Beneath the silver glow of a waning moon, a lone figure stood amidst a clearing filled with the scattered remains of felled trees. Towering, broad-shouldered, and powerful, he held a massive twin-headed battle axe slung over one shoulder, its blade still slick with sap.
Though his frame was that of a fully grown warrior, his face betrayed his youth – sharp features still touched with the softness of adolescence. Yet, as August stared skyward in silence, any trace of emotion was absent, making it impossible to guess what thoughts churned behind those stoic eyes.
Six days.
For six days, August had been here, alone in the Binai Forest, chopping tree after tree. He struck until his muscles trembled, until his arms threatened to give out, and then he struck again. But no matter how many swings he made, he felt no closer to his goal.
He was trying. Truly trying.
He wanted to see his axe as more than a weapon – more than a tool of destruction. But each time it rose and fell, in his mind's eye, it wasn't a tree – it was an enemy. A foe to be cleaved down.
Every time the thought of giving up crept in, the image of Aziz's effortless, terrifying display of Battle Force replayed in his mind.
'That power…
That's the power I need.'
When the moon rose high, and his arms could no longer lift the axe, August turned back, trudging toward the institute. He moved in silence, his mind adrift in the forest of doubt – so much so that he didn't notice Jabari calling out to him until the boy was walking right beside him.
"Sorry, what were you saying?" August asked, snapping back to the present.
"I was asking if everything's alright," Jabari said, brows furrowed in concern.
August paused, then asked a question of his own. "Do you really think our weapons are alive?"
Jabari blinked, then looked down at the glaive resting in his hands.
"I don't know. I think so…
I mean, it should be…" He scratched his head, chuckling nervously. "Sorry, I'm waffling. I can't say for sure. But I know this…
When I first picked my weapon during the selection, I felt the glaive call out to me. And when it's in my hands, I feel…
Whole.
The more I train with it, the more I find a strange sense of peace I've never felt before."
He smiled, soft and sincere. "I don't know if that means the weapon's alive…
Or if I just really enjoy using it.
But I do think there's something to what that old fart said the other day."
August was quiet, his face unreadable.
"I'm guessing that wasn't the answer you were looking for," Jabari added, watching him closely.
"It just means I need to work harder," August said, expression hardening into one of quiet resolve.
"Good lu-"
Before Jabari could finish, a loud, blaring siren erupted through the air.
Both boys froze.
"What's that?!" Jabari asked, whipping around to see students and Deacons rushing toward the central courtyard, expressions painted with urgency and fear.
August's voice was calm, almost too calm. "According to my aunt, if the siren ever sounds like this, it means the institute is under attack."
Jabari's eyes widened. "Who would even dare to attack the institute?"
"It's probably not a who, but a what."
Jabari didn't understand what that meant – but before he could ask, a deep, rumbling boom echoed across the grounds. Then came the roars.
Loud. Guttural. Savage.
Howls and monstrous bellows rang through the air like thunder rolling through the night sky.
"Hurry! All students to the training centre, now!" bellowed one of the Deacons, his voice slicing through the chaos like a blade.
Jabari's heart dropped.
His Master.
He hadn't seen Aziz once in the last six days. The man had locked himself away, focusing on his recovery. Jabari hadn't dared disturb him.
But now, something was coming. And Jabari knew – he was the reason Aziz was in that weakened state.
There was no hesitation.
He turned and ran – toward the danger, toward the roars.
"Jabari?!" August called out after him, confused.
"Aug-" another Deacon shouted as the massive teen bolted after Jabari, ignoring orders like they were wind in a storm. "Wait, August!"
The Deacon gritted his teeth, fists clenched in frustration. He wanted to stop them. He should have stopped them.
But there were too many lives to protect – and no time to chase after two stubborn and reckless students, even if they were two of the most talented of their cohort.
As he chased after Jabari, August's wide strides pounded against the earth – but even as a Beast-Warrior, he found himself unable to close the gap.
His lungs remained steady. His legs were a blur. Yet the distance between him and Jabari only widened.
'He's faster than me?' August thought, stunned. 'I'm a Beast-Warrior. I can run a hundred metres in under ten seconds, and I'm still falling behind…
Just how much was he holding back during the assessment?'
Jabari had no idea what was racing through August's mind, and even if he did, he wouldn't have cared. In that moment, his thoughts were singular, driven by urgency:
'I have to get to Master. I can't let anything happen to him!'
Screams echoed around him – agonised cries, roaring beasts, and terrified students – but his steps didn't so much as falter. Not until-
"Malia?!"
The name slipped from his mouth before his thoughts could catch up.
Kneeling in the dirt, chest heaving and arm hanging limply at her side, Malia was using a golden shield for support. Behind her stood two trembling students, both former slum dwellers Jabari recognised from the institute's outskirts.
Before them loomed a monstrous bear, its fur matted with blood and foam dripping from its fanged maw. Malia's arm – clearly dislocated – dangled uselessly at her side.
She heard him. Her jaw clenched.
"NO! DON'T COME!" she shouted, eyes blazing with fear and frustration. She didn't want to see him dragged into this. Not because of her.
But he didn't stop.
Jabari was far from a saint; his time in the slums had taught him that he couldn't afford to be selfless – not without having enough power.
