Miren stood her ground, unshaken, summoning her first Avatar Manifestation: Infernal Reaver. The scythe materialized in her grip, its blade swirling with molten hues of crimson, orange, and yellow, glowing like the core of a dying star. It was beautiful and deadly.
Harlan watched her with a smirk, amusement mixed with respect. He wasn’t one to be outdone, and with a flick of his wrist, his own manifestation took shape—fractured mirrors, each one warped and pulsing with dark energy.
"Vorthrax" Harlan declared, his voice smooth and cold. The mirrors hummed, their ominous glow settling over the battlefield.
Miren’s first strike came swiftly, the scythe slicing through the air. But Harlan’s mirrors shifted, deflecting her energy with ease, sending the molten light scattering harmlessly. He watched her grow frustrated, his smirk never fading. "You think this will work? My parasite Vorthrax can neutralize energy," he said, his voice like an ice shard in her spine.
Miren’s grip tightened, her eyes burning with determination. The scythe’s glow intensified, but Harlan remained calm. He wasn’t worried.
Then, a mocking voice cut through the tension.
Kael stepped from behind a boulder, casually glancing at the fight. "Is this what passes for a battle?" he scoffed, his tone dripping with contempt. "I’ve seen more excitement from a rat stuck in a trap."
The mocking words stung, and Kael’s eyes darted around, studying their reactions like a predator.
Lysan’s face twisted in rage. “Kael, you coward! You think hiding and mocking us will save you?”
Kael didn’t flinch, his grin sharp. “Oh, save me? From what, exactly? From you?” He gave a slow, mocking shake of his head. “You’re all so predictable, it's almost laughable.” He turned to Aria, his voice sharp and cruel. “What’s the matter, Aria? just waiting for someone with actual power to step up?”
Aria’s glare turned into a controlled fury, her bow crackling with energy. "Kael, you’ve got a death wish."
Kael grinned, his eyes cold and unblinking. "Death? You are not capable of giving me that."
Harlan, clearly annoyed, narrowed his eyes. "Enough, Kael. We’re past your childish games."
Kael’s smirk only deepened. “Childish? I’m not the one hiding behind mirrors, Harlan. Maybe it’s time you realized no amount of reflection will save you from the truth.”
Kael's eyes narrowed as he studied Harlan, a dark grin spreading across his face. “You know, Harlan, I’ve seen better personalities in a pile of stones. All that posturing and empty pride... Do you really think that makes you intimidating? How cute.” He tilted his head, his voice dripping with disdain. “If arrogance was an art, you’d be a masterpiece of mediocrity. Too bad it doesn’t make you interesting.”
Harlan's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing with barely contained frustration. "You really think you can get under my skin with that pathetic little act, Kael?" he snapped, his voice icy. "You’ve got a lot of nerve, but don’t mistake my patience for weakness. Keep talking, and I’ll make you regret it."
Miren’s gaze shifted to Kael, her expression unreadable but her voice cutting through the tension. “You talk too much,” she said, her tone cold and dismissive. “If you spent half as much time fighting as you do running your mouth."
Kael remained silent, his cold eyes locked onto Harlan with an unflinching gaze. He made no effort to engage with Miren’s words, nor did he respond to the challenge in her tone.
The silence that followed was thick with tension, but it shattered as Lysan lunged forward, his blade crackling with power. Kael’s eyes flashed, a dark smile tugging at his lips.
"Finally, a real challenge," Kael muttered, before swiftly sidestepping, his laughter laced with malice. “Let’s see if you can even land a blow.”
As Lysan charged, Kael moved with almost supernatural speed, disappearing and reappearing just out of reach. but his form flickered between them, an elusive phantom. The real Kael watched from a distance, savoring the chaos as his clone led them further into his trap.
Kael’s taunts continued to ring out, each word a barb meant to dig deeper into their pride. “You’re too predictable. Pathetic.”
His laughter echoed, and his shadowy manipulation had begun. The others, enraged and distracted, were falling right into his game. The real battle, he knew, was only just beginning.
But as the pursuit continued, the Kael they were all so eager to catch wasn’t the real one at all. It was a clone—another of Kael’s deceptive tricks. Hidden a safe distance away, Kael smirked, watching as the chaos unfolded exactly as he had planned.
The clone Kael, still running ahead, yelled back, “What’s the matter? You guys act like you’ve never chased a ghost before.”
Lysan’s face twisted in fury as he realized he'd been led astray. "You coward!" he screamed, slashing at the clone with his manifestation Stormclaw Saber, only for it to vanish into a harmless burst of energy.
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“Not so fun when you can’t hit anything, huh?” Kael's voice echoed from nowhere, clearly amused.
Aria scanned the area, frustration beginning to set in. “Where is he?”
Kael, in his hidden spot, observed with a dark chuckle. His plan was working perfectly, drawing everyone into a frenzy, unaware of the trap he was setting. The clone Kael, still lingering in their minds, was merely the start. The real Kael was already moving, preparing to strike when the time was right.
And it was only a matter of time before he did.
Meanwhile, Theoran, Elara, Darian, and the others approached the scene, curious about the sudden gathering of so many top-ranked fighters. Theoran, with his commanding presence, quickly assessed the situation. "What’s going on here?" he demanded.
Elara, her sharp eyes taking in the chaos, sighed in exasperation. "It seems our little instigator has been busy."
Darian, determined not to let his brother overshadow him, clenched his fists. "If Kael's involved, this must be part of his plan."
