every muscle in the group tensed. The Sentinel had found them.
A cold chill swept through the clearing as they faced the towering figure of death itself.
“Prepare yourselves,” Adam said grimly, stepping forward. “I won’t go easy, especially after all of your trash-talking.”