The air in the main courtyard was thick with unspoken words and the scent of cherry blossoms. A month of separation had built an invisible wall between Sarah and Kenta. When they finally saw each other, they stood a few paces apart, the silence stretching awkwardly.
Kenta spoke first, his voice quieter, more grounded than before. "Sarah. I... I owe you an apology. For what I said last time. I was... lost. I didn't understand the weight of my words."
Sarah looked at him, seeing the change. The frantic energy was gone, replaced by a deep, resonant calm. The constant tension in his shoulders had eased. He seemed more... whole.
"It's... it's okay," she said, her own voice softer than she intended. "I overreacted. My past... it's a sore spot. I shouldn't have taken it out on you." She took a breath, a new resolve in her eyes. "In my old life, I was taught to be ashamed of needing anything, of being weak. But this is a new life. There's no shame in having scars, or in someone seeing them." She met his gaze fully. "I'm sorry, too."
The wall crumbled, not with a dramatic crash, but with a quiet, mutual understanding.
Jokedone, watching with a paternal smile, clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Growth! Understanding! This is the true foundation of—"
THWACK!
A fan, materializing from nowhere, smacked him sharply on the back of the head. Kaguya stood there, her expression one of profound impatience.
"You are one hour late, you oaf," she stated, her voice flat. "Sentimental reunions can wait. It is examination time." She turned her sharp gaze to Sarah and Kenta. "The two of you. Against me. Show me what that month of solitude was worth. Do not disappoint me."
The mood shifted instantly from reconciliation to razor-sharp focus. Sarah and Kenta exchanged a single glance—a flicker of their old synergy, now refined by individual strength. They moved apart, taking up positions on opposite sides of Kaguya.
"Begin," Kaguya said.
She didn't move. She simply stood, allowing them the first strike. It was a luxury she could afford.
Kenta moved first. There was no wasted motion. He didn't draw a blade; he closed the distance, his body a blur. It was a new, integrated style—part Hikari's footwork, part Yami's aggressive entry. He feinted high with an open palm, and when Kaguya subtly shifted to block, he dropped, his leg sweeping for her ankles with devastating speed.
Kaguya avoided it with a minuscule hop, but her eyebrow twitched in surprise. His rhythm is different.
Simultaneously, Sarah attacked from the flank. There was no grand fireball. Instead, a tightly controlled beam of white-hot plasma, no thicker than a needle, shot from her fingertip, aimed with sniper-like precision at a pressure point on Kaguya's shoulder. Her magic was no longer a blunt instrument; it was a surgeon's scalpel.
Kaguya twisted her torso, the plasma beam searing a tiny, smoking hole in her robe sleeve. Her other hand came up to parry Kenta's follow-up strike—a knife-hand chop edged with the sharp, cutting energy of Hikari no Ha's style, even without the blade drawn.
The exam escalated. Kenta finally drew his swords. The effect was breathtaking. He didn't use them separately. He wielded them in a fluid, interchanging dance. Hikari no Ha would deflect a kick, its light-based energy creating a brief, disorienting flash, and in that instant, Yami no Hikari would thrust forward, its dark aura not raging, but coldly focused, sapping the strength from the air around Kaguya's guard. He was a storm of alternating light and shadow, each element reinforcing the other.
Sarah complemented him perfectly. She was his chaos to his order. When Kenta pressed Kaguya with structured, dual-bladed forms, Sarah would unleash a flurry of close-quarters strikes, her S-Rank Unarmed Combat at High-Grade making her fists and feet as dangerous as any weapon. She used her environment, kicking up dust to mask her movements, using low-grade earth magic to momentarily destabilize the ground under Kaguya's feet.
But Kaguya was a goddess. She moved between them like a ghost, her "Buddha Art Style" allowing her to parry, deflect, and counter their coordinated assault with infuriating ease. She was a fortress, and they were a tide crashing against her walls.
Thirty minutes passed. They were tiring, their movements slowing by a fraction. Kenta was breathing heavily, the strain of maintaining his new duality showing. Sarah's precise ki attacks were becoming less frequent.
"It's not enough," Sarah gasped, dodging a palm strike that cracked the stone where her head had been.
[ANALYSIS: Target 'Kaguya' is operating at an estimated 15% capacity. Current Host/Kenta combined offensive is insufficient to breach her defense. Probability of victory: 0.5%.]
[RECOMMENDATION: Activate Auto-Battle Mode. Coordinate with Kenta's new rhythm.]
It was the only card left to play. "Kenta! Sync with me on my mark!" she yelled.
He nodded, understanding instantly.
"Activate Auto-Battle Mode!" she commanded.
Her consciousness receded. Her eyes glazed silver. The System took over, and Sarah's body became a perfect engine of war. The change was immediate. Her movements, already efficient, became mathematically flawless. She didn't just attack; she attacked in a way that perfectly complemented the openings Kenta's sword style was creating.
For the next 45 minutes, they fought at a level that made the previous struggle look like a warm-up. The System-guided Sarah and the duality-wielding Kenta were a perfectly synchronized machine. They pushed Kaguya. For the first time, she was forced to use her hands to block and deflect seriously, the impacts ringing out like cannon shots. A faint sheen of sweat appeared on her brow. She was no longer just testing; she was being challenged.
[AUTO-BATTLE MODE DURATION: 00:00 REMAINING.]
The mode disengaged. Agony, deferred for three-quarters of an hour, slammed into Sarah like a physical blow. She cried out, stumbling, her body seizing up.
It was the opening Kaguya had been waiting for. She evaded a final, desperate cross-slash from Kenta and focused on the vulnerable Sarah, her hand glowing with sealing energy.
But in that moment of utter exhaustion, as the System's control vanished, something else took its place. Not calculation, but pure, raw instinct. The foundation Jokedone had beaten into her. The thousands of hours of drilling fundamentals.
As Kaguya's hand shot toward her, Sarah didn't try to dodge. She couldn't. Instead, using the last dregs of her strength, she pivoted on her lead foot. It was an imperfect, clumsy move, nothing like the System's perfect geometry. But it was hers.
Kaguya's sealing strike, meant for her chest, grazed her shoulder. And in that same, infinitesimal moment, Sarah's own hand, guided by muscle memory and a fighter's spirit, snapped forward. It wasn't a powerful blow. It was a slap, fueled by desperation and will. Her open palm connected with a sharp crack against Kaguya's cheek.
The sound was small, almost insignificant after the thunderous battle.
But it echoed in the sudden silence.
Everyone froze. Kenta, panting, his swords still held ready. Jokedone, his eyes wide. Kaguya, standing perfectly still, her head turned slightly from the impact.
Slowly, Kaguya raised a hand to her cheek. She didn't look angry. She looked... impressed. A slow, genuine smile spread across her face.
"You... you actually touched me," she said, her voice laced with a rare tone of respect. "With your own power, at your very limit." She looked from Sarah, who was trembling on her knees, to Kenta, who stood resolute with his twin blades. "The exam... is over. You pass."
They hadn't won. They never stood a chance. But for a single, fleeting moment, with the very last of their strength, they had proven they were no longer merely students. They were warriors.