Kara shifted, her body glowing with a faint white mist as she transformed. In moments, she stood in her monstrous form—3.40 meters tall, slightly shorter than Marcus. Her shape was humanoid, unmistakably female, but with proportions that emphasized raw power.
Her shoulders were broad, wider than most, and her entire frame looked as if her skin had vanished, leaving only muscle and sinew visible, packed and defined in every line and curve. The sight was unnerving yet mesmerizing—an embodiment of raw physical strength, controlled with precision, radiating power in every movement.
Her face, though unmistakably Kara's, carried the same intense focus as her human form. The features were sharper, more defined, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline accentuating her determination. Her eyes were deep brown, piercing and unyielding, scanning Marcus with a mixture of appraisal and readiness. In this monstrous form, she had no hair, leaving her scalp smooth and highlighting the sculpted musculature of her skull.
Kara assumed a combat stance, her monstrous form radiating strength and control. She fixed her gaze on Marcus. "I'll admit it, Marcus—your combat skills are outstanding. You're naturally talented, precise, creative, and there's no doubt you have the potential to surpass most fighters. But that skill… you need to carry it into your monstrous form as well. Being strong in human form isn't enough; mastering your abilities in this state is what will make you truly formidable."
Marcus nodded, grounding himself firmly. Focusing intently, he channeled ether into his fists, wrists, and shins, directing the energy precisely. As the ether flowed, the plates around those areas thickened, reinforcing his striking and blocking surfaces without hindering mobility.
Marcus took a tentative step forward, testing the weight and balance of his new form. He threw a light jab, careful to gauge the distance and how his monstrous reach altered the strike. Kara blocked it cleanly, her forearm absorbing the impact effortlessly, maintaining perfect control.
He circled slightly and delivered a low kick toward her shin, again gentle and measured. Kara blocked smoothly, guiding him subtly with her positioning rather than challenging his strength.
The exchange continued—punches, blocks, small kicks, careful parries—all deliberate and controlled. It wasn't about winning or exerting force; the focus was on feeling his new form, understanding reach, and integrating Kara's movements into his own awareness. Every strike she threw became an opportunity for Marcus to channel ether into his plates—his fists, wrists, and shins—hardening them slightly with each movement.
Gradually, the controlled sparring became more aggressive and demanding, Kara pushing the pace and intensity to test his endurance and reaction. Over successive rounds, Marcus tried to keep up, but as the session continued, his ether reserves began to dwindle. One hour later, exhausted and spent, he finally de-transformed, returning to his human form.
Kara stepped back, also returning to his human form, her expression calm but authoritative. She gestured toward the forested area nearby. "Rest for a moment, Marcus," she said. "Then go hunting. Put what you've practiced to use—track, anticipate, and strike. Treat it as a controlled exercise; it's the next step in getting used to your form in a real-world scenario. Afterward, we'll meet back at the camp."
Marcus nodded, catching his breath, already feeling the lingering energy of the sparring session. He understood that this hunt wasn't about survival yet—it was another way to practice, refine his instincts, and test his transformer abilities in motion.
After a while, Marcus ventured deeper into the forest, walking carefully and reflecting on the sparring session—how Kara had guided him, the way his plates had responded when transformed, and how he could improve his control and timing.
After three hours of careful tracking and searching, Marcus still hadn't discovered a single target—but he refused to give up. Suddenly, something finally caught his eye. subtle mark on the forest floor—a fresh footprint, barely visible, pressed into the soil. Marcus crouched slightly, examining it carefully, realizing it could be a clue to tracking a target, a practice in observation and anticipation.
Using his newly acquired knowledge and training, Marcus carefully followed the footprints through the undergrowth, analyzing each step and maintaining a steady, quiet pace. After some minutes, the trail led him to a small stream winding through the forest, where he spotted a deer drinking from the water, unaware of his presence.
Marcus watched the deer for a long, slow beat, his mind running through possible solutions. Unarmed, the clear options were grim: a precise strike to the neck or head would finish it, but the thought dissolved as fast as it came.
He ran the scenario in his head: sprinting to close the distance would be useless — the deer was lighter, built to bolt, and would slip away no matter how fast he ran. A direct charge would only spook it and ruin the exercise. Besides, he couldn't just sprint: he hadn't trained stealth, and any noisy, clumsy approach would give the animal every reason to flee.
Marcus settled on an idea. He channeled ether into his hands first, then focused it toward the tips of his fingers. Slowly, his skin deepened into a reddish hue and gray plates began forming over key areas, hardening subtly under his control. He grew claws from the tip of his fingers and they extended slightly, the ether giving them extra density and sharpness.
Marcus approached a nearby tree carefully and began to climb, moving silently. He reached the highest branch and watched as the deer paused after drinking, then started moving. Marcus followed, leaping from branch to branch above it, keeping pace silently. When the deer stopped again, Marcus, gathered ether in his heel and he felt a plate growing on ir, crouched on a branch above and leapt down. Landing directly on it, he struck with brutal axe kick. In an instant—crack—its neck broke, with the impact the deer hit the ground hard, and it was dead before it even realized what had happened.
Marcus allowed a proud smile to spread across his face, satisfied that his plan had worked perfectly. He bent down, gripping the deer by its legs, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and began trotting back toward the camp, careful to maintain his balance while carrying the weight.
Hours later, Marcus returned to the camp, the deer still slung over his shoulder, a proud smile on his face. Kara's gaze met his, calm but assessing. "Honestly," she said, "I didn't expect you to actually catch something. This was just a test of your determination—to see if you'd follow through and return here." She added, her tone calm but pointed, "Many wouldn't have had the patience. One student, for example, came back after just half an hour, complaining the whole way." A faint smile crossed her face as she shook her head in quiet disbelief. "Incredible," she thought, unable to hide her admiration.
Night fell over the forest, the sky deepening to a rich indigo as stars began to pierce the darkness. Marcus and Kara sat together near a small fire, its flames flickering and casting warm, dancing shadows across their faces. The crackle of the burning wood and the occasional pop of sparks filled the air, mixing with the subtle rustle of leaves in the night. They ate the deer Marcus had hunted, sharing the meal in companionable silence, the fire illuminating the clearing just enough to see each other clearly.
Though they had spent the past week training side by side, the intensity of the sessions and the naturally reserved personalities of both had left little room for connection beyond commands and responses. Now, in this rare moment of stillness, a subtle sense of camaraderie began to emerge. The silence between them comfortable rather than strained.