Shockwaves rippled through the air and debris scattered every time the spear collided with the ground. The earth was riddled with deep craters, as if massive boulders had been dropped from the sky. This was all the work of a single man—Buldrokkas'tee.
Whenever he lunged, the ground supporting him shattered. Whenever Yujin dodged and allowed a strike to hit the terrain, a new scar was carved into the world.
Watching Buldrokk repeat these cycles of destruction, Yujin fell into thought. He had been moving constantly to wear out the giant's stamina, but instead of tiring, Buldrokk's Arts seemed to grow even more potent with every second he spent in combat. Yujin had tried to exploit gaps in the wide swings to thrust his blade, but any blow lacking sufficient weight was simply deflected with a metallic ring, as if he were hitting a block of solid iron.
"…This is getting really annoying," Yujin muttered.
He glanced at Netsalem. The Master stood at a distance, choosing to remain a silent observer rather than intervening. Meanwhile, Buldrokk had abandoned his usual calm demeanor and was charging at Yujin with a manic grin.
"Do you have time to look away!?" Buldrokk roared, thrusting his spear.
At first, Yujin thought he only needed to evade the initial thrust, but Buldrokk pulled off the impossible: he dug his heels into the dirt and used raw physical force to snap the trajectory of the strike mid-motion.
Yujin had been preparing his movements based on the telegraphing of the spear's path. Avoiding that level of power was always better than blocking it. But once Buldrokk started adding feints and shifting the weight of his weapon mid-arc, the game changed. It became too fast to react to by sight alone. Yujin found himself desperately rolling and using every sense he possessed just to stay in one piece.
He realized then that if he kept fighting like this, he would lose. He glared at Netsalem. Does that man really want one of us to die?
Of course, Yujin hadn't shown everything yet, either. He had an instinctual feeling that if he tapped into the "Stars" on his arm, he could stand on equal footing. However, the Stars were meant for short, decisive bursts. If he couldn't end the fight within a limited window, the backlash would likely leave him unconscious and defenseless.
And this was, after all, a spar. This wasn't a fight to the death where lives and convictions were on the line. Using a power tied to his ultimate oath felt… wrong.
As the spear slammed into the ground from a vertical overhead strike, Yujin planted one hand on the dirt and swung his legs upward, delivering a sharp, snapping kick directly to Buldrokk's jaw. Since his blade couldn't draw blood, this was the next best thing.
For the first time, Buldrokk recoiled. It wasn't a massive blow, but the precision hit to the chin rattled his equilibrium. To steady his blurring vision, Buldrokk let out a bestial roar, his entire body wreathed in dark-red Arts.
The air began to churn. Buldrokk prepared to throw his spear. Yujin had managed to gain some distance, but seeing the volatile energy, he knew he had to close in again.
If he throws that, I can't block it, and I won't be able to dodge it.
It was pure instinct. Yujin lunged, his blade erupting with platinum light once more. Buldrokk's eyes flared as he prepared to release the weapon.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, ENOUGH!!!"
A girl leaped into the center of the courtyard.
A violent gale erupted, blurring the vision of both Buldrokk and Yujin. An invisible, formless strike slammed into Yujin's chest, pushing him back, while Buldrokk was lifted off his feet by a whirlwind and sent flying through the air.
"This is plenty! Do you really want to see one of them get crippled or killed?!"
Kalaisha stood there, huffing with indignation. Netsalem, who had been content to simply watch, finally snapped out of his trance when his disciple intervened. Buldrokk dangled in the air for a moment before Kalaisha dropped her Arts; he regained his balance mid-fall and landed firmly on his feet.
Yujin stared at the invisible force Kalaisha had used. Wind-based Arts—invisible, silent, and near-impossible to react to. Seeing Yujin immediately start analyzing her power, Kalaisha shot a "flick" of wind at him.
Thwack!
"Ow." Yujin's forehead reddened as the invisible pressure hit him.
"You're really doing this right now?!"
"…If I didn't die, it's a success, right?"
"Graah! Just die!"
As Kalaisha fumed, Theresia stepped in to calm her down. Once settled, the girl glared at Netsalem. She was making it clear that Yujin had more than proved his worth.
Netsalem looked at Yujin with clouded eyes. He had originally intended for Buldrokk to weed him out, but seeing the boy go toe-to-toe with a Wendigo had shaken his resolve. Could he handle the consequences of taking in a disciple who was... "nothing"?
"I wasn't showing my full strength yet," Yujin said, meeting Netsalem's gaze.
