The fight between Lyon Alva, Cecil Treyaro, and Ximuss Yolte raged on with no sign of ending.
It wasn't a battle any of them wanted to run from.
By this point, they had all cast their respective infusion spells to increase their power.
Lyon had infused his axe with rock, making his swings heavier and more destructive. The drawback was that the weapon, once sharp, now acted like a blunt hammer.
Cecil had cast a lightning infusion, his curved blade crackling with electricity. Each strike carried the risk of paralysis—but thanks to Lyon's rock infusion, the demi-human didn't need to worry about being shocked whenever their weapons clashed.
Ximuss, meanwhile, had used light infusion, giving his arrows a subtle curve mid-flight. This allowed him to adjust their path and guarantee hits. It had already worked, landing blows on both melee fighters.
While the mohawk-haired archer kept his distance, he could feel the gap in strength between himself and the other two. He had only recently been promoted to the S class, and now the difference between him and the top students was crystal clear.
But that wouldn't stop him. He would become a knight worthy of his grandfather's legacy—no matter how far behind he was now.
Despite his disadvantage, Ximuss's pressure forced the duel to spill into the central region of the island.
Amidst their clashing weapons, Cecil stole a glance at the terrain, looking for an edge. The forest of dead trees ended here, cut through by a river flowing south. Beyond the water stretched barren ground—gravelly, uneven, and devoid of cover.
"Eyes over here!" Lyon barked, slamming a boot into Cecil's ribs.
"Ugh!" Cecil staggered back, his momentary distraction punished immediately. Lyon swung his rock-coated axe, the force shattering Cecil's guard and sending him flying.
But there was no time to recover—Ximuss had already loosed an arrow.
"!!!" Cecil twisted midair and barely managed to deflect the shot.
"Burn my enemies—all of them!"
"[Fire Rain]!"
Lyon's voice thundered as a storm of fireballs descended upon Cecil.
Still recovering, Cecil had no time to chant a counterspell. He sliced through the flaming barrage, sparks and embers scattering with each cut.
But this wasn't a two-on-one battle. It was every man for himself.
Ximuss released another arrow, this time aimed at Lyon.
"Ghhk!" The lion prince grunted as the arrow grazed his side. He snarled and shifted, retreating sideways to keep both opponents in view. "You pest!"
"Isn't this amazing?" Cecil laughed, blood still dripping down his side. "To fight without interruptions, against opponents this strong—truly the best!"
"Speak for yourself!" Lyon snapped. Unlike Cecil, who cared little for rank, the lion prince fought with his full focus on climbing higher.
"Don't say that, Prince Alva. We've clashed more than once now—I can feel how our bond is deepening. Not just with every fight, but with every swing of our blades!"
"I have no desire for bonds!" Lyon roared.
"Aw, come on! We were friends when we were kids. My lingers father and your father were close. We always saw each other at the royal meetings!" Cecil grinned.
The children of Terra's rulers grew up alongside one another. Even Cecil—though only Theo's bodyguard—had spent his youth mingling with princes and princesses.
"I'm not the same child I was back then," Lyon growled. "I have my own goals now. I don't have time for pointless fights."
"And yet, here you are—fighting us anyway. If you truly didn't care, this wouldn't be happening. Isn't that right, Mr. Yolte?"
Ximuss lowered his bow slightly, his expression awkward. "That's not my issue, Treyaro... but if I had to comment, I'd say you're not far off."
"See? He understands! This fight is proof our bonds are growing deeper!"
"No, it's not!" Lyon snapped.
Before their argument could continue, a thunderous roar split the air.
The three fighters froze, eyes snapping toward the dead forest.
Trees splintered and toppled as a massive beast tore its way through.
"A bear?" Cecil asked casually.
But this was no ordinary bear. A dire bear—larger, stronger, and far more feral than the others released on the island. This bear clearly was the alpha between the ones Franchesca and the dul of Theo and Elizabeth found. Its scarred body told stories of countless battles. Towering over the trio, its filthy brown fur clumped with dirt and dried blood, it was a living wall of muscle and rage.
