The grove's peace was deceptive. Zyair had been moving cautiously for hours, practicing strikes, spins, and tail maneuvers. Snow crunched beneath his boots, each footstep a warning in the still air.
He sensed it before he saw it: a faint shift in the energy around him, subtle, almost imperceptible—but enough to make his tails twitch in anticipation.
From the shadows of the trees, a figure emerged—a humanoid, tall, cloaked, and moving with unnerving silence. Zyair's eyes narrowed. The aura around them flickered, faintly dark and foreign, like residual Abyss energy, though it was muted.
Not here for a friendly chat.
The figure raised a hand, letting a small shard of shadow flicker to life at their fingertips. Zyair didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, one tail coiling around a nearby tree to pivot, the other two whipping out in tandem. His strikes were unpredictable, serpentine, blending hand-to-hand moves with the tails' whip-like precision.
The stranger moved quickly, but Zyair noticed their style was rigid, predictable—a sharp contrast to his fluid, improvisational strikes. He combined a low spin kick with a tail sweep, catching the operative off-guard. A burst of Chaos Oros along the tail added sting, just enough to make them stagger without revealing the full extent of his power.
The operative countered with a wave of Abyss-tainted energy, forcing Zyair to retreat, tail snapping defensively. He ducked under another shadow attack, feeling the frost on his hands pulse. Carefully, he channeled a small shard of Ice Oros, letting it form a spike in mid-air. One tail flicked, propelling the shard toward the intruder—not to kill, but to test range and control.
The operative's eyes widened, their momentary hesitation giving Zyair the opening he needed. He closed the distance, a fluid combination of punch, kick, and tail strike. The operative staggered back, hands raised defensively, then disappeared into the shadows with a flicker of Abyss Oros energy.
Zyair exhaled, tails coiling protectively around him. His body buzzed with residual energy, but the Hydra Apex Drive stayed dormant. No flashback. No uncontrollable surge.
Control. I've got control.
He realized something important: his unique style—the combination of hands, feet, and three tails, blended with subtle elemental strikes—gave him an edge against even skilled enemies. But the operative's presence proved that the Void Covenant was already moving, testing him from the shadows.
Snow swirled around him, carrying the faintest trace of dark magic. Zyair's green and vermillion eyes scanned the grove. He didn't see them again, but he could feel the lingering gaze, the patient observation.
They're learning me. I have to be ready…
He flexed his tails, shaking off the tension. Training had made him stronger. But now, he realized, survival meant more than skill. It meant staying ahead of enemies who would know his limits before he did.
The forest was no longer just a sanctuary—it was a proving ground.