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❃𝓦𝓱𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴 𝓭𝓲𝓭 𝓩𝓲𝔁𝓲𝓷 𝓭𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽?!❃

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The big day had finally arrived. Akira could not get any more excited—by not being excited at all.

He sighed as he tied the ribbon behind his mask. His sector was set for Sector 9, tucked into the heart of the vast forest. Each team had their own designated starting position, and the expanse of Wulingyuan seemed endless. Somewhere out there, Huan was stationed in the monetary tower.

The forest around them was an expanse of towering sandstone pillars, cloaked in lush greenery. Vines twisted up ancient rocks while a faint mist lingered, curling around their feet and diffusing the morning light. Streams gurgled softly in the distance, their clear waters weaving between moss-covered stones. It was beautiful—serene, almost—but the stillness held an edge of tension. A hunt awaited them.

Small androids floated or strode quietly beside their assigned cultural students, their glowing eyes scanning the surroundings for signs of movement. Katsu hovered behind Akira, their amber eyes flickering faintly.

At the front of their group, Zhan led the way, his eyes sharp as he surveyed the terrain. "We'll cover the canopy first," he instructed, gesturing for his team to fan out into formation. His voice carried over the quiet rustle of the leaves, steady and composed. Akira fell into step beside him.

"Think it'll be easy to flush them out?" Akira asked, keeping his voice low.

"Not likely," Zhan replied. He tapped his earpiece, connecting to the monetary tower. "Justin, report."

A faint static preceded Justin's voice. "No movement directly above your position, but energy readings spiked northwest of you. Two or three yin creatures, minimum."

Zhan nodded. "Got it."

As the group pressed forward, Akira felt it before he saw it—a ripple in the air, faint but distinct. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his katana. This was his original blade, the one he'd trained with for years. His uncle's katana remained with Huan, as he still didn't feel ready to claim it.

"Genya," Akira called sharply. His disciple pivoted, already alert, his hand on his weapon. Akira's gaze flicked to the dense tangle of trees ahead. "It's close. Be ready."

The air grew oppressive as they advanced, thick with the scent of sap and decay. A faint crackling echoed through the canopy. Akira's grip tightened on his katana.

Then, it appeared.

The Penghou lumbered into view, a grotesque amalgamation of twisted branches and jagged limbs. Its sickly green eyes glowed like embers, locking onto them as it moved with deliberate menace. The ground quaked with each step.

Akira tapped his earpiece. "Huan, we've got eyes on it. Instructions?"

"Take the high ground. Go for the nape," Huan's voice replied, calm and decisive.

Akira nodded and relayed the strategy to the team. "Aim for the canopy. Strike the nape. Move!"

Zhan and his disciples unleashed their flying swords in a dazzling flurry of steel and light. The blades sliced through the Penghou's gnarled limbs, severing branches in swift, fluid arcs. The air hummed with the force of their strikes.

Beside Akira, Genya charged, his katana gleaming as he cleaved through a massive branch. The Penghou screeched, a sound that rattled Akira's core. Undeterred, Akira darted in, his blade flashing as he struck at its bark-like hide. The creature twisted, regenerating rapidly, its severed branches sprouting anew.

A haunting melody rippled through the chaos. Akira spared a glance and saw Kaiko with her biwa, the strings vibrating beneath her deft fingers. The Penghou faltered, its movements sluggish as the melody ensnared it like an invisible net. The surrounding forest seemed to echo the music, branches swaying in harmony, closing in like prison bars.

A surge of energy crackled nearby. Ruòxīn and his disciples had conjured a shimmering barrier, its surface pulsing with qi. The shields absorbed Penghou's frenzied blows, creating critical openings.

Yuna and her sect moved like a storm, their elemental ribbons snapping through the air. Fire and frost erupted on impact, the ribbons coiling around the Penghou's limbs to bind and burn. It thrashed wildly, but the combined efforts were relentless.

"Akira!" Zhan barked. "Now—the nape!"

Akira launched himself forward, adrenaline surging as he closed the distance. Penghou's flailing limbs clawed at him, but Kaiko's melody, Ruòxīn's shields, and Yuna's ribbons carved a path.

In a single, fluid motion, Akira's katana arced downward. The blade struck true, severing the creature's nape with a resounding crack. The Penghou let out a final, gut-wrenching wail before its massive frame collapsed, disintegrating into ash and leaves.

