Seito Mei watched as groups of aspiring disciples crowded into lines, each one hoping to secure the approval of a master and earn a place in the inner court. Her heart hammered with a mix of fear and anticipation; she had faced rejection so many times from the deities, who had turned her away. If she failed here, it wouldn't stop her from becoming an inner disciple, but it would place her at a severe disadvantage without a master’s guidance.
“What troubles you, young disciple?” came a voice from nearby.
Startled, Mei turned and found herself looking into the eyes of the academy’s Grandmaster. How had she not sensed his presence? She lowered herself into a deep bow, struggling to keep her voice steady. “Grandmaster! I was… I was only debating which master I should approach.”
He gave a faint smile and gestured toward the far corner of the testing area. “I have a suggestion. There is a young Elder there—one who has yet to take any disciples. Why don’t you try your luck with her?”
“Thank you, Grandmaster.” Mei bowed quickly before hurrying in the direction he had pointed, her heart racing with a glimmer of hope. Grandmaster Hong watched her go with an amused gleam in his eye. Perhaps the academy’s most eccentric Elder would find an unexpected kinship in the determined girl with the cursed eyes.
Umi Nagisa leaned against a pillar, observing the rows of disciples vying for the attention of the other Elders. Her gaze swept over her peers—many already surrounded by eager disciples, some having over a dozen hopefuls vying for their approval. Her lip curled in distaste at the sight. A dozen students? What lunacy! How could one properly train that many disciples? Perhaps it was only something the deities among them could fathom. She, however, would take only one, if that. That was enough to deal with and keep them from growing arrogant or dependent.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the two young boys she had dismissed earlier, one of whom was nursing bruises from her rebuke. There was a momentary twinge of guilt, quickly stifled. She had her reasons for being harsh—it wouldn’t do to let them think her standards could be bent. As the youngest Elder in Phoenix Academy, she knew well how her position was scrutinized by the senior Elders; they watched, waiting for her to slip.
“Excuse me, Elder.”
The voice startled her, but she turned to see a girl with raven-dark hair and startling azure eyes looking up at her. Umi’s expression froze, then her lips quirked with bemusement. She recognized the girl from earlier—the one they called cursed. Surely this one wasn’t here to seek her approval?
“Elder, I wish to become your disciple,” the girl declared, her voice unwavering.
Umi blinked, concealing her surprise. So, the cursed girl dared to approach her after all. An intriguing choice. For a moment, her initial annoyance flickered into interest. The crowd around them, which had begun to gather, looked on with whispered commentary; they were all curious to see how the young Elder would respond to such an unusual applicant.
Umi Nagisa smirked, enjoying the attention. “Alright then. You,” she pointed at the boy she’d humiliated earlier, who perked up at her call. “Would you like another chance to prove yourself?”
“Yes, Elder Nagisa!” he replied, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, eyes bright with hope.
Umi Nagisa turned back to Mei. “Defeat him.”
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Mei's chest tightened. The boy’s hulking figure towered over her. His muscles were thick, his stance rooted and confident. With no blessing from a deity, he was still easily twice her size, and the mere thought of his fist landing squarely on her body made her throat dry.
She closed her eyes and offered a silent prayer to Vasu-Jin. Grant me your strength, Serpent of Venom.
When she opened her eyes, they were no longer the same. They were now a serpent's diamond-shaped pupils—deep, predatory. The shift was unsettling, drawing murmurs from the onlookers. Her gaze locked onto the boy in front of her.
His face twitched, and his body braced instinctively, eyes narrowing in suspicion. But Mei moved first.
With swift, serpentine grace, Mei darted around him, her every movement calculated to test his defenses. Her heart raced as she focused on his breathing—when his chest expanded, she knew he was about to strike. She circled, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, her hands pulsing with the venomous ki coursing through her.
The boy was waiting, watching, his movements slow but deliberate. Then, in a blur, he launched forward, swinging his thick fist toward her.
Mei’s eyes gleamed as she sidestepped, narrowly avoiding his blow. She leaped into the air, summoning her ki into her palms, and pressed forward, hoping to disrupt his footing with a strike aimed at his ribs.
But the boy had anticipated her move. In a blur of strength, he twisted mid-swing, catching her in the side with his forearm. The impact was like a hammer against her ribs, sending her crashing to the ground with a gasp. The crowd erupted into a chorus of laughter.
“She’s a weakling! No better than those outer court fools!” one voice jeered.
Mei gritted her teeth, her ribs aching with each breath. She scrambled to her feet, fighting the urge to let frustration overtake her. No, she told herself. Not here. Not today.
She glanced at the boy—he was already preparing for another strike, his stance wide, his confidence growing. Mei’s heart beat faster as she slowly moved, adopting a low, almost slithering stance. She would need to wear him down before she could strike.
Breathe, focus, and strike with precision.
With each step, she made him shift his position, forcing him to turn and reset over and over. His impatience was beginning to show; his breathing had grown shallow, his movements sloppier. It was a small window, but it was enough.
Her eyes flickered toward his exposed side, and she seized the opportunity. She darted forward with the speed of a striking serpent, slipping beneath his swing. She pressed her palms to his abdomen and released a burst of ki—a sickly green light that wrapped around him like a constricting coil.
The boy roared as the venomous ki seeped into his skin, but he couldn’t pull away in time. His muscles seized, and his breath hitched in agony.
“That’s all you got?” he sneered, his voice strained with pain.
But his words caught in his throat. His legs buckled beneath him, and he crumpled to his knees, his hands clutching at his stomach. The venom spread through him like wildfire, twisting his muscles in painful spasms, his face contorting in agony.
Mei didn’t hesitate. She launched herself into the air, twisting her body mid-flight, and brought her leg crashing into his head. The sickening sound of impact echoed through the silent crowd as his body slumped to the ground, unconscious.
For a moment, no one moved. The crowd was silent, stunned by the unexpected turn of events. The boy, who was easily twice Mei’s size, lay motionless on the floor. Mei stood over him, breathing heavily, her eyes still glowing with that serpent’s focus.
No one dared to speak.
Mei’s victory was not one of brute force, but of precision. The effects of Vasu-Jin’s blessing were invisible to the crowd, but their impact was undeniable.
Umi Nagisa raised an eyebrow, impressed despite herself. The cursed girl had proven herself in the most unexpected of ways. Perhaps this girl was more than she appeared.
The silence stretched on, the air thick with tension. Mei had won.