Chapter 304 — Walls of Flesh and Will
The morning air was heavy with tension. The practice yard, scorched from the previous day's trial, was silent save for the steady hum of mana in the air. Today was not about striking first. Today was about standing, enduring.
Kael stood at one end of the yard, his magisteel blade already drawn, its black edge veined with faint shadows. Across from him, Rogan, Varik, Thalos, and Zerathis waited, each weapon at the ready.
Selina stood at the opposite side, her pale eyes locked on Lyria and Azhara. Her staff glimmered faintly with runes, though her posture was deceptively relaxed.
Kael's voice broke the silence. "Yesterday, you showed me your attacks. Today, you'll show me your walls. Because one strike doesn't decide a battle. What decides it is whether or not you can stand when the killing blow comes."
Rogan shifted uncomfortably, hammer head dragging along the dirt. "So… we're supposed to just take what you dish out?"
"Yes," Kael said flatly. "And fight back when you see the opening."
Azhara's grip tightened on her staff. Lyria's jaw set. Even Thalos, ever composed, frowned.
It was Zerathis who cut through the unease, his smirk sharp and humorless. "Do you think an enemy waits for you to compose yourself? No. They tear you apart while you're on your knees. Better to bleed here, under Kael's shadow, than out there where no one will save you."
The daemon's words struck the group like cold steel. The air grew heavier, the reality unavoidable.
Selina's smile was thin. "Zerathis is right. Today we'll see who can survive. Begin."
The yard erupted.
Kael moved like a storm, his blade a blur. He lunged straight at Rogan, hammer raised high in defense. The magisteel blade came down with crushing force.
"Stonewall!" Rogan roared, his body glowing faintly with earthy light as his hammer braced against the strike. Sparks and stone dust exploded outward. Rogan grunted, knees buckling—but he held.
Kael's eyes narrowed approvingly. "Good."
Before Rogan could recover, Kael spun, shadows trailing his blade as it lashed toward Varik.
The rogue slipped back, daggers raised. His body seemed to blur, poison mist swirling around him. "Evasive Veil!"
Kael's sword cut straight through the mist—but Varik wasn't there. A flicker to the left, a shadow step, and Varik darted away. Still, his breathing was already quick, sweat glistening. The veil took more from him than he wanted to admit.
Thalos stepped forward, light blazing along his staff. "Bulwark of Faith!" A radiant dome flared into being, Kael's next slash crashing against it. The shield cracked but did not shatter. The holy glow bathed the ground like dawn breaking through shadow.
Kael pressed harder, blade grinding against the dome. Thalos grit his teeth, veins straining, sweat dripping from his brow.
Zerathis, meanwhile, had not defended. He had advanced.
With a guttural roar, violet flames enveloped his body. Kael's shadow lashed toward him, but Zerathis didn't dodge. He took the blow head-on, his chest smoking, before slamming a clawed hand against Kael's blade.
"Hellbound Aegis!" The daemon's body burned with violet light, the shadows hissing against it like oil on fire.
Kael's brow furrowed. He could feel the daemon's raw will behind it—no finesse, only sheer defiance. And it worked.
On the other end of the yard, Selina made her move.
She raised her staff and whispered, "Ashen Rain."
The sky above darkened, and motes of burning dust began to fall. The air turned suffocating, visibility cut to shreds.
Azhara instantly raised her staff, her voice sharp. "Sanctuary's Veil!" A barrier of pale blue light blossomed around her and Lyria, shielding them from the rain.
Selina's smirk deepened. "Good… but how long can you hold?"
She struck the ground with her staff, a shockwave of fire cracking through the air. The barrier quivered under the force.
Lyria stepped forward, her blade glowing faintly. "Whispering Gale!" Wind whirled outward, dispersing some of the ash and steadying Azhara's shield.
"You're not bad together," Selina admitted, raising her staff again. "But if I were your enemy, I'd kill the weak one first."
Her fire lashed at Azhara directly.
Azhara's face twisted with strain as she poured mana into the shield. "I am not… weak!"
The barrier pulsed brighter, Azhara pushing her will into it. The flame broke like water on stone.
Selina's expression shifted—first amused, then approving. "So you do have steel under all that mercy."
By the time the round ended, the ground was scorched, mana hung heavy in the air, and every council member was drenched in sweat.
Kael lowered his blade, chest heaving slightly, though his eyes gleamed with pride. Selina rested her staff on her shoulder, gaze sharp.
"You all hate it," she said, scanning their faces. "The pressure. The thought of standing in front of a killing blow. Good. That fear means you're alive. But learn to wield it—or it'll gut you faster than any sword."
Zerathis chuckled low. "They'll learn. Or they'll die. Either way, the Hollow won't be weak."
Kael's gaze swept across the council, steady and unyielding. "We will get stronger. No matter what it takes. Because next time, no one—no one—pays the price Azhara paid."
The words fell heavy, but they were not hopeless. They were a vow.