Chapter 57: Eyes of the Beast
Theme: Battle Simulation and Evaluation
The moon hung high over the forested training grounds—an artificial terrain carved into the heart of Volundr's estate. Trees towered like ancient sentinels, shadows danced between roots, and unseen traps waited for the careless.
Volundr stood atop a cliff ledge overlooking the arena below, arms folded behind his back. Caelum had helped him prepare this simulation: layers of illusion, magical constructs, shifting terrain, and blood-scented bait.
Tonight wasn't about brute strength. It was about instinct, adaptation, and deadly intent.
And it was Kuroka's trial.
In the Shadows Below
Barefoot and silent, Kuroka stalked through the underbrush, her cloak discarded, her aura low and coiled like a spring. Every step was calculated—each breath shallow but steady. Her ears flicked as she moved between traps with feline grace.
The first construct—a six-armed demon forged of shadow and fire—lurched out from behind a tree.
Kuroka didn't flinch.
She vanished in a blur.
A hiss of wind, a slash of claws, and the construct's head fell, melting into mist.
She didn't stop. Her path twisted through the terrain, baiting two more ambushes and dismantling them with pressure-point strikes and well-placed barriers that snapped shut like jaws.
From his perch, Volundr observed, arms still crossed. "Form improving. Aura containment excellent," he murmured. "She's not just attacking. She's hunting."
A third wave surged—this time faster, winged abominations with blades for limbs. Kuroka dropped into a shallow creek, letting the moonlight mislead their vision, then leapt up with a twisting pirouette of Senjutsu and elemental magic. Their corpses scattered like torn parchment.
Final Phase
Volundr adjusted the simulation's difficulty. "Let's see how far you can push," he whispered.
The air shifted.
Suddenly, the terrain reconfigured—trees bending subtly, stones trembling with enchantment. He descended quietly from his ledge, melting into the forest like a ghost. No announcement. No hint.
Kuroka froze mid-motion. Her ears twitched. She licked her lips.
"…Sensei?"
No reply.
She grinned. "So that's how it is."
The Chase
It became a game of predator vs predator.
Volundr circled like a phantom, testing her senses. A false step here. A whisper of breath there. She tracked him with instinct alone, slipping between his traps and mirroring his quiet.
Then he struck—lightning-fast with the blunt end of his spear, aiming for her flank.
She ducked.
Their auras flared briefly—tension snapping like a taut wire.
She spun away, using a nearby mist construct to hide her form. He pierced it clean through, expecting her behind.
She wasn't.
The Turn
A sharp weight hit his back—Kuroka's full form crashing into him from above.
They tumbled.
Volundr rolled and reversed—
Too slow.
He landed on his back.
A claw rested gently, but firmly, against his throat.
Kuroka, straddling him, purred low and dangerous, her golden eyes glowing.
"I'm not your pet, ya know," she whispered. "I'm your storm."
Volundr stared up at her, a flicker of amusement and approval dancing behind his calm gaze.
He nodded once. "Then I'll be the eye of it."
She smirked, tail swishing lazily. "Deal."
Later that night, Volundr scribbled into his journal by lamplight.
"Stealth: exceptional. Tactical memory: improving. Reaction speed: refined."
"Has begun shaping the battlefield to her advantage. She does not follow—she leads through instinct."
"Unpredictable. Fierce. A storm indeed."
He paused, tapping the quill against the page.
"If she is to be a Pawn… the board may not survive her awakening."