Gray stood in the middle of the training grounds, his boots pressing down into the packed snow. The air hung with a quiet tension, the kind that signaled something worth watching was about to unfold. Across from him stood a burly village guard, broad-chested and scarred from years of combat. A thick white line split the man's chin and disappeared beneath his collar, a reminder of a battle long past. He held a weapon that barely passed for a training tool. It was a hammer in shape only, more like a block of dense steel fastened crudely to a wooden shaft.
Gray rolled his shoulders slowly, loosening the tightness in his back and neck. He could feel the weight of the villagers' stares circling around him. Word had traveled fast. An outsider, one who survived the Pale Maw, was about to fight.
As for the Pale Maw, it was well known around the village. Like a boogeyman. The subject was nearly taboo.
Lira stood just off to the side, arms crossed and brow furrowed. Her sword rested across her back. She said nothing, but her gaze was sharp, reading everything.
A few other guards leaned against the wooden fencing that ringed the training pit. They whispered among themselves, some smirking, others genuinely curious.
The guard gave Gray a crooked grin. "Ready when you are, stranger."
Gray nodded once. The moment the signal was given, the guard charged.
He moved like a falling tree, predictable, heavy, but impossible to ignore. Gray shifted to the side, just narrowly avoiding the hammer's crushing swing. The ground where the weapon landed cracked, sending up a puff of snow and splinters.
He circled, not rushing. The man's power was dangerous, but his balance was uneven. Gray stepped in, feinted low, and darted right. The hammer came down again, slower this time. Gray slid past it and slammed the hilt of his wooden training blade into the man's stomach, then swept low with his leg.
The guard staggered, winded but not out. He grunted, spat blood, and swung wildly. Gray ducked, spun behind him, and landed a clean strike to the back of his knees. The man collapsed forward, catching himself with one hand.
Gray stepped back, panting softly. His heart thudded. Not easy, but manageable.
The crowd murmured, impressed. Someone clapped. Others exchanged looks of surprise.
But before Gray could relax, three more guards stepped forward, each of varying build and height. One had twin daggers, another wielded a curved axe, and the third carried a reinforced baton.
The tallest spoke first. "You handled one. Let's see what you do against more."
Gray's grip tightened on the wooden blade. He turned slightly to glance at Lira.
She frowned. "This is too much."
"It's realistic," Gray replied. "Monsters don't fight fair."
The three men circled him. The crowd fell silent.
Gray shifted his stance. His legs were already sore. He could feel the fatigue in his shoulders. The earlier fight had taken more out of him than he wanted to admit.
"Come at me you bastards!" He shouted loudly, it didn't matter whether they understood him. He was trying to provoke them.
And it clearly worked.
The first man moved fast. The twin daggers slashed in a blur. Gray blocked one strike but caught a graze across his forearm from the second. He hissed, twisting his arm to deflect the next.
The man with the axe came next, swinging horizontally. Gray ducked just in time, rolling beneath the blade and coming up beside the man with the baton. He aimed a quick jab to the ribs, but the baton cracked across his back before he could retreat.
Pain rippled through his spine. He stumbled, nearly falling.
He retreated, focusing his eyes. He forced the pain down, reminded himself what was at stake.
If he failed to beat three guards, how would he beat the nest of monsters?
He drew a slow breath and lowered his stance. His arms trembled, his back ached, and his vision blurred at the edges. He looked at the three men circling him, then let his mind drift. He stopped seeing uniforms. Stopped seeing their faces. He imagined claws instead of blades, jagged fangs where mouths should be. The way they moved, the sounds they made, it could have been any beast. Any nightmare. He let the fear shift into something sharper. Not rage, but instinct. The kind that had saved him before. When he opened his eyes, the men were gone. Only threats remained.
They came again.
This time, Gray didn't back away. He moved toward them.
He elbowed the dagger-wielder in the gut, twisted away from a sweep of the axe, then lashed out with a sharp kick to the baton-user's knee. One fell, the others regrouped.
Gray was breathing heavily now. Sweat chilled against his skin. Every joint ached.
They attacked in unison.
