"Fight me!"
"Try harder, is that all you can do?" Zaya screamed on top of her voice as she was in a solo battle with her five friends who were armed with swords while she held the sacred staff in her hands, using it to dodge and parry each of their strikes. They were slightly predictable—compared to Zaya, they were all just beginners.
They fell back at once, staring at Zaya like she was their prey. Zaya began spinning the staff frantically as she expected a joint attack. They launched toward her with intense force; she managed to hold their swords down in a position where the spear would pin them all together.
Zaya was being pushed to the ground due to the sheer force her friends carried. Unexpectedly, Ashara transformed to her half‑breed cat form. She became taller, thin white fur covering her body, neat as if plastered. A long white tail dangled at her back, whiskers sprouted from her cheeks, her eyes sharpened, nails turned to short claws. The extra push sent Zaya stumbling.
"Zaya smirked, is this all you've got?" She snarled, using nothing but her body's strength to push them all away, sending them flying meters from where she stood. The others fell, hitting the ground, but Ashara landed steadily on her feet.
Zaya smiled, transforming to her fox form. Purple fur emerged, ears standing on her head, fangs growing longer, muscles bulging, a fox tail sprouting from her waist.
"Show me what you've got, Ashara. Prove your strength," Zaya said loudly and launched at Ashara. Ashara dodged in the nick of time, sending Zaya straying to the right—she seemed too slow.
Zaya, still determined, sent a deadly blow toward Ashara's right side. Ashara dodged, moving to the left in a series of calculated steps that continued for a while as the others watched in amusement. Ashara then dropped her sword and gave Zaya a hard punch on her chest; blood sprouted from Zaya's mouth. Shocked, Zaya hit the ground, realizing she'd underrated Ashara.
Ashara smiled. Zaya stood up, stepping back a little. Ashara, elated, thought Zaya was backing down. Zaya tensed her muscles, they expanded forcefully, claws growing longer and sharper. She dashed toward Ashara with blistering speed; Ashara barely managed to keep up.
"Hey guys!" Zoey yelled, slightly startling them. "Don't forget this is my room." Zoey's room was massive, filled with decorations, accessories, a swimming pool, a mini gym, and part of it was a training ground.
Zaya attacked Ashara like they were enemies since birth, yet Ashara predicted every move of the savage Zaya. Frustrated, Zaya stepped back. Ashara readied her stance, waiting for another attack. Zaya threw two swords toward her; the second Ashara caught, Zaya unleashed the mighty growl.
*Primordial bloodline*
The whole place shook as Zaya brought out the devastating wind from her mouth, centering all the power toward Ashara's position. Ashara punctured the swords into the ground as deep as she could, holding on tight. Barely a second passed before she hit the wall far behind her, along with the two swords in both hands. The foundation of the building shook drastically—it was going to collapse any moment.
Ashara's body began tearing apart as she was still on the wall. She yelled, tensing her muscles hard, but to no avail. The cuts grew deeper, blood flowing out. She groaned louder, trying to get rid of the pain. It had been three seconds and this had happened. How would she restore the clans if she couldn't stop one fox?
She let out another deafening shout, but it was a whisper compared to Zaya's growl. Ashara's eyes turned blank; the others were now sure she was dead. Pauline yelled for Zaya to stop the growl, but Zaya didn't quit, knowing no half‑breed could die in their transformed state.
Ashara's eyes snapped open, brimming with white energy. She was in a trance, unaware of her surroundings. Her mouth was wide open, her energy‑filled eyes staring upward like she'd seen something traumatic.
To Zaya's shock, Ashara got down from the wall, hands twitching as the two swords reappeared in her hands. Zaya was shocked—Ashara had finally pulled it off, harnessing her ancestral gift. But Ashara wasn't fully aware of herself; she kept walking toward Zaya, fur glowing, the ground cracking beneath her. Even though it seemed she was walking toward them, it took her primordial strength to achieve that. Zaya was impressed, knowing how soft a cat's skin was. If Ashara hadn't harnessed her power quickly, she would have scattered into nothingness. Her sword looked still in her hands.
Zaya knew Ashara was striking and shielding each tremor the growl brought at an unseen speed—that was why she wasn't dead yet. Her speed was bizarre at that moment. Zaya stretched her left hand backwards, aiming for the staff far behind her. The staff rose, glowing, shot toward Zaya, and she caught it, dashing toward Ashara without stopping her growling.
All the others could see sparks from the clash of sword and staff, two blurry creatures—a shining purple and a glittering white. The battle was fast and dangerous; any mistake would lead to death. Zaya was happy she could keep up with Ashara's primordial gift but knew it would take a hundred years of consistent training to beat her.
"Ashara!" Zaya yelled, "Time out!"
Ashara kept fighting, not listening. It didn't take long before Zaya was hit and fell to the ground. Ashara stretched both swords toward Zaya's neck, aiming to finish what she'd started.