Deep within the labyrinthine wilderness of the Martial Bunny Dungeon, where the air now reeked of scorched bark, blood, and chaos, Roy Clifford moved like a hurricane of radiant destruction. Every swing of his sword hummed with purpose and force, cutting cleanly through flesh and bone as scions surged at him in waves. The wind carried the bitter scent of death, but Roy's presence burned through the gloom like a beacon.
His expression remained cold—focused—but within him, something more volatile stirred. Rage. Not the wild, flailing kind, but a deep, boiling determination that fueled his every strike.
'Emberfall is here. They're making their move. If I fall back now… if we all fall back now, who will be left to stop them later?' Roy thought, his mind narrowing to a sharp, unwavering edge.
His blade whistled through the air, slicing apart a leaping scion before the beast could touch his teammate. Blood splashed across the ground in violent arcs, its dark color shimmering with corruption.
"Nicole, stay close!" shouted Galen, the shield-bearer of the team, his massive shield humming with protective runes as he shoved back a lunging creature.
The scion's claws scraped against the shield in a burst of sparks, but before it could retreat, Roy appeared like a phantom behind it, his sword gleaming like silver lightning. A single slash—horizontal, elegant, perfect—severed the beast in two.
Nicole winced but obeyed, her hands gripping the edge of Galen's cloak as they pushed forward, inch by inch. The team pressed on, heading toward the dungeon gate, but the deeper they moved, the more unnatural the air became.
Something was changing.
The scions—once Early Rank 1—were no longer so simple.
Their bodies now pulsed with deeper essence. Their claws glowed faintly with corrupt energy. And their strength... their speed…
"Mid Rank 1, at least," Roy muttered, wiping a streak of blood from his cheek, his eyes narrowing.
Galen was slowing, his shield arm trembling from repeated impacts. Lyric, the support mage, was panting heavily, a flickering barrier of light flickering around the team. Avi, the ice mage, was holding off two enemies with scattered frost blasts, but her essence reserves were visibly draining.
Roy could have blazed through them all—could have ended the entire cluster of enemies in a series of devastating sweeps—but doing so would leave his team exposed. He had to control his power, limit his movements to precise, surgical strikes, always positioning himself between the enemy and his allies.
And yet they kept coming.
It was as though something was pulling the scions toward them.
Every beast they felled was replaced by two more.
Every tree they passed became another ambush point.
Still, Roy fought. Footwork smooth, movements balanced, breathing perfectly timed. His sword was no longer just a weapon; it was an extension of his will, reacting to intent rather than conscious thought. He wasn't simply swinging—it was a dance, a calculated, ferocious rhythm of survival.
But his eyes… his eyes began to glimmer, the first signs of his innate ability showing once more under pressure.
A silvery light etched itself into the pupils of his gaze, and the world slowed. Not literally, but perceptively. He could see the minutiae of motion, the twitch of a claw before it slashed, the flex of a tendon before a leap. And with this, he began to predict—strike, block, redirect, evade.
For a while, it worked. But even Roy had limits.
They encountered a new wave—Peak Rank 1 Scions.
Faster. Heavier. More coordinated.
They didn't just attack. They hunted, flanking from multiple directions, communicating with each other through clicks and guttural hums.
Roy stepped forward, parried three simultaneous strikes with one sweeping deflection, then skewered a fourth scion with a reverse thrust. His body moved like a dancer amidst a storm, but even then, sweat poured down his face.
His mind raced. 'If I go all out… if I use my full strength… they'll all die. My aura would draw even more to us.'
The scions were already too many.
He didn't need more.
They had to keep moving—but the team had slowed to a crawl, boxed in from all sides. The dungeon gate wasn't far, but it might as well have been across a mountain.
________________________________________
Elsewhere in the dungeon, Zara and Dame had finally found one another, carving a path through the remnants of chaos. Dame cradled Kara, limp and unconscious in his arms, her aura flickering like a dying ember. Her body had pushed too far, and now her spirit paid the price.
Zara's whip cracked through the air like thunder, cleaving three scions in half with a single spiraling slash.
Her expression was unreadable, but her fury was evident.
Dame's gaze sharpened as they approached a clearing.