That was shown by his ability to completely disregard the screams of other students as he made his way to Aziz's without so much as batting an eyelid. Still, he was unable to do that with people he personally knew and liked.
Although he wouldn't call Malia a "friend", he definitely felt positively towards her. And those positive feelings only grew over the last week as she joined him and August with their morning training. As a result, he couldn't bring himself to ignore her when she obviously needed help.
Jabari's feet didn't hesitate, even as the towering bear turned from Malia and locked eyes with its new prey.
It rose to its full height and roared, a thunderous, guttural sound that shook the trees. Then it lunged, paw swinging like a boulder aimed straight for Jabari's head.
But Jabari remained calm.
His spirit surged to his eyes, enhancing his perception. The bear's paw moved like it was underwater – slow, almost lazy.
He ducked beneath it, pivoting smoothly. Before the beast could turn, the blade of his glaive pierced through the back of its skull, cleanly exiting through the front.
*Thunk!*
The bear collapsed in a heap.
Jabari exhaled slowly and looked down at the corpse. What surprised him most wasn't the ease of the kill – but the execution.
'Too stiff,' he thought, frowning.
His movements had lacked finesse. It had been effective – but crude.
He wiped the blood from the glaive's edge.
Behind him, Malia and the two students stared, wide-eyed.
"Are you okay?" Jabari asked, voice calm despite the situation.
"You-"
"Now's not the time," Jabari interrupted. "Can you walk?"
"I'm fine, but why are you and August running in the wrong direction?" she asked, just as August came skidding to a halt beside them, his chest rising and falling steadily.
August looked at the bear, then at Malia.
"You?" he asked, pointing.
"It was Jabari," she replied, eyes still filled with disbelief. "He killed it with one strike."
"We don't have time for this," Jabari cut in. "If you can walk, go with August to the training centre. Everyone's regrouping there."
But before they could move, August spoke again – this time without his usual detachment.
"I don't think we'll be going anywhere right now."
Jabari turned – and his blood ran cold.
Three wolves stood ahead of them, low to the ground and growling, eyes glowing with unnatural hunger.
And they weren't alone.
Jabari's gaze swept the surroundings.
More shadows moved in the trees. Eyes gleamed from the brush. Growls and howls filled the air like a hunting choir.
They were surrounded.
"There's at least ten of them!" Jabari muttered, exasperation creeping into his voice as he readied his glaive once more. "For fuck's sake, I really don't have time for this."
Surrounding them, glowing eyes and snarling mouths emerged from the shadows. Wolves slinked forward with fangs bared and hackles raised, their growls low and rumbling like a death knell.
August raised his axe without a word, stepping slightly ahead of the two students behind him, while Malia stood firm, shifting her weight onto her good leg and bracing her shield with grim resolve.
…
Meanwhile, on the other side of the school grounds, chaos reigned.
But this wasn't ordinary chaos.
It was otherworldly.
Elders battled not against common wild animals, but creatures that defied nature itself.
A serpent with two heads and four crimson eyes slithered between buildings, each mouth spitting toxic mist.
A lion with silver scales roared with enough force to crack stone walls.
Beasts wreathed in elemental energy – fire-spewing panthers, wind-cloaked lizards, and tail-lashing monstrosities – converged on the Institute like a tide of fangs and fury.
These were no ordinary beasts.
They were Magical Beasts – rare, powerful, and far more intelligent than their mundane counterparts. Each one moved with cunning purpose, as if executing a strategy only they understood.
High above them all soared a creature unlike any other.
A giant eagle, massive enough to blot out the moonlight, hovered effortlessly in the air. Its six wings beat in eerie silence, purple feathers rippling like waves of smoke. Two fox-shaped tails swayed behind it with eerie grace, while its four eyes – each glowing with a cold, unnatural light – scanned the battlefield with the sharpness of a predator and the calculation of a general.
This was no mindless beast.
Its gaze swept across the Institute with purpose.
And yet, it did not attack. It merely watched.
From the rooftop of one of the buildings, Supreme Elder Diallo stood unmoving, his robes billowing in the updraft, his spear resting against his shoulder like a coiled viper.
"Supreme Elder," came a calm voice behind him as Elder Yared appeared in a flicker of movement, "the Deacons have begun rallying the first-years at the training centre, but… several animals have made it onto the grounds. They're picking students off."
Diallo didn't turn. His eyes remained locked on the eagle above.
"Have Magical Beasts appeared among them?"
"Not as far as I could tell." The beady-eyed elder explained. "It appears all of the Magical Beasts are here, tying down the Elders. The ones attacking the students are ordinary beasts."
Diallo's brow furrowed ever so slightly. "What about the main campus?"
"No incidents reported there," Yared said, glancing around. "Only the first-year campus is under siege.
It's strange…
It looks like a targeted strike. But I don't get how that would be possible…
Although Magical Beasts have heightened intelligence, it shouldn't be to the extent that they can coordinate attacks on specific divisions of the school."
He paused, tone growing increasingly wary. "And how did a force of this size get so close without anyone noticing?"
For a moment, silence hung in the air.
"I don't know…" Diallo finally replied, his voice calm as steel. "But I intend to find out."
With that, he stepped forward – and leapt from the rooftop, his long spear gleaming under the moonlight as he descended like a thunderbolt, a harbinger of retribution ready to strike back against the tide of beasts.
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