Claiming its territory, the monster roared and charged.
Ximuss reacted instantly, loosing an arrow that buried itself in the beast's skull.
The dire bear bellowed in fury, rearing up on its hind legs.
Cecil and Lyon closed the distance in unison.
"Haaaa!" Lyon spun, shaking off the rock infusion from his axe. The weapon regained its sharpness just as he carved a brutal diagonal slash across the beast's side, cleaving it in half.
At that same instant, Cecil leapt high, his sword flashing.
In a single heartbeat, his blade carved the dire bear three times across its upper body before a fourth strike lopped off its head entirely.
The monster collapsed, torn apart—its torso split, skull pierced, head severed.
And yet, the moment of triumph didn't last.
"I killed it!" all three shouted at once.
"What!? No—I killed it!"
"I struck first!" Ximuss argued, pointing at the arrow still lodged in the skull. "My clean hit to the head was the killing blow!"
"The bear was still moving after that! Splitting it in two was what finished it," Lyon barked, gesturing at the monster's bisected corpse.
"Actually," Cecil interjected cheerfully, wiping blood from his blade, "a creature can remain conscious even after being split. My decapitation was the true finishing strike. Faster, cleaner, and final. Obviously, I killed it."
Once again, the three spoke in unison: "I killed it!"
Silence fell for a heartbeat.
Then, weapons tightened in their grips.
There was only one way to settle this argument.
At this moment, all three of them seemed to have forgotten their promises to fight Alen once they found him.
However, before their battle could resume...
---
"They killed it effortlessly," a man sitting atop a tree branch whistled, watching the three students dispatch the dire bear as if it were nothing more than a pebble in their shoe.
The man adjusted his position, stretching lazily. Even while standing upright on the narrow branch, his balance never wavered—his body so well-trained that such feats felt natural.
"Haa..." With a long sigh, he finished stretching. "It's a shame Crowbell restricted us to tier-two spells only. But... I suppose using siege type of spells in a test like this would be excessive, especially against such lively students."
The man was Enyoll Iaves, teacher and one of the examiners in this test. Though he was assigned the same area at the center of the island—the same area those three students where currently in—he was nowhere near them. To most eyes, they would have been invisible at that distance—mere dots on the horizon. But to an archer of his caliber, they were as clear as if he stood beside them.
"Still... I can't go easy on them. They're S-class students, after all," he muttered, reaching for his weapon. "Te strong have a standard to be held up to"
The bow he carried was enormous, towering over him by three heads in length. It was no tool for an amateur—only a master could wield it effectively.
And his arrows? To call them arrows was generous. They were spears in all but name, massive shafts built to match the scale of his bow.
"Winds of olden times, that first spread when spirits roamed the land we walk on. Bless my weapon with your own blood and body."
"[Wind Infusion]."
The tip of the arrow shimmered as razor-sharp currents wrapped around it, swirling with lethal speed. The spell would carry it farther and strike faster than any mundane shot.
"Jagged earth, wrap my weapon in your shards. Burst apart and scatter when the moment comes."
"[Fragmented Shards]."
A neutral-tier two rock spell. Stone spikes encased the shaft, ready to explode into deadly fragments after a set time.
Normally, two infusion spells couldn't be stacked onto the same weapon. But Fragmented Shards wasn't a true infusion—it was a temporary coating. That made it compatible with other infusion spells, combining both effects in one devastating shot.
Enyoll nocked the massive arrow and drew it back with practiced ease.
He inhaled slowly, focus narrowing on the battlefield below. The target point was chosen deliberately—close enough to wound all three students, while also giving them a hint of his position.
He was bored of waiting. Of course, long hours of stillness were nothing new to him—he had endured worse on dungeon expeditions. But here? Stirring the pot a little might just make things more interesting.
---
The arrow struck the ground.
And at that exact instant, timed perfectly by the elven teacher, the stone coating erupted.
Shards of jagged rock exploded outward in a violent spray, slicing through the air and striking all three students.