Silence descended over the forest. Akira straightened, chest heaving. Around him, the team regrouped, their faces etched with exhaustion and relief.

"Efficient," Zhan remarked, his tone almost approving.

Akira wiped sweat from his brow, turning to Katsu. "Signal Huan. Let him know it's done."

The forest, still and ominous, whispered of more to come. The hunt was far from over.

The hunt pressed on, the forest in Sector 9 growing darker and more oppressive with every step. Shadows seemed to writhe among the trees, their movement blurring the line between reality and illusion. Akira stayed close to Genya, his katana resting lightly in his hand, his senses sharp. The air was dense with the residual qi of the Yin creatures they had already vanquished: a fiery Basan, a charging Qiongqi, and others.

Zhan led the group with unyielding focus, his sharp eyes scanning for their next quarry. He barely acknowledged the sweat dripping from his brow, intent on the mission and occasionally barking orders to the tech students through the columns.

Then, a sound broke through the oppressive silence—footsteps. Akira turned his head just enough to catch a glimpse of Team 2, Zixin's group, cutting a parallel path through the forest to the east.

Zhan's gaze darkened as he caught sight of them. "They're aiming for the same target," he said, his tone clipped. "Akira, Genya—keep them busy."

Akira hesitated, a flicker of unease crossing his face. He exchanged a glance with Genya, whose nod was firm. Without another word, Akira dissolved into a flurry of petals, the reddish-pink whirlwind blending with Genya's yellow as they surged forward.

The petals swept into Team 2's path, disrupting their advance. Akira's swarm brushed past Zixin, disorienting him. "What the—?" Zixin swiped at the flurry, scowling as they scattered around him.

Genya's petals targeted Sanji and his disciples, cutting off their approach with sharp, unpredictable movements. Sanji's expression darkened as he slashed through the petals, his frustration mounting.

"Petty tricks," Sanji growled, his blade flicking through the air. But the distraction was enough—Zhan's team closed in on their quarry unchallenged.

The clearing came alive with chaos as the pack of youkai was revealed. Kaiko's haunting melody filled the air, the eerie strains of her biwa bending the forest to her will. Trees seemed to twist and reach for the creatures, slowing their movements. Yuna's elemental ribbons lashed out, binding smaller youkai in bursts of frost and fire. Zhan's flying swords danced through the fray, circling the massive wolf-like leader, its black-flamed mane illuminating its glowing red eyes.

Akira's petals hovered high above, watching the battle unfold. His focus flickered as his thoughts drifted—his grandfather's stern face, his mother's quiet determination, and the weight of expectations he wished he could ignore.

A sudden surge of water cut through the chaos, dousing the wolf's flames. Sanji materialized, his blade gleaming as he charged toward the stunned yin creature.

Zhan's voice cut through the din. "Sanji! Fall back!"

Sanji smirked but didn't slow. "What? Just living up to my grandfather's expectations!" His voice was casual, but Akira heard the bite beneath it.

Akira moved without thinking, his petals reforming mid-air as he collided with Sanji, knocking him off course. The impact sent both of them rolling across the ground, dirt and leaves scattering.

Sanji sprang to his feet, grinning despite the interruption. "Guess I'm not the only one," he said, his tone mockingly light.

Akira rose slowly, katana steady in his hand. His expression was unreadable, but his grip tightened. "Yes, Sanji. Now stop."

Sanji tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Stop? You really think they'll care about mercy when it's us or them?"

Akira didn't answer. His jaw clenched as Sanji's words stung deeper than he wanted to admit. The scent of burning wood lingered in his mind, tangled with the sharp clink of a blade meeting another. Akira's muscles tensed as the memory surfaced—his grandfather's stern gaze pinning him in place, the air heavy with disapproval after every faltered step in their training.

"Again," the old man had barked, his voice sharp enough to slice through Akira's resolve. The bruises on his hands had screamed for rest, but stopping wasn't an option. Not when failure meant dishonoring his mother.

Now, standing opposite Sanji with his carefree smirk, Akira's chest tightened. That grin—it carried none of the weight he bore, none of the suffocating expectations. His katana felt heavier in his grip, the polished steel almost mocking him.

Every taunt in Sanji's casual tone was like a knife, cutting deep where he thought he'd grown numb. Akira's jaw clenched, the distant echoes of his mother's voice urging him forward. "To honor your bloodline, you must become unyielding." But was he honoring her? Or was he bound by chains she never meant to forge?