He blocked. Parried. Absorbed hits. He struck with the heel of his palm, slammed the hilt of his blade into a shoulder, then rolled beneath a lunging dagger.
Finally, with a surge of strength, he disarmed the axe-wielder, kicking the weapon aside and sweeping the man's legs out. The baton cracked against his side again. He turned with a roar and tackled the last standing guard to the ground.
All three were down. He stood in the center, chest rising and falling like a drum.
The crowd was silent.
Then someone clapped. Others followed.
Lira watched closely. There was something in the way Gray moved. A rhythm, a sense of calculated chaos. It was raw. Wild.
She murmured to herself, "Where did you learn that?"
A slow clap echoed.
Orrin stepped forward, leaning on a cane. His hair was tied back, his shirt sleeveless. His arms were wrapped in white linen. He looked calm.
"I'll top that," Orrin said with a rather rare smirk.
Gray blinked. "Wait, when did you get here?"
Orrin laughed. " Just in time for your spectacle. Pick five guards. Any of them, I'll fight them ."
Gasps spread through the audience. Lira raised an eyebrow.
"He's serious," Gray whispered quietly to himself.
Lira stepped beside him. "Enough watching. Let's go. You and me."
"Wait... what about my five gua—"
Gray's eyes widened. "Now?" He ignored Orrins words.
She looked away. "Unless you're too tired."
He grinned. "Never."
They stepped into the center of the grounds. The villagers quickly formed a wide ring around them. The snow beneath their feet had been trampled flat. Weapons were sheathed. They stood with only training blades.
No words.
Just breath.
Lira moved first. A faint glow lit her steps. She struck. Gray blocked, but her speed had increased. Their blades clashed. He countered, ducked, and tried to get inside her guard.
She spun, her blade slashing low. He hopped back, narrowly avoiding the strike.
He charged, pushing Vyre into his legs. His form blurred forward. His blade swung fast, testing her defenses.
She matched every move. Her expression calm. Focused.
Then her blade began to glow.
Etched runes shimmered with orange light. Heat surged from it.
'Her blade... is it... infused with Vyre?' He frowned slightly. He had never seen this before, neither had he heard of such a thing.
He let go of such thoughts and focused his eyes again.
Lira pressed forward. Her swings came faster, sharper. He blocked two, parried the third, but the fourth landed cleanly against his side. He grunted, stumbling.
She did not stop.
He ducked the next strike and tried to retaliate, only for her sword to knock his weapon aside.
She raised her blade, fire licking along its edge.
Gray gritted his teeth. He could not win like this.
He let her hit him in order to activate Severing Bloom. However, without the wristband. He couldn't see the system and activate it with his mind. He could only activate it with his instincts. Like how he had first activated it.
It was risky, a gamble.
A gamble he liked.
He remained still, allowing the attack to hit him.
Pain exploded across his ribs, but he focused through it. His weapon pulsed.
Severing Bloom ignited.
'It worked!' He
His blade seemed to shimmer pink, trailing streaks of flower-like energy.
He gritted his teeth, swinging with force.
But the blade met resistance.
Lira had blocked it.
Steel clashed with glowing steel. Sparks and petals scattered across the snow.
Lira leaned in. "Not this time."
She twisted her blade, runes burning brighter.
'Shit! I forgot she could block it! I have to move!'
But he was too slow.
With one motion, she disarmed him.
Then with another, her sword appeared just beneath his chin.
Silence.
Gray froze.
He exhaled. "You...win"
Gray let out a long sigh.
He was disappointed in himself, he had gotten greedy. And it payed him back.
Severing Bloom had almost never let him down. But it did now. And it was his fault.
'If I was just more patient, I could've...' he let go of those thoughts and shook his head.
Lira nodded and stepped back. "Good fight."
They glanced across the circle, Orrin stood tall.
Five guards lay unconscious or groaning around him.
Gray watched him, eyes wide.
'What... what the hell?!' He looked ahead with disbelief, Orrin had beaten five guards at once.
Whilst he calmed himself, a figure watching from the shadows of the longhouse.
The Kaan stood at the window, arms folded.
The outsiders was growing.
Stronger.