Kael, from his hidden vantage point, watched as they all fell into place. He knew the real battle was about to begin, and he was ready to seize the advantage. His style was all about control, and he had just set the stage perfectly for his next move. The real him was prepared to strike, using the chaos he had created to turn the tables and showcase his true potential.
As everyone gathered in the rough terrain, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. Harlan stood at the center, his dark blue hair whipping around him in the wind, his calm demeanor masking the excitement in his eyes. "Good," he said with a smirk, "I can take care of all of you at the same time."
With that, Harlan activated his second manifestation. Mirror-like wings erupted from his back, each feather a reflective shard that shimmered ominously. Markings appeared on his body, glowing with an ethereal light, and his eyes turned a vivid purple, giving him an otherworldly appearance. "Second Manifestation: Mirrorwing," he declared. This power allowed him to use his abilities without the limitations imposed by his first manifestation.
Theoran stepped forward, a dark, thick aura enveloping him. His body transformed just as it had during the entrance test, but this time the transformation was more defined. A serpent coiled around his neck, its eyes glowing menacingly. The aura pulsed with raw power, signaling his readiness for battle.
Elara was next. Her eyes crackled with lightning, and the weather around them turned stormy as dark clouds gathered overhead. Four tentacle-like structures sprouted from her back, each one buzzing with electrical energy. "Second Manifestation: Stormwrath," she intoned, her voice echoing with the thunder.
As the three stood ready, the air grew tense. The other participants, including Miren, Darian, Lysan, Aria, and the top-ranked students, all readied themselves for what was about to be a battle royale.
Kael watched from a distance, a smile playing on his lips. His plan had worked; he had drawn everyone together, setting the stage for a chaotic clash. The tension was palpable, and Kael knew that this would be the perfect opportunity to observe, learn, and perhaps even turn the tides in his favor.
The battlefield erupted into chaos as Harlan, Theoran, and Elara unleashed their powers. Harlan's mirror wings glinted in the stormy light as he launched reflective shards at his opponents, each shard capable of deflecting attacks back at its source. Theoran's serpent hissed and struck at anyone who dared come close, his dark aura creating an almost impenetrable shield. Elara's lightning tentacles lashed out, the storm around her intensifying with every strike.
Miren, nimble and precise, fought with her chained scythe, the weapon flashing as she swung it through the fray. The deadly chain wrapped around her target before she wrenched it back with brutal force, severing anything in her path. Lysan and Aria’s clash was relentless, each move lighting up the battlefield with their abilities.
Despite the overwhelming power displayed by the top contenders, Kael's presence was not forgotten. Harlan, catching sight of him, turned his attention momentarily. "So, Kael, still hiding in the shadows?" he taunted.
Kael stepped forward, meeting Harlan's gaze. "If you have the guts, beat me," he challenged, his voice carrying through the tumult. His words were a catalyst, drawing the attention of everyone present. Lysan, already enraged, turned his focus to Kael, followed closely by Aria. Even Miren and Theoran couldn't help but be drawn into the confrontation.
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Darian gritted his teeth as he barely managed to parry a strike from Morgath, the Wraith. His body was covered in bruises and cuts, sweat pouring down his face, but he refused to show weakness. Despite being surrounded by the two top-ranked students—Morgath and Eldora—Darian wasn't finished.
Morgath was a shadowy figure, tall and gaunt, his black cloak billowing with an unnatural wind. His eyes glowed an eerie green, like the glow of a lantern in a darkened graveyard. The wraith-like figure moved with inhuman speed, appearing to slip through the air, launching strikes from every angle, leaving no space for Darian to retreat. His ability, "Morgath the Wraith," allowed him to phase through the battlefield, vanishing and reappearing at will, making him a relentless opponent.
Eldora, on the other hand, was a living enigma. She was tall and slender, her features hidden beneath a cloak of swirling violet energy that distorted the air around her. Her eyes glimmered with a mysterious, shifting light—neither blue nor green, but a mixture of both, constantly shifting like a nebula. "Eldora the Enigma" was a perfect name for her, as her abilities allowed her to manipulate the battlefield itself. She could create confusing, mirage-like illusions and manipulate perception, making it nearly impossible to predict her next move.
Together, the two of them were overwhelming Darian, their combined abilities rendering his defense useless. He had already used most of his energy trying to dodge their attacks and counter, but they were relentless. Each strike from Morgath and Eldora chipped away at him bit by bit.
Darian found himself pushed to the brink. His breaths were shallow, his vision blurry, but something inside him flared. A burning frustration, a feeling of never-ending suffocation—it was all too familiar. "Why?!" he thought. "Why? Why must I always be the one?"
Morgath phased behind him again, his voice like a whispering wind, "Is that all you’ve got, Voss? You’re nothing but a stepping stone." Eldora’s voice joined in, teasing him like an echo in the back of his mind. "Such a disappointment... You don’t belong here. You're weak. A pawn to be used."
They were stalling him, stalling time so that the others could wear themselves out, fighting each other. They knew Darian’s strength, or rather, the lack of it. He was seen as weak among the top-ranked students, always just a step behind. They had made their calculations, and they were pushing him to his limits, knowing that he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.
Darian's eyes flickered with determination. He had been through worse, and he wasn't going to let them break him now. His hand trembled as he gripped his weapon tighter. His pride, his legacy—it all surged to the surface. He would not be a pawn.