The air within the ruins was thick with tension. The Aswang's declaration of a 3v3 trial had everyone on edge, their expressions ranging from grim determination to raw anxiety. The jagged carvings on the ruins' walls seemed to glow faintly, pulsing with an ominous rhythm, as if alive and watching. Around us, teams were forming, alliances made and broken in hushed whispers.
We stood in silence, waiting for the draw that would determine our opponents. My stomach churned as the Aswang held out a black urn, its surface etched with sinister Baybayin runes. One by one, team leaders drew lots. Each slip of parchment glowed briefly, revealing the numbers that would decide the matchups.
When it was our turn, Emilia's hand trembled as she reached into the urn, pulling out a parchment. The glowing number "3" appeared, and the Aswang's wicked grin widened.
"You're up against them," it rasped, motioning toward a team of cultivators across the room.
It was them, Elder Lu's disciples. My heart sank as their leader locked eyes with me, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He nudged his teammates, whispering something that made them snicker. This wasn't just a match for them; it was a vendetta. They wanted the scroll, and I knew they'd stop at nothing to take it.
"This is it," I muttered to Jose and Emilia. "We can settle this debt once and for all."
Jose nodded, his eyes hard. "No holding back this time."
Emilia glanced nervously at the disciples, then at the other teams. Clint's group, towering and ominous, was in match sixteen. Han San's team had drawn match 12, meaning we wouldn't face them at all and their team will eventually meet with Clint's at final. A sliver of relief washed over me or at least we wouldn't have to fight them. But my relief was short-lived.
On the far end of the room, Emilia's family knights had drawn Han San's team for their match. Her face paled as she realized the implications.
"They… they won't survive," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Before I could respond, the ground beneath us shuddered violently. An earthquake? No, this felt different, deeper, as if the ruins themselves were shifting. The Aswang tilted its head, listening to some unheard frequency.
"Some pests seems to be breaking through the barrier of the ruins."" it muttered.
It dismissed the event with a wave of its clawed hand, but the unease lingered.
The first match began with a guttural roar. A team of Filipino warriors stepped onto the stage, their bodies adorned with glowing tattoos that radiated faint light. The air around them buzzed with an aura of raw power, though it felt unfocused, chaotic. They faced a team of robed figures, their desert garb billowing as if caught in an invisible wind. Gems embedded in their foreheads gleamed ominously.
The Aswang raised its hand, and with a snap of its clawed fingers, the stage transformed. The ground shifted, sands erupting to replace the stone floor. The Filipino warriors stood firm, their feet digging into the shifting terrain, while the robed team seemed to meld with the environment.
The robed leader acted first. He raised his hands, summoning streams of sand that coalesced into massive, writhing sandworms. The creatures lunged toward the Filipino team, their gaping maws bristling with jagged teeth. One warrior on the right hesitated, unable to react in time. The sandworm's attack swallowed him whole, his scream silenced in an instant.
Their leader roared in rage, his tattoos flaring a deep black. Shadows erupted from his body, taking the shape of spectral warriors, their translucent forms wielding spears and shields. They clashed with the sandworms, their ethereal weapons slicing through the beasts, though not without resistance.
On the left, another Filipino warrior vanished into the shadows, his form blending with the darkened edges of the stage. The desert-robed fighter wielding a scimitar dashed forward, matching his speed. Their clash was a blur of movement, each strike sending sparks flying as blade met flesh and shadow. But the robed fighter's control over the terrain proved decisive. With a flick of his wrist, the ground beneath the Filipino shifted, throwing him off balance. A swift, final strike ended the match.
The robed team emerged victorious, their strategy and control over the battlefield unmatched. The Filipino warriors lay defeated, their tattoos dimming as their lifeless bodies crumpled into the sand.
The crowd watched in stunned silence, the weight of the stakes sinking in. This wasn't just a trial, it was a battle for survival.
As we prepared for our match, I couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in my gut. Each fight was a brutal reminder of what we were up against. Emilia stood beside me, her gaze fixed on the knights across the room. Her family's knights. Her fear was palpable.
"They'll be okay," I said, though the words felt hollow.
She turned to me, her eyes wide and glassy. "How can you say that? They're going up against Han San's team. They don't stand a chance."
Before I could think, I reached out, my hand brushing hers. She flinched at first but then let me hold it. Her hand was cold, trembling slightly.
"We're going to get through this," I said softly. "All of us."
Her gaze softened, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. She squeezed my hand gently, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Thank you, Jiro."
For a brief moment, the chaos around us faded, replaced by a quiet connection that steadied us both. But the moment passed too quickly as the Aswang's voice boomed through the chamber, signaling the next match.
"Team three, prepare yourselves!"
It was our turn.
As we stepped onto the stage, I felt the weight of a hundred eyes on us. The Elder's disciples sneered from across the battlefield, their confidence radiating like a toxic cloud. This wasn't just a fight and it was personal. And we weren't going to hold back.
The Aswang raised its clawed hand, signaling the start of the match. The ground beneath us shifted, morphing into a dense jungle, complete with towering trees and thick underbrush. The air was humid, heavy with the scent of earth and vegetation.
Jose cracked his knuckles, his tattoos glowing faintly as he prepared to unleash his power. Emilia drew her weapon, her stance steady despite the fear lingering in her eyes.