Hearing this, Buldrokk narrowed his eyes. "…I wasn't using my full power, either."
Seeing Buldrokk get competitive in such a moment, Kalaisha punched him in the arm. "Buldrokk! Is that really what matters right now?!"
Since his body was harder than steel, her punch felt more like a massage than a blow, but Buldrokk sheepishly sheathed his spear anyway.
Netsalem let out a long sigh. If he refused, the other children would be deeply disappointed. If he accepted, he would have to deal with the weight of whatever Yujin truly was.
"Proof has been given. We need to speak. Privately."
Netsalem pointed a long, skeletal finger at Yujin. Yujin nodded and followed the King.
"…I wonder how this will end," Buldrokk muttered, watching Netsalem's back with concern.
Yujin walked behind Netsalem, staring at the monster's silhouette. His sharpened instincts were still screaming—warning him to stay away from the King of Rot. But Buldrokk and Kalaisha had said that while he was stoic and blunt, he was a teacher who cared for them.
Suppraining his conflicting thoughts, Yujin followed. They arrived at a massive library, its shelves stretching far beyond what the exterior of the mansion should have been able to contain.
"Here lies the history of the Sarkaz," Netsalem said. He pulled a book from a shelf and tossed it to Yujin.
The book was written in an unknown tongue, and an ominous aura clung to it. Yujin found he couldn't even bring himself to turn the pages, repelled by the sickening feeling it radiated.
"That is the life of a Sarkaz. Hatred, regret, and ending in bitter remorse."
"Why are you showing this to me?"
"You are not Sarkaz," Netsalem stated bluntly.
For a moment, Yujin, who had grown up among them and survived as one of them, couldn't hide his flash of emotion. Netsalem didn't miss it; he began pulling more books and laying them before the boy.
"So what? Are you telling me to give up because I'm not of your kind?"
The sharp question bit at Netsalem. The King's expression turned somber.
"No."
"Then why—!"
"I am telling you not to fall into the pit with us."
Netsalem had seen it. A light that could perhaps eclipse the last Pureblood Wendigo. A child who had never received formal training, who had crawled through the gutters, was matching his most prized disciple.
What a cursed talent…! Netsalem thought as he reflected on the spar.
The fact that Yujin hadn't even gone all-out just to survive made it even more terrifying. What would happen once he finished his growth? That was why it was so regrettable that he wasn't Sarkaz. Theresia and Theresis were gifted, but they paled in comparison to the boy.
Yujin's expression shifted as he processed the Master's words. He seemed to realize what Netsalem was trying to say.
"That is all I have to say. The choice is not mine, but yours."
"…As for me."
Yujin took a breath and rolled up his sleeve, exposing his forearm.
"I have already made a vow with the others."
Netsalem's eyes widened as he saw the star patterns on Yujin's skin. A being like Netsalem—an ancient scholar who had spent centuries researching sorcery and Arts—recognized the "Covenant" immediately.
"What in the world have you done?!"
"What?"
Sarkaz sorcery is treated differently than standard Arts. It is seen as something volatile, ominous, and dangerous. But what he saw on the boy's arm was something even a Lich would hesitate to attempt.
"A vow? A covenant? Do you realize the weight of what you've bound yourself to?!"
It was a vow so binding that if it were broken, his soul would be torn asunder. Seeing the marks that were closer to ancient Sarkaz sorcery than modern Arts, Netsalem raised his voice. Yujin took a steady breath before responding.
"…I resolved to live that way from the very beginning."
Yujin's eyes remained steady. Netsalem didn't know the exact details of the vow, but he could guess its nature.
"Sigh…"
Netsalem sank deep into the chair at the center of the library.
"To choose such a heavy burden… how do you plan to survive?"
Netsalem, too, had once been pure. There was a time when he smiled over newly gained knowledge and dreamed of the restoration of Kazdel and the Sarkaz. Now, no one dreams of prosperity. They are merely consumed by a single emotion, wishing for a return to a glorious past while fueling their vengeance against those who usurped them.
That was why Netsalem, despite his power and title as the Nachzehrer King, had chosen to step back and fade away. He wanted to entrust the future to the next generation rather than rely on the people of today.
O Ancestors… why do you place such a heavy burden on my shoulders?
Netsalem closed his eyes in thought.
"I wish to become your disciple," Yujin said, his voice firm and unchanging.
Netsalem could no longer turn him away.
"…Very well."
The King, exhausted by the weight of centuries and the shadows of hatred, made a new choice. He didn't know if it was right or wrong. But Yujin would prove that the King's decision was the correct one.