The beast swiped at him with terrifying ease. Riel leapt back, heart hammering. This wouldn't work—his strength alone wasn't enough. He needed more.
"Shadow," he muttered under his breath.
His soul strained, pulling at reserves he wasn't ready to wield. Pain lanced through him, but he forced himself onward. He recalled his teacher's words: Intent and faith drive this world. Belief in yourself, belief in others, belief in your gods—that is power. That is strength.
He focused, forcing the belief into his core.
From the shadow at his feet, a tendril surged upward, twisting and sharpening in his grasp. It elongated with a will of its own, forming a thin, gleaming dagger—a misericorde, hungry to serve.
Riel charged. The beast swung, a blur of six monstrous arms. He dodged the first swipe, the second, heart racing with the rhythm of survival. But six arms—he hadn't accounted for all of them. A swing caught him, sending him skidding across the cracked wasteland.
Grimacing, he scrambled to his feet. Adrenaline sharpened his senses. He would keep the monster's attention—he couldn't let it disrupt Elaine.
He dove in again. Swipes came from every angle, but he twisted and ducked, weaving through the storm of limbs. He slid beneath the fourth swing, heart in his throat, and drove the shadow dagger into the beast's hide.
It roared, thrashing in demonic fury. Riel clung on, knuckles white, letting the shadow dagger anchor him as the monstrous bear bucked and spun.
The beast bellowed, its six arms thrashing wildly, but Riel refused to let go. He wrapped his legs around its massive forearm, pulling himself closer, letting the shadow dagger carve through sinew and hide. Every strike sent black wisps of shadow curling to the ground, melting back into the wasteland.
"Elaine! Now!" he shouted, teeth gritted, sweat stinging his eyes.
From a safe distance, Elaine's chant reached its crescendo. Moonlight pooled around her bow, coalescing into a single, glowing arrow forged of silver shadows and divine intent.
She let it fly.
The arrow struck true, embedding itself in one of the beast's arms. A scream tore through the air as the arm spasmed violently, smoke and ash spilling from its joints.
Riel felt the dagger pulse with energy, almost responding to her strike. The shadow in his hand lengthened, splitting into tendrils that wrapped around the beast's other arms, searing the dark flesh and forcing it to stagger.
Riel adjusted his grip, planting the dagger deeper and twisting, anchoring the shadows into the creature's nerves. yanking with every ounce of strength he had left, he pulled it off balance. The blight stumbled, claws gouging the wasteland, sending plumes of ash into the air.
"Hold it! Hold it!" Riel barked, muscles screaming. "Elaine, focus—one more strike!"
Light flared around her bow, a blade of silver cutting through the haze. The arrow flew, colliding with the beast's chest in a burst of lunar energy.
Riel twisted again, using the shadow dagger as leverage; ripping into joints and sinew. The monster toppled forward, crashing onto the wasteland with a deafening impact.
Riel landed beside it, shadow dagger melting, pooling back at his feet. He exhaled sharply, staring down the fallen demon. Its eyes dimmed, the scorched, broken husk of the monstrous bear slowly fading away.
Elaine sank to her knees, trembling, her bow still glowing faintly. "I—I didn't think we'd make it," she whispered.
Riel strode to Elaine, hand outstretched. He hauled her to her feet, eyes steady, voice low and grim.
"Well done," he said. "This was your victory. We wouldn't have stood a chance without you—you saved Kaelith, you saved me… and you saved yourself."
Elaine's cheeks flushed crimson. The weight of his words felt alien. Praise was something she had never known.
Together, they staggered toward Kaelith. His chest rose and fell faintly—life clinging by threads. Without a word, they each hooked an arm beneath his shoulders. Riel's free hand rummaged through Kaelith's pouch, retrieving a teleportation talisman. He drew out his own, then nodded to Elaine.
She fumbled for hers, raising it shakily.
Phwmp.
The wasteland dissolved. In the next breath, they stood at their teacher's side.
Her eyes widened at the sight of Kaelith's broken form. "What happened?" she demanded, panic quickening her voice.
"We had no time to recover, no time to prepare," Riel rasped, his chest heaving. "We'd just finished off a trio of Ashspawn insects when it appeared. My chain—" he coughed, clutching his side, "—rotted to nothing before I could even strike. Kaelith was right beneath where it spawned. It took him out instantly."
Blood flecked his lips. His very soul ached, that power it wasn't something a mere acolyte could harness, at least not without time and preparation.
"Luckily," he forced the words out, voice harsh, "Elaine and I finished it."
"A Blight…" their teacher whispered, awe and disbelief flickering across her face. "Just the two of you?"
"Do you see any metal left on me?" Riel snapped, his tone sharp, bitter. His armor hung in tatters, the corroded remnants crumbling off him with every strained movement. "You think I'd lie about what we faced."
Elaine stepped forward and nodded firmly, her voice quieter but resolute. "He's telling the truth. We barely managed."
The teacher's eyes lingered on the pair, but most of all on Riel. She said nothing more, only raised her hands. Silver light pooled in her palms, spilling forth like threads of moonlight. A simple healing spell washed over Kaelith's limp body, easing the ragged rise and fall of his chest.
"He'll be fine," she murmured. "He just needs rest. You two—stay here. Rest. We'll wait for the others to return."
Time crawled in the wasteland. One by one, their classmates stumbled back from their trials, battered but alive.
"Too simple."
The voice fell like iron on stone.
Riel turned his head.
Edris. One of the Gods' Chosen.
He stood there—broad-shouldered, motionless, his black hair fading into the deep red of dried blood . His metal-gray eyes were sharp, cold, forged to cut.
"So this is the result of his recklessness," he said, voice steady, devoid of feeling. " The powerful, the talented who waste themselves on the weak, always end the same—broken."
"Back off," Riel muttered, his voice low but frayed with warning.
Edris did not so much as blink.
"You mistake your defiance for strength," he said, each word deliberate. "You cling to Kaelith's shadow, hoping his fire will warm you. But shadows never become flame. You are not his equal, Riel. You never were. You are simply tolerated, nothing more."
Riel clenched his jaw, his body trembling from both fatigue and anger.
Elaine's voice broke the air, sharp and trembling.
"Leave us alone, Edris. You think cruelty makes you strong—it doesn't."
His gaze turned on her. Not with surprise, not even with disdain. Only detachment.
"Cruelty?" His tone was level, colder than silence. "No. This is truth. The strong rise. The weak break. And you…" His eyes narrowed just slightly, as though measuring her worth and finding nothing. "…you are dust, stirred for a moment before the wind blows you away."
Elaine's throat tightened, shame rising hot to her face. Every word pressed against her chest until she could hardly breathe.
"She's not dust," Riel said defiantly. His hand found her shoulder, steadying her. He drew in a ragged breath, then opened his eyes, meeting Edris' gaze with all the strength he had left.
"She matters. Already more than you ever will."