As the monster realized it couldn’t defeat Lorian in its current form, it let out a deafening scream, a sound so powerful it tore through the forest, reverberating off every tree and reaching its farthest edges. The air itself seemed to tremble, carrying the monster’s rage and frustration in waves.

  Miles away, Arsin and his team froze mid-step, the dense jungle around them suddenly oppressive. The overwhelming pressure of the monster’s mana hit them like a tidal wave, thick and suffocating. The scream followed, sharp and haunting, piercing through the rustling leaves.

  “This pressure isn’t from some beast,” a boy with glasses shouted, his voice cracking with a mix of awe and alarm. The nerd of the group, his spectacles glinted as he adjusted them nervously, his mind already racing to analyze the phenomenon. “It’s something far stronger!”

  Arsin, his jaw set with determination, exchanged a glance with his companion—a girl with sleek, jet-black hair that fell straight to her shoulders, framing a face as calm and composed. Her sharp, almond-shaped eyes betrayed no fear, only focus, her features striking with a quiet intensity. Without a word, she nodded, and the two broke into a sprint, racing toward the source of the sound, their footsteps muffled by the undergrowth.

  Back at the heart of the chaos, the monster’s scream faded into an eerie silence. The flames that had once licked across its massive form flickered and died, revealing a thick, magma-like skin beneath. It glowed faintly, cracked and rugged, as if forged from the depths of a volcano.

  “The flames... they disappeared?” Lorian muttered, his voice tinged with confusion. He stood poised, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied the beast before him.

  For a moment, the monster was still, its crimson gaze locked onto Lorian. Then, without warning, blue flames erupted from its body, surging outward in a violent burst. The azure fire wrapped around its magma skin like a living cloak, intensifying the heat until the air shimmered and the nearby foliage curled into ash. The temperature spiked, a blistering wave that made Lorian’s skin prickle even from a distance.

  “What is happening?” Lorian whispered to himself, his mind racing to piece together the transformation. This was no ordinary foe—its power was evolving, adapting.

  Steeling himself, Lorian tightened his grip on Shade of the Night, his trusted sword. His shadow, cast faintly on the scorched earth, began to twist and writhe. It detached from his body, slithering like liquid darkness toward the blade. As it merged with Shade of the Night, the sword’s already obsidian surface deepened, swallowing light itself. A black aura pulsed from it, cold and menacing, a stark contrast to the monster’s fiery heat.

  The monster lunged, its claws slashing through the air. The blue flames coating its limbs morphed, sharpening into jagged, nail-like projectiles that streaked toward Lorian with deadly precision. Each fiery spike crackled with energy, leaving trails of searing light in their wake.

  Lorian reacted in an instant, swinging Shade of the Night in a wide, fluid arc. The black aura collided with the blue flames, and the impact unleashed a shockwave that shook the clearing. Sparks exploded outward, illuminating the battlefield in fleeting bursts of light. The force pushed Lorian back, his boots digging furrows into the dirt as he braced himself.

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  Breathing heavily, he steadied his stance, his eyes locked on the monster. It advanced again, its movements faster, more ferocious, the blue flames flaring brighter with every step. Lorian dodged a claw swipe, then parried another barrage of fiery nails, the black aura of his sword clashing against the onslaught. Heat singed his arms, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to falter.

  In the distance, he sensed faint traces of mana—Arsin and the girl with black hair, closing in fast. Their presence was a lifeline, a promise of backup, but Lorian knew he couldn’t wait. This fight was his to endure, at least for now.

  With a deep breath, he poured more of his will into Shade of the Night. The black aura swelled, tendrils of darkness coiling around the blade. Whatever this monster had become, Lorian would face it head-on—his resolve unshaken, his sword ready to carve through the flames.

  The jungle clearing shook as Lorian launched into action. With a burst of speed from his Sonic Dash, he closed the gap between himself and the monstrous creature in an instant. His dark blade, pulsing with an ominous energy, carved through the air. In one swift motion, he slashed the monster’s hands, severing them with precision. The beast let out a guttural roar and crumpled to the forest floor, writhing in pain as its fiery claws twitched uselessly.

  Meanwhile, far from the island, the atmosphere in the academy’s main office was thick with tension. Professors clustered around a glowing map, their voices overlapping in frantic discussion.

  “So, no spell for teleporting the candidates is working?” one professor bellowed, his frustration echoing off the stone walls.

  Another nodded grimly. “Yes, we’ve tried everything. The spells won’t take hold on the island—it’s as if some kind of barrier is blocking all magic from the outside.”

  Their words hung heavy in the air, a chilling hint that this test had spiraled beyond their control.

  Back in the jungle, the monster staggered to its feet, its magma-like skin glowing hotter. Realizing it couldn’t win through brute force, its body began to expand, swelling unnaturally as a bright, menacing light pulsed from within—a clear sign of a desperate, self-destructive move. Lorian’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t let it detonate.

  Gripping his sword tighter, he swung again. Trails of dark mist flowed from the blade, slicing through the air like tendrils of shadow. The strike hit true, severing the monster’s hands once more. “Khhhhhh!” it screamed, its agonized cry reverberating through the trees as it faltered, the glow flickering.

  At that critical moment, a new figure erupted from the bushes—a black-haired girl, her expression calm yet lethal. “Ice Blade: Arctic Haze!” she declared, swinging her sword in a wide, horizontal arc. The ground rumbled as massive ice spikes surged upward, piercing and encasing the monster in a frozen prison. Its glowing form dimmed, trapped in the icy grip.

  Then came Arsin, charging forward with his sword ablaze with radiant light. He leapt high, his blade a beacon against the dim jungle canopy, and brought it down with devastating force. The monster’s frozen head shattered into countless pieces, scattering across the ground like broken glass. The beast’s body slumped, lifeless at last. The fight was over.

  Panting, Arsin scanned the clearing. His gaze darted to where Lorian had stood moments before, but the shadowy warrior was gone—vanished as if he’d never been there. “Was I mistaken?” Arsin muttered to himself. “I thought someone was there…”

  The black-haired girl turned her attention elsewhere, spotting a figure slumped against a tree. “Hey, Arsin, look there—it’s Princess Yenika,” she said, her voice steady. “She’s unconscious. She must be the one who fought the monster for so long and injured it this much.”

  Arsin nodded, though a flicker of doubt lingered in his mind. Yenika’s moon-themed blade rested beside her, its silver grip dulled by dirt and blood. She’d fought valiantly, no question—but had she fought alone?