The world blurred, the academy ground dissolving into green shadows.
Ansh stumbled forward, nearly tripping over a root thicker than his leg. His hands flailed, sword wobbling dangerously in his grip. "W-whoa! Who put this tree here?!"
Daav circled above, wings leaving sparks against the canopy. The little firebird chirped mockingly, as though saying, You tripped over a forest.
Ansh scowled. "Don't laugh at me! This place is—"
He froze.
From between the towering trees, three hulking shapes emerged. The same monster dummies from the Spirit Forest. Their eyes glowed faintly red, their heavy bodies cracking branches as they stepped forward. Their massive arms swung low, claws slicing through the undergrowth.
Daav shrieked in alarm, wings flaring. Ansh's throat went dry.
"N-no way… you guys again?" His grip tightened nervously on the sword Rajyugas had given him. The weight suddenly felt heavier than ever.
The dummies roared and charged.
"Daav!" Ansh shouted, already diving sideways as the first dummy's claw smashed down where he had stood.
Daav streaked forward, spitting fire at the monster's face. The flames licked harmlessly across its wooden surface, but it staggered, blinded for a breath.
"Nice! My turn!" Ansh lifted the sword, sprinted forward—and promptly smacked the flat side against the dummy's leg with a clumsy thunk.
The dummy didn't even flinch.
Ansh blinked, sweat dripping. "O-okay… maybe not my turn."
The second dummy swung its tail, sending him flying into a bush. Leaves exploded everywhere. Daav fluttered over, peeking at him through the foliage.
"Don't look at me like that," Ansh muttered, dragging himself out, twigs sticking in his hair. "I meant to… scout the bush for resources."
Daav tilted his head, unconvinced.
The fight raged on.
The three dummies worked together, cornering him against thick tree trunks. Every swing of their claws rattled the ground. Vines snagged his boots. Branches slapped his face.
"Why does this stupid jungle hate me?!" Ansh groaned, hacking at a root that tripped him for the third time.
Daav zipped around, spitting fire at branches to clear a path. Once, he aimed too close and nearly singed Ansh's hair.
"HEY! Watch it! This is my face!"
Daav chirped unapologetically and dived again.
Despite the chaos, something began to shift.
Ansh started noticing Daav's timing—how the bird would shriek right before a dummy's claw came down. How his fire distracted enemies just long enough for Ansh to reposition. How sparks lit the darker patches of forest, warning him of attacks from behind.
"Wait… you're not just being annoying, are you?" Ansh muttered, parrying a dummy's swing—barely.
Daav flared his wings proudly, then shot forward. His flames struck one dummy's leg. The beast staggered.
Ansh saw his chance. He inhaled, steadied his hands, and swung—not wildly, but low and clean.
The blade cut across the weakened spot. Wood cracked. The dummy toppled sideways, shaking the ground.
For a moment, Ansh just stared. Then a grin spread across his face. "We… we did it!"
Daav chirped triumphantly.
"Not bad, partner."
The other two dummies roared, rushing at them.
This time, Ansh didn't just panic. He watched Daav's flight. When Daav swooped left, Ansh followed right. When Daav spit flames high, Ansh swung low.
They weren't perfect. His strikes were still clumsy. Daav sometimes overcommitted, nearly crashing into tree trunks. Once, Ansh ducked too late and smacked his forehead against a branch.
"Gah! Jungle, I swear I'll burn you all down after this!"
Daav chirped sharply—focus!
Ansh shook his head, forcing himself to breathe. "Okay, okay. Focus."
The dummies attacked in unison. Ansh braced. Daav darted.
Step by step, mistake by mistake, they improved. Ansh's sword began finding its mark—not always strong, but placed with intent. Daav's fire stopped being random bursts, instead weaving with Ansh's movements.
When one dummy swung low, Daav shot flames at its face. It reared back, and Ansh drove his sword into its chest, forcing it to stumble.
When another dummy lunged, Ansh blocked shakily, teeth gritted. Daav swooped from behind, fire hitting the dummy's back. Together, they pushed it off-balance, long enough for Ansh to slash its legs.
The forest became less of an enemy and more of a training ground. Roots that tripped him now gave him places to pivot. Branches that smacked his face now hid him from sudden strikes. Daav flitted between them like a fiery scout, showing him openings he wouldn't have seen alone.
Finally, the last dummy towered above them, eyes glowing brighter as though angered. It raised both claws, preparing to crush Daav—just like in the Spirit Forest.
Ansh's heart froze.
"Not again…"
The claws fell.
"DAAV!"
Ansh surged forward. His legs screamed, arms burned, but he didn't hesitate. Daav's panicked chirp rang in his ears as the claws descended.
With a roar, Ansh swung his sword upward. The strike was awkward, raw—but fueled by desperation. The blade bit deep into the dummy's wrist.
Wood splintered. The claw missed Daav by inches, slamming into the dirt instead.
Daav shot upward, wings blazing. He exhaled a torrent of fire, coating the dummy's face.
Ansh gritted his teeth, following through. "Together!"
He swung again, lower this time. His blade connected with the dummy's leg, right as Daav's flames weakened the joint. With a groan of cracking wood, the dummy collapsed.
The jungle shook with its fall.
Ansh stood panting, sword trembling in his grip. Sweat poured down his face. His arms ached. But Daav perched on his shoulder, feathers singed, eyes gleaming.
They looked at each other, and for once, neither needed to speak.
They had won. Together.
Ansh flopped back onto the jungle floor, staring up through the canopy. "Ow… everything hurts."
Daav chirped softly, curling into his chest.
"But hey," Ansh muttered, a tired smile breaking across his lips, "we actually made a good team, huh?"
Daav cooed proudly, puffing his feathers.
Ansh laughed weakly. "Yeah, yeah, don't let it get to your head. Still… thanks. For not giving up on me."
The jungle fell quiet again. The dummies lay shattered. And in that silence, a bond deeper than words settled between boy and bird—partners not just in mischief, but in survival.