Sanji struck first, his movements a blur. Akira parried, their blades clashing in a sharp, ringing crescendo. The force of the blow sent a jolt up Akira's arm, but he held firm. Each strike and counterstrike was precise, deliberate—a clash not just of skill but of wills.

The wolf's piercing howl shattered the moment. Both fighters turned as the pack leader's body convulsed, its form pulsating with unstable energy. The air thickened with the acrid scent of corrupted qi, burning like sulfur and charred wood.

Akira stepped back instinctively, raising his katana in a defensive stance. The wolf let out a final, guttural roar before its body erupted in a torrent of black energy. The explosion rippled outward, jagged waves tearing through the clearing with the sound of a thunderclap.

He raised his arm, shielding his face from the shards of twisting qi that surged through the clearing. The force sent a tremor through the ground, and his heart raced, the impact ringing in his ears.

When the smoke cleared, silence hung heavy. Akira cautiously lowered his arm, his gaze falling on a single object left behind—a glowing Norse rune stone.

The stone hovered where the wolf had been, an intricate carving glowing faintly with an unsettling bluish-white light. Its hum vibrated through the air, a pulse that made Akira's chest tighten.

"What is that?" Jiamei murmured, stepping closer, her blade still drawn.

The rune trembled once more before vanishing in a sudden, blinding flash. Akira blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the darkened clearing again.

Then came the sound of footsteps. A boy stepped into view, his shining blonde hair catching the dim light. His confident stride left little doubt that they had been watching from nearby. His entire team lingered just behind him—Magnus, from Avalora Academy.

Zixin's jaw clenched as he glared at Magnus, his anger palpable.
"Damn it," he hissed, eyes flicking to the empty space where the pack leader had once stood. "Another kill stolen. First Sanji misses, and now this..."

Sanji, who was leaning against a tree to catch his breath, shot Zixin a glare.
"Don't start with me. You saw how fast that thing moved. I didn't 'miss'—I didn't have the time."

Zixin rounded on him, voice rising.
"Didn't have time? You had a clear shot and hesitated! Now they're racking up points while we're stuck cleaning up the scraps."

Sanji's kanji sprite flared faintly, his frustration evident.
"And what about you? Yelling at me doesn't bring the wolf back, does it?"

Magnus, still lingering at the edge of the clearing, let out a low chuckle, the sound rolling off his tongue like distant thunder.
"Och, would ye look at this mess," he drawled, his thick Scottish brogue curling around each word. "It's almost heartbreakin', watchin' ye all stumble aboot like bairns learnin' tae walk. But dinnae mind me. Carry on—this is better than the telly."

The clearing went dead silent, every eye on Magnus as if collectively trying to decode his words.

Akira furrowed his brow, looking toward Sanji. "What did he just say?"

Sanji shrugged. "I dunno. I only speak American English."

They both turned to Zhan, who was just as clueless. "Don't look at me. I'm as lost as you are."

Justin's voice crackled through his android, deadpan and unimpressed. "He said you all suck at fighting and should stop embarrassing yourselves."

A ripple of 'Ohhh' and 'Ahhh' swept through the cultural students, each nodding as if they now fully grasped Magnus's statement.

Magnus raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Aye, close enough, lad," he muttered to himself.

Zixin whipped around, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel, pinning Magnus in place. "Don't get cocky, Avalora brat. You might've stolen a kill, but the trials aren't over yet."

Magnus smirked, leaning casually against a tree. "Och, 'stolen'? Ye've a funny way o' sayin' ye were too slow tae keep up, Zixin. If we're ahead, it's cause we're sharper, swifter, and better prepped. Dinnae blame me for your own shambles."

Zixin's grip on his sword tightened, his knuckles whitening. Before he could retort, Zhan stepped between them, his tone firm but calm. "Enough. Magnus, if your team's done here, move along. We have work to finish."

Magnus tilted his head, considering Zhan with an amused glint in his eyes. "Aye, as ye wish, Zhan. But a word o' advice: dinnae let 'work' mean losin' more kills tae the likes o' us."

Flashing a cheeky grin, Magnus turned on his heel, his team following without a word. Their red hair disappeared into the shadows of the trees as silently as they had come.