"The numbers are thinning. They're consolidating somewhere else."
Zara nodded, eyes scanning ahead.
A group of ten children stumbled toward them—bloody, limping, but alive. They had fled the battlefield and now collapsed behind the two instructors.
Ahead, the dungeon gate loomed—but it was surrounded by corrupted chains, glowing with malevolent runes.
Yet at the gate's base, a glowing green dome of essence held strong.
Inside it: Logan, hunched, sweat dripping down his jaw, a sea of tiny, shimmering spider drones crawling across the dome's surface, repairing weak spots in real-time.
"Logan, you sweet genius," Dame breathed as they approached.
Zara twirled her whip and sent a ripple of essence outward, clearing a path through the last few scions who dared to approach.
Logan didn't even look up. "Five minutes. That's all I can hold."
Zara nodded. "That's all we need."
Dame looked to the gate's corrupted barrier. "Once I sever these fake celestial chains, the path will reopen. Then we escape."
Moments later, Denwen, Carl, and Tillo stumbled onto the scene, breathless, eyes hollow.
Tillo collapsed instantly, blood streaming from his thigh, barely conscious.
Dame dropped to his knees, checking his wounds, but one glance at Denwen's face told him everything.
"You lost her. And the boy… they took him."
Denwen only nodded.
Behind them, Jay and Melissa emerged, dragging themselves forward. Melissa's body leaned on Jay's shoulder, ashen, completely drained. Behind them, no one. Their team had been annihilated.
Then came Angus, Nero, Briggs, and Kelvin, running full-tilt from a pursuing group of scions.
Dame stepped forward and crushed the enemies with a single punch, his strength restricted but still more than enough to handle these scions, their bodies exploding into dark mist.
As the scattered survivors gathered under the dome, Dame slowly looked around.
Most of the student had all arrived but one should be here and strange enough he hadn't reached.
"Where's Team One? Where's Roy?"
Denwen's eyes widened.
"Nicole…" he whispered.
He turned, ready to run, but Zara's hand caught his chest.
"Stay here. We'll go. We'll retrieve them."
"Don't look down on the strength of your friend, boy," Dame added, his voice quieter now, strained with grief. "Roy will hold out. He's not one to die easily."
"But—" Denwen began, still trembling.
A hand rested on his shoulder. Angus.
"You're not wrong to be worried, Denwen. But trust him. Roy's more than strong—he's stubborn. He won't go down unless the world crumbles around him."
Then he looked to Dame.
"But some of our classmates are still trapped out there. We might not save everyone… but we can try."
Dame stared at them for a long, heavy moment.
Finally, he nodded.
"Just… don't die."
And with that, Denwen and Angus vanished into the forest, the trees parting around them as they sprinted toward where they believed Roy to be—toward the epicenter of the storm.
---
The forest floor was slick with blood and essence, the air thick with the stench of rot and the electric tang of exhaustion. Roy's limbs ached—each swing of his sword slower than the last, each breath harder to draw. His body, though honed, was beginning to falter.
Nicole's frantic voice echoed distantly as another wave of scions emerged from the blackened tree line, their twisted forms silhouetted against the flickering backdrop of chaos. Roy planted his foot, raising his blade with trembling hands.
Surrounded by several mid rank 2 scions, his teammates lying motionless on the floor, he could barely hear the sounds anymore—only the thudding of his own heart and the cold whisper of doubt beginning to curl around the edges of his mind. His mind stuck on the need to protect Nicole no matter what and hope, pray for any sort of help.
Just as the closest scion lunged, claws arcing toward his throat—it stopped. Mid-air. Frozen in place, suspended by unseen force. A soft wind cut through the carnage as a figure stepped calmly into the clearing.
Cloaked in long, scholar's robes dirtied only at the hem, Agrona stood poised with her glasses glinting, eyes unreadable behind the reflection of shattered moonlight. She offered no words, only raised a hand as half a dozen scions contorted unnaturally and collapsed. Roy blinked, swaying on his feet as Nicole gasped in relief behind him.
"Professor Agrona, thank goodness" he said heaving a sigh.
"You two come quickly follow me" she said crushing a crystal as a portal began to form.