"You are their weakest link, right?" Ken sneered, his sword glinting in the dappled sunlight of the forest. "Time for you to learn your place." With that, he lunged, his blade a silver blur.
Sentry, surprisingly agile, dodged Ken's initial assault. He moved with a grace that belied his unassuming demeanor, weaving around each strike. Ken's attacks intensified, becoming a relentless barrage of precise thrusts and slashes. As Ken's piercing attack, a signature move, came hurtling towards him, Sentry felt a pang of despair. It was going to be difficult to dodge.
Suddenly, a torrent of memories flooded his mind. As a child, Sentry had been timid, prone to tears at the slightest hurt. His father, a ruthless swordsman, had been relentless in his desire to teach Sentry the blade. He'd been forced into constant sparring, his father's sword leaving cuts all over his body, each wound a painful lesson in his perceived weakness. After a few weeks, the torment had inexplicably ceased. Sentry had foolishly believed it was over. But then came the fated day. The day he had touched his father's sword. The day he had killed him.
He had later realized it wasn't that his father had stopped the torment; rather, his own personality had fractured. One part of him, the Sentry everyone knew, a timid boy learning the sword, and another, a dark, primal self, reveled in the fight. A nearby swordsman, sensing the terrifying potential within him, had approached. "I want you as my disciple," the swordsman had declared. Sentry, terrified, had wept. "No, I don't want to touch the sword. I don't want anything to do with weapons and fighting."
The swordsman's voice had been laced with a chilling challenge. "So, are you going to give up, just like that? Fine, go ahead and run. But remember, once you start running, you can't stop. You will keep running until your legs give out, and then there will be no one with you." Sentry had sobbed, his small body wracked with fear. "However," the swordsman had continued, his voice softening slightly, "you have a chance here and now. Make new connections and learn to sacrifice for your friends." Sentry had looked up, tears blurring his vision. "Get ready to hold the sword you fear," the swordsman had urged, his words a haunting prophecy, "not to kill, but to protect your loved ones. Are you ready?"
From that moment until now, Sentry had never touched a sword. He had entered the academy through a backdoor, carefully avoiding the sword ceremony, terrified of unleashing the hidden monster within.
Now, as Ken's piercing attack rushed towards him, Kaiser's and Adriel's faces flashed through his mind, and all the time they had spent together. On the light screen, visible to the entire academy, everyone cheered for Ken's victory. But Sentry's master, watching intently, thought, "Sentry, I know you can do it."
With a sudden, almost imperceptible shift, Sentry dodged the piercing attack. His face hardened, the timid expression replaced by something cold and resolute. "Fine," he said, his voice low and guttural. "You want to fight? I will give you the fight of your life."
He reached to his side, his hand grasping a sword that seemingly materialized from thin air. As he pulled it free, a chilling laugh escaped his lips. His eyes, fixed on Ken, shone with a mad gleam. "So, you are my opponent?" Sentry's voice, devoid of its usual timidity, sent shivers down Ken's spine. "In how many pieces can I cut your flesh?"
Ken's smirk faltered, replaced by a look of bewildered fear. "What do you mean?" he stammered. "You can't kill, according to the rules!"
"I don't care about rules," Sentry snarled, and he attacked. His sword strikes were a furious, chaotic blur, imbued with a raw, untamed power that seemed to warp the very air around them.
The elders, watching the live feed with mounting alarm, quickly sprang into action, rushing towards the arena to intervene. Ken, sensing the terrifying shift in Sentry's demeanor, abandoned all pretense of sportsmanship. "If that's so, I will kill you before you can kill me!" he shouted, unleashing his own sword technique, a precise, calculated strike designed for a quick kill. But Sentry's wild, untamed power was too much. With a single, devastating strike, he cut Ken's sword in two.
Sentry let out a maniacal laugh, a chilling sound that echoed through the forest. "Your sword snapped in two! Now, time for you!" Ken's face paled, pure terror contorting his features. Just as Sentry moved in for the kill, an elder, arriving swiftly, intervened. With a powerful swing of his own sword, the elder deflected Sentry's blade, disarming him and sending his sword flying. Sentry, the surge of primal energy abruptly cut off, collapsed, unconscious. Ken, still trembling uncontrollably, stared at the fallen sword, his mind struggling to comprehend the terrifying power he had just witnessed. The people watching the screen were equally terrified, their cheers replaced by gasps of fear.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest, Kaiser, Hella, and Adriel had located the enemy's crystal. It pulsed with a faint, ethereal light, sitting vulnerable on its platform. Pierre, the last remaining member of Clara's team, stood guard, his expression one of confident vigilance.
"Give up, Pierre," Kaiser said, his voice calm and firm. Pierre turned, his eyes widening in disbelief as he saw Kaiser, Adriel, and Hella standing before him.
"How did you—" Pierre began, then a flicker of understanding crossed his face. "Oh yeah, I know! You dodged Clara and Frey to come here, right? You'd still be defeated!"
"Sorry to burst your bubble," Adriel interjected, a triumphant glint in his eyes, "but I defeated both of them."
Pierre's eyes widened further, disbelief warring with dawning fear. He drew his sword, charging at Adriel with a desperate ferocity.
"Let me," Kaiser said, stepping forward. He drew his sword and met Pierre's attack. Both their sword strikes were strong, a clash of formidable wills, but Pierre, fueled by desperation, seemed momentarily stronger. Kaiser, surprisingly, remained on the defensive, deflecting Pierre's relentless blows without attempting to counter.
"You all are just weak!" Pierre shouted, his voice hoarse with exertion. "You're just lying that you defeated Clara and Frey!" Kaiser continued to defend, absorbing the onslaught. Then, with a sudden, fluid movement, he attacked, trapping Pierre in a sword lock. With a powerful shove, he pushed Pierre back.
As Pierre stumbled, preparing his next attack, Kaiser began to kick up dust, creating a swirling cloud that rapidly enveloped them both. Soon, they were obscured, their forms lost in the swirling haze. "Trying to stop my vision, but I can still sense you with my Qi!" Pierre's voice boomed from within the dust cloud, confident despite the obscured vision.
Suddenly, a sharp cut materialized on Pierre's belly, followed by the sickening sound of snapping steel. "But can you see this?" Kaiser's voice echoed through the dust. His own sword, now shattered, its destroyed blade, was pressed against Pierre's throat.
"You are defeated!" Kaiser declared, his voice ringing with finality. "Hella, time to destroy it!"
Hella's lips curled into a rare, triumphant smile. "I thought you'd never ask!" she exclaimed. She moved swiftly to the platform, her sword flashing, and with a powerful swing, cut the crystal in half.
A loud, shattering sound echoed through the entire arena, signaling the end of the match. In the crowd, a wave of shock rippled through the spectators, quickly giving way to anger. "They win? How is this possible?!" one disciple roared. "They must have cheated!" another accused. "The sorcery sword should be illegal!" a third shouted, their voices rising in a furious chorus. "They're just a ragtag group!"
As Kaiser and his team emerged from the forest, they were met with a torrent of curses and angry shouts. "We're very popular," Kaiser remarked dryly, a faint smirk on his face. Hella remained silent, her mind adrift in a strange, unfamiliar sensation – the powerful, exhilarating feeling of fighting alongside a team, of belonging. Adriel cursed them all in return, exchanging insults with the angry crowd. Sentry, however, his earlier madness now subsided, looked incredibly happy. His eyes found his master in the stands, and he gave a wide smile and a thumbs-up. His master, in return, smiled, a silent message of pride passing between them.