Northern Entrance To The Kendo Dungeons...
The forest at the northern entrance was thick with fog and the scent of damp leaves.
Bukanami Ao and Itoyea Pilton cut through the woods without pause, their footsteps barely whispering across the mossy ground.
They halted simultaneously.
Rustling. Footsteps. Voices.
"Where is he!?" Arizel Frost snapped, irritation scraping through his voice as he trudged forward with Whitney at his side.
Whitney's eyes glowed faintly. "Careful. I'm sensing heat signatures… close."
Arizel spun, ice blades forming instantly in his hands. "We got company!?"
Just a few meters ahead, Bukanami exhaled sharply. Whitney had sensed them despite their best effort to hide.
She's dangerous, he thought. Take her out first.
He leaned toward Itoyea. "Remember the plan."
Itoyea grinned. "Got it."
He vanished—Bukanami barely caught the blur of gold as Itoyea appeared right before Arizel.
The clash shook the entire forest.
THUMP!!
CLANG!!
The echo rolled through the trees like thunder.
Arizel's eyes narrowed. "You're not Itekan…"
He swung with brutal force, knocking Itoyea away. Itoyea flipped three times in mid-air, landing lightly before blitzing forward again.
Arizel backstepped fast, drawing Itoyea deeper into the forest—
But Itoyea was already mid-technique.
"Way of the Wind: 2nd Form — Thunder Claps!"
A thin crescent of sword aura carved forward, shredding the forest floor and felling several trees.
Arizel muttered, "Tch—fine then."
He flashed through hand seals.
"Frost Technique: Abyssal Wall!"
A towering glacier shield dropped before him, meeting the slash head-on with a deafening roar.
Itoyea's eyes gleamed.
Finally… someone my age who can keep up.
A Few Minutes Earlier…
Whitney hadn't expected the ambush.
The moment Itoyea's attack was parried, a crushing force slammed into her chest, freezing her in place. She gritted her teeth, shattering the shock with pure will as she snapped her gaze upward.
Bukanami crouched in the branches above her.
She growled and launched herself upward.
He met her halfway.
BOOM!!
Trees split apart from the shockwave.
Whitney reached into her pockets, flicking out three golden cards.
Random Draw: SSR
Reflect
Speed & Agility Boost
The moment she activated them, her aura erupted. Bukanami felt the spike in power and frowned.
She blurred forward, striking like a sledgehammer. Bukanami barely twisted aside, leaping off the collapsing branch before her punch cratered the trunk.
"Great… I hate fighting women," he muttered.
"But at this rate I'M the one who's gonna get folded."
He gripped his weapons—a glowing gold sword and a pitch-black machete wreathed in a violent aura.
Whitney's hands flashed—two copies of his weapons materialized in her grasp.
Bukanami froze.
"…That's broken as hell."
---
Back in the Stadium
Keel Kun's voice boomed so loud it nearly drowned the stadium.
"WHITNEY HAS WHAT!?! Not only can she spike her stats, she can COPY WEAPONS TOO!? This ability is CRAZY!!!"
He slammed the desk like it owed him money.
"AND HOLD ON—LOOK! Another Ranger trainee is approaching the Four Stars Academy Base!! Things are about to get WILD, folks!!!"
---
Back to the North Entrance…
Viktor stalked through the shadows, practically one with the darkness. His mission was simple: Shzekcl would draw attention while he infiltrated from the opposite route.
He didn't like Shzekcl.
Didn't respect him.
Didn't understand him.
Two years together in Rangers Academy, and they'd spoken twice. Once today. Once last week. That was it.
Emotionless. Antisocial. Rumored vampire. Rumored survivor of a clan massacre.
But in Frussia, emotion didn't matter.
Reliability did. And Shzekcl? He was reliable.
Viktor reached the Four Stars base, crouching behind foliage. Ahead were two people—a girl and a boy. The shield was gone. Shzekcl had done his job.
Perfect.
He moved to strike—
"BLAAAHHH!!"
A face lunged into his vision.
Viktor nearly leaped out of his skin.