Zixin let out a low growl of frustration, running a hand through his hair. "Damn them. Every time..."

Zhan, ever composed, replied evenly. "Enough whining. The trials aren't decided by one kill. Let's focus and regroup."

Akira stayed silent, his gaze lingering on the spot where the glowing rune had vanished, its mysterious energy still tugging at his thoughts.

Why are there so many forms of English?

Zhan took a deep breath, his expression firm as he regained his composure. "We're moving on," he said sharply. "Justin, locate more. Bigger ones—more points. We're not losing to Zixin, and certainly not to anyone else."

Akira nodded, understanding the determination driving Zhan. This wasn't just about the hunt; it was a contest of pride and skill, and neither Zhan nor Zixin would accept second place.

They trekked out of the deeper parts of the forest, the towering trees casting shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly. The air felt heavier now, the faint chill of Yin energy prickling at Akira's senses. He didn't say anything, but his unease grew with each step.

"Something feels wrong," Baozhai said softly, her voice tinged with concern.

Jiamei nodded, her brows furrowing. "These creatures are... larger. It's unusual."

"It's regulated," Zhan cut in firmly, though his tone carried a hint of defensiveness. "There's no need to worry. Everything is under control."

Ruòxīn, however, didn't seem convinced. "We've been killing a lot for hours now. Nonstop. And we're moving farther from the deeper zones. Why would the creatures gather here of all places?"

"It's strange," Yuna added, her ribbons glowing faintly at her sides. "The aura from these Yin creatures feels... off. Different somehow."

Before anyone could respond, their earpieces buzzed with a sharp notification. The androids had picked up more Yin creatures closing in on their location.

Jimin, who had been quiet for most of the journey, winced. "I'm tired..." he muttered, his voice weary.

Ruòxīn glanced at him sympathetically but squared his shoulders. "Unfortunate, but we don't have the luxury to rest. They're not stopping."

Zhan gritted his teeth, nodding. "Androids, disperse. Count how many are in the area."

The small androids floated silently into the forest, their sensors scanning for threats. Katsu hovered briefly near Akira before darting off with the others.

Moments later, the ground trembled faintly beneath Akira's feet. He froze, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of movement—hands clawing their way out of the earth.

Jiāngshī!

All around them, undead creatures erupted from the soil, their stiff, jerking movements accompanied by guttural growls. Their corpses reeked of decay, their lifeless eyes glowing faintly with malevolent energy.

Akira didn't hesitate. His katana flashed in the dim light as he cut through the nearest jiāngshī, its body collapsing back into the dirt. More crawled out, their numbers multiplying faster than he expected.

A sharp screech came from their earpieces, and Justin's voice crackled through the noise. "The androids—! They've been attacked!"

Akira clenched his teeth, but there was no time to process the information. The jiāngshī surrounded them, their numbers overwhelming.

Zhan stepped forward, his flying swords shimmering in the air before he called them back. "Swords in hand!" he barked. "Flying swords won't work here." He drew his own blade, the edge gleaming as he joined the fight.

Ruòxīn and his disciples quickly formed a barrier around their group, the shimmering energy holding back the tide of undead. But the creatures kept coming, clawing at the shield with relentless determination.

Zhan tried to contact base again, but the signal was distorted, his voice drowned out by static. "Dammit!" he muttered.

Akira sliced through another jiāngshī. He could hear the distant hum of Kaiko's biwa, its melody attempting to slow the creatures down, but it wasn't enough. The horde was relentless.

"Huan!" Akira tried, as he pressed a finger to his earpiece. There was no response, only static. He frowned, his chest tightening.

Nearby, Genya fought furiously, his katana spinning in arcs that cut down jiāngshī after jiāngshī. The horde pushed closer, their claws scraping against Ruòxīn's barrier. Sweat dripped down Jimin's face as he tried to maintain his stance.

"We need a plan," Jiamei said.

Akira didn't respond. His focus remained on the battle, his katana cutting through the nearest jiāngshī as he waited for Zhan's next command.

The group trudged forward through the dense forest, the air thick with oppressive Yin energy. Every step felt heavier than the last, and even the cultivators were beginning to show signs of wear. Jiāngshī lurked just out of reach, their glowing eyes a constant reminder of the danger surrounding them. Zhan led the way, his expression grim. And coincidentally they ment with Zixin and his group. 

