Jariz moved before the sound of steel fully faded.
The moment the grand brother roared and stepped forward, something in Jariz's instincts screamed at him to reposition. He loosened his grip on the bowstring, slid backward, and climbed higher into the branches of the tree he was using as cover. Then, quietly, he shifted again, branch to branch, until he found a better angle.
Not to attack.
To survive.
From above, he could see everything.
The body of the younger brother lay crumpled on the ground, still warm, blood soaking into the dirt. The grand brother stood over it for half a heartbeat, then his grief twisted into something ugly. Raw. Violent.
Jariz swallowed.
Four stars.
That was the level he sensed from the grand brother before. Heavy aura. Dense. Crude, but powerful. The kind of strength built through brute survival rather than refinement.
Aren… Jariz glanced at him.
If Aren had mana, if his body could circulate aura the way it should, he would be close to four stars as well, maybe not in raw output, but in control, technique, and combat sense.
Jariz himself?
Three stars. At best.
Enough to hide. Enough to support.
Not enough to stand in front.
He shifted again.
And that was when the grand brother attacked.
The man did not roar a challenge. He did not announce himself.
He simply swung.
The axe came down like the fall of a cliff.
"Aren—!"
Aren barely had time to react. He twisted sideways, boots digging into the soil, and the axe missed him by less than a breath.
It did not miss the tree behind him.
The impact was catastrophic.
Wood exploded. The trunk split down the middle, bark and splinters flying in every direction as the axe buried itself deep. The sound cracked through the forest like thunder.
Aren felt it immediately.
Too close.
Too narrow.
The trees that had helped him earlier had given him angles against the faster opponent, but were now a cage. Every trunk was an obstacle. Every root is a trap.
This was not a fight of speed.
This was a fight of overwhelming force.
Aren didn't hesitate.
He ran.
Not away from the fight.
Away from this terrain.
The grand brother noticed instantly.
"RUN!" he bellowed, rage breaking fully loose. "RUN, YOU BASTARD!"
He tore the axe free and charged after Aren, each step heavy enough to shake the ground.
Jariz followed, moving silently from tree to tree, staying just far enough to remain unseen.
They crashed through the forest.
Branches snapped. Leaves flew. The grand brother swung wildly, cleaving through obstacles rather than slowing down. Aren ducked, rolled, and slid beneath low branches, his breathing already growing ragged.
He couldn't stop.
He needed space.
The forest began to thin.
The trees grew farther apart, the underbrush less dense. The ground leveled slightly, opening into a rough clearing near the edge of the woodland.
Aren stopped there.
He turned.
The grand brother skidded to a halt several meters away, chest heaving, eyes wild.
Jariz positioned himself farther back, hidden behind a cluster of rocks and low brush. From there, he could support without being in immediate danger.
The fight resumed.
This time, it was different.
The grand brother advanced with heavy, deliberate steps. His axe came down again and again, each strike carrying killing intent.
Aren met him.
Steel rang against steel, though the axe was closer to a slab of iron than a blade. Aren's sword bit, slid, deflected—but it could not stop the sheer mass behind each blow.
He struck back.
Once.
Twice.
The cuts landed, but shallow. Too shallow.
The grand brother barely reacted.
So this is the limit… Aren thought grimly.
Without mana, without aura reinforcement, his blows simply couldn't go deep enough. Precision could only compensate so far.
An arrow whistled past.
Jariz.
The shot wasn't meant to kill. It forced the grand brother to shift his stance, the axe lifting instinctively to block.
That moment saved Aren from a follow-up strike.
"Damn rats!" the grand brother snarled.
He swung again.
Aren blocked.
And the impact sent him flying.
His feet left the ground. His back slammed into a tree with a brutal crack. Pain exploded through his ribs, his lungs emptying as blood filled his mouth.
He spat it out and grinned.
"It's not over yet."
The grand brother's eyes burned brighter.
He charged.
They clashed again.
Aren fought differently now—shorter movements, tighter guards. He no longer tried to overpower. He survived. Dodged. Redirected. Endured.
Jariz kept firing, not constantly, not recklessly, but at critical moments. Each arrow forced hesitation. Each distraction prevented a fatal mistake.
Still, Aren was slowing.
His breaths grew heavier. His arms trembled.
Another clash.
Another deflection
The axe slipped past.
Pain tore through Aren's side. He staggered, dropped to one knee, his sword biting into the ground to keep him upright.
The grand brother laughed.
This time, there was no restraint.
He raised the axe high.
Jariz broke cover.
He ran.
Too slow.
"I'm not fast enough…!" Jariz screamed inside his own head.
"No, Aren! LOOK OUT!"
The axe fell.
And stopped.
Metal met metal.
The shockwave rippled outward, forcing everyone back.
A figure stood between Aren and the axe.
A red cape fluttered as the impact settled.
The grand brother stumbled backward, eyes wide.
"What…?"
A calm voice cut through the chaos.
"What is going on here?"
Aren gasped for air. Jariz skidded to a stop.
The woman turned slightly, her presence sharp, controlled, overwhelming.
The grand brother looked around, then understood instantly.
"You got me…" he muttered.
Aren's thoughts clicked into place.
That was why he ran.
Not just the terrain.
The distance.
The border.
If he could draw the fight closer to Yevell, there was a chance, just a chance, that someone would notice the aura being released.
And it worked.
Jariz stared.
"Who are you?"
The woman produced an insignia.
"Hana Rolbem. Red Knight of the Border."
She looked back at the grand brother.
"Impersonating a Red Knight is a grave crime. Attempting to extort and attack academy candidates makes it worse."
Her voice hardened.
"In the name of His Imperial Majesty, you are under arrest. Any attempt to flee will result in immediate execution. Drop the axe."
The grand brother's hands trembled.
He knew.
Six stars.
He was no match.
Slowly, he released the axe.
But his hand slipped into his pocket.
Hana's eyes widened.
"YOU!"
Too late.
The man shoved something into his mouth.
A small seed.
Hana's face went pale.
"Jariz, take your friend and move. NOW."
"What did he?"
"DO IT!"
Jariz grabbed Aren and pulled him back.
The ground shook.
BOOM.
Aura exploded outward, red, then almost a black aura.
The air turned heavy. Suffocating.
Aren's eyes widened.
Six stars.
No.
Beyond.
"Move aside, knight!" the grand brother roared, voice distorted. "I WILL KILL THEM!"
Hana drew her blade.
"I can't allow that."
The aura surged.
The forest held its breath.
The battle was far from over.