He retreated instantly, pulling the massive scissors from the scroll on his hip.
N—No way. My stealth was perfect. Even Shzekcl said—
But he didn't know Nuelle Ness had heard him two hundred meters away. She had signaled Jokovik long before Viktor arrived.
Jokovik Martennel didn't win through raw power.
He won through confusion. Through misdirection.
And Viktor had just stepped inside his world.
Two Jokoviks flanked him out of nowhere.
"Now you see me… now you don't!" Jokovik taunted.
Viktor slashed—
THUMP!
A tree toppled in half.
An illusion…? When!?
Jokovik's hands snapped through seals.
Twenty clones exploded into existence.
But to Viktor?
He still saw only one.
He charged—then slammed chest-first into a tree he didn't know was there.
He cut it down instantly, spinning—
And the fight truly began.
Viktor steadied his stance, scissors humming with danger. He still couldn't see the illusions—not the clones, not the shifting trees, not Jokovik's real position. But he didn't panic.
He never panicked.
Jokovik's voice echoed from everywhere.
"Can you keep up!? Can you even tell where I am? Look closely! Or rather—don't!"
Viktor's scowl deepened.
He said nothing.
He didn't need to understand the technique.
He just needed to break it.
A clone rushed him—Viktor swung.
The blade passed through harmlessly.
Another clone leapt from behind—Viktor spun and cut, again hitting nothing.
Leaves rustled. Clones circled him, jeering, laughing, taunting. To Viktor, it felt like the forest was collapsing inward.
Still—he didn't attack wildly.
He didn't rush.
He didn't guess.
He waited.
Jokovik smirked behind a tree thirty meters away.
"He's smart… but smart doesn't help when you can't see."
"Illusory Style—Phase Mist!"
All twenty clones charged Viktor at once.
Viktor took one step forward.
Just one.
A clone swung.
Viktor dodged—not in reaction to the illusion, but because he heard a real footstep behind the fake one.
His scissors snapped backward—
CLANG!!
Metal hit metal as he caught Jokovik's real kunai between the blades.
Jokovik's eyes widened.
"W–What—?"
Viktor turned his head slowly, expression blank.
"You talk too much."
He kicked Jokovik, sending him flying through two trees.
Jokovik choked but forced himself upright.
"Hah… you think that means you can see through my illusions?"
"No," Viktor said flatly. "I can't see anything."
Jokovik blinked. "Then—?!"
"I record sound. Every step. Every breath. Every leaf disturbed. Illusions don't make noise the same way."
His fingers tightened on the scissors.
"That's all I need."
Jokovik cursed and launched into another technique.
"Phantom Swarm!"
Twenty clones blurred forward again—but Viktor walked through them calmly, ignoring their movements.
He blocked the real Jokovik again without looking.
Then again.
Then again.
Jokovik staggered back, sweat forming. "You—You're adapting too fast!"
Viktor stepped forward.
"Your technique relies on overwhelming the senses."
He vanished—his first real speed burst.
Appearing behind Jokovik.
"My senses are not the ones you should rely on."
WHAM!!!
He slammed Jokovik into the ground hard enough to crack the earth.
Jokovik gasped—Viktor wasn't done.
He lifted him by the collar.
"What… is your technique even called…?" Jokovik wheezed.
Viktor lifted the scissors, not aggressively—just prepared.
"I don't have one."
"...What?"
"I adapt."
He tossed him backward, letting Jokovik roll until he hit a boulder.
Jokovik coughed, trying to rise, but Viktor was already there.
"Ending this now."
He raised the scissors—not to maim, but to strike the ground beside Jokovik's head.
THUDDD!!
Dirt blasted upward.
Jokovik froze.
The fight was over.
Viktor straightened and sheathed the massive scissors.
He didn't gloat.
Didn't smirk.
Didn't celebrate.
He simply said, "You defend this area well. But I have a mission."
And he walked past the fallen illusionist toward the base.
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Spiritual Energy (SE)
Spiritual Sea (SS)
Spiritual Signature (SST)