"This is ridiculous," Zixin hissed, his voice breaking the tense silence. "We should just fly out of here with our swords. This is wasting time!"

Zhan stopped abruptly, turning to face him. "And leave the others behind? What kind of leader are you suggesting we become?" His tone was ice-cold, his words cutting. "Not everyone here can fly. Some of us have to rely on more than just qi and arrogance."

Zixin scoffed, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. "So we die here instead? Because of your misplaced sense of honor? Brilliant plan, Zhan."

Before Zhan could respond, Akira glanced at the others struggling to keep up. A fleeting thought crossed his mind—if he turned everyone into petals, he could carry them to safety. The image of reddish-pink and yellow petals swirling through the air almost seemed peaceful, but he quickly dismissed it. No. He didn't have enough energy for that, not for so many people. He barely had enough left for himself.

The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet, and Akira's instincts screamed at him. Something was coming.

A suffocating presence thickened the air as an enormous Penghou emerged from the forest's shadow, its grotesque form pulsating with Yin energy. Its twisted branches curled like claws, leaves glowing with a sickly green hue. It let out a screech so unnatural it felt like it pierced their very bones.

And then another appeared.

And another.

"We're doomed," Jimin whispered, his voice shaking as he stumbled back. His trembling hands gripped his sword, but it was clear the fight had already drained him.

Akira's grip tightened on his katana, the polished hilt slick in his sweating palms. His breathing grew shallow, his thoughts racing. This is it. We're dead. We are all gonna die as virgins.

Suddenly, the sky above ignited with golden light, like the heavens opening. Arrays shimmered into existence, glowing symbols of chinese characters radiated qi that descended with an overwhelming wave of warmth. The oppressive darkness recoiled as the jiāngshī disintegrated into ash under the holy power.

But the Penghou stood firm, their thick Yin energy defying the divine light. The creatures shrank back momentarily, weakened but unbroken.

"That's..." Akira's voice caught in his throat as he stared at the shimmering arrays. Aunt Yang. Her aura was unmistakable, her power stretching even across such a great distance to protect them.

But there was no time to marvel.

One of the Penghou lunged with terrifying speed, its gnarled limbs crashing toward Zixin. Without thinking, Akira darted forward, his katana flashing as he aimed for the creature's nape—the weak point he had trained for years to exploit.

Steel met bark with a deafening clang and a thud, and in the next instant, his katana shattered.

The blade, he had for years, splintered in his hands. Akira froze, staring at the jagged remnants in disbelief. His heart sank, a crushing wave of inadequacy washing over him. It's gone. My sword is gone. A flood of memories surged—years of training, mornings under the cherry trees, and now... nothing. I'm not good enough.

The Penghou reared back, undeterred, and swung its massive limb. Akira had no time to recover.

The ground trembled violently as a sudden quake tore through the clearing. A deafening crack split the earth, opening a jagged chasm between the group and the Penghou. The tremor sent Akira sprawling, pain flaring through his side as he landed hard on sharp rocks. Blood soaked through his uniform as he clutched at his ribs, struggling to push himself upright.

Through the chaos, Zixin's voice cut like a blade.

"Out of my way!" he barked, his glare searing.

Akira barely had time to process before Zixin shoved him, his hands rough and unforgiving. The force sent Akira tumbling backward, his footing lost as the jagged edge of the chasm gave way beneath him.

He fell, the world spinning as the wind roared in his ears. Pain jolted through his body as he hit rock after rock on his descent, the sharp edges tearing into his flesh. He reached out desperately, clawing at the empty air, but there was nothing to hold onto.

Above, faint voices called out—panicked, distant. Akira's mind struggled to make sense of them, but they were slipping further and further away. The others made it. They're safe.

But what about me?

And what about... Huan?

The last thought flickered in his mind as the darkness swallowed him whole.

Why fuck did Zixin do that?!

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I know this chapter is pretty shit. I probably should have like shown the opening ceromony and characters from the other institusations....BUT I found that, writting it was boring as hell. So I skipped, and intruduced you to that ONE character that is going to be important.

ALSO THIS CHAPTER WILL BE HEAVILY EDITED AND SO WILL THE NEXT CHAPTER

When will it be edited you may ask? When ever the fuck I feel like fixing shit, which will probably be when I finish writing this book entirely. SO a very long time :D

Also when I say 'Edited' I usually mean adding more shit to the shit, to make the shit, shitter