I took a deep breath, my fingers brushing against the scroll hidden beneath my clothes. This was it. Our chance to prove ourselves and to survive.
The moment the match began, my heart pounded like a war drum, but determination steadied my nerves. This wasn't just about survival anymore. It was about protecting the people who mattered to me and proving to myself that I wouldn't stand by and let life pass me by again. No more running. No more hesitating.
I adjusted my grip on my garment-turned-sword, feeling its weight as if it were an extension of my will. The Phantom Prowl Step flowed through my feet like liquid energy, while the Flame Fist technique simmered in my clenched hands, ready to explode at a moment's notice.
The cultivators opposite us sneered. Their leader, a tall man with a scar bisecting his right eye, leaned forward slightly, as though savoring the thought of victory. His two comrades flanked him, both emanating murderous intent that felt like a suffocating fog.
"You think a few parlor tricks will save you?" the leader hissed, his voice laced with venom. "You should've handed over the scroll when you had the chance, boy."
"You talk too much," I shot back, narrowing my eyes. "Why don't you stop hiding behind your lackeys and face me?"
The scarred cultivator's expression darkened, but I didn't wait for a response. With a burst of Phantom Prowl Step, I vanished from my spot, reappearing directly in front of him, my blade slashing in a fiery arc. He barely managed to raise his arm to block, and sparks flew as my sword collided with the metal gauntlet covering his wrist.
As I kept the leader occupied, Emilia darted toward the girl with freckles. Her opponent moved gracefully, twirling a silver spear that seemed to hum with latent energy. Emilia's own blade shimmered in the faint light of the jungle arena, and the clash of their weapons rang out like a discordant melody.
On the other side of the field, Jose launched himself at the hulking cultivator who stood to the right. His tattoos flared to life, glowing a deep, menacing red. The ground cracked under his feet as he released a devastating punch that sent his opponent skidding backward, leaving a trench in the dirt.
Despite the apparent chaos, we weren't fighting as three individuals. We were a team. Without words, we shifted targets seamlessly, exploiting every opening.
I feinted toward the leader's chest before spinning to deliver a fiery kick to the freckled girl's side, forcing her off balance and giving Emilia the opening she needed. Emilia's blade danced like silver lightning, cutting a shallow gash across the girl's arm.
Jose, meanwhile, traded blows with the hulking cultivator, each strike shaking the ground. When the enemy's defenses faltered, I joined in, striking from behind and forcing him to retreat.
The leader's confidence wavered as he barked at his teammates. "Stay together, you fools! Don't let them split us apart!"
"Maybe we don't need to," I taunted, smirking. "You're falling apart just fine on your own."
He snarled, his aura flaring violently. "You're courting death!"
Desperation crept into their movements as the battle dragged on. Bloodied and cornered, the freckled girl's eyes darted to her leader. He nodded once, his face grim, and then the three of them began chanting in unison. Dark energy coiled around their bodies, pulsating like a living thing.
"No!" Jose shouted. "They're using a forbidden technique! Stop them before it's too late!"
We charged, but it was too late. With a deafening roar, their bodies twisted and contorted, bones snapping and reforming grotesquely. The freckled girl's arms elongated into jagged claws, her face stretching into a lupine snout. The hulking cultivator's muscles bulged grotesquely, splitting his skin in places, revealing sinew and bone. The leader sprouted wings made of sinewy flesh, his scarred face warping into a monstrous visage.
"Now, you'll see true power!" the leader growled, his voice guttural and animalistic.
But their transformation came at a cost. The once-coordinated team dissolved into chaos, their monstrous instincts overriding their strategy. They attacked wildly, their movements powerful but predictable.
"Stay sharp!" I shouted, dodging a swipe from the freckled girl's claws. "They're stronger, but they've lost control!"
Jose nodded, unleashing a devastating barrage of punches that cracked the hulking cultivator's ribs. Emilia ducked under a wild swing from the leader's wing, her blade slicing cleanly across his leg. I moved in tandem with them, striking wherever the monsters left themselves open.
The freckled girl lunged at me, but I activated Phantom Prowl Step, disappearing in a blur of motion. Reappearing behind her, I slammed my Flame Fist into her back, sending her sprawling. Before she could recover, Emilia's blade pierced her chest, ending her rampage.
The hulking cultivator roared in fury, charging at Jose. But Jose stood his ground, his tattoos glowing brighter than ever. With a roar of his own, he unleashed a devastating punch that caved in the creature's chest, sending him collapsing to the ground lifeless.
That left the leader.
He roared, flapping his grotesque wings to take to the air. Blood dripped from his wounds as he glared down at us with unbridled hatred.
"You've forced my hand!" he spat. "You may kill me, but the scroll will never be safe! They'll come for it..."
He suddenly stopped, his expression shifting to one of panic. A gust of wind howled through the ruins, carrying his voice away. Whatever message he intended to deliver was destroyed by the wind outside the ruins.
Enraged, he dove toward me, claws outstretched. But we were ready. Emilia's blade slashed through one of his wings, sending him spiraling to the ground. Jose followed up with a powerful strike to his head, dazing him.
I stepped forward, my garment-sword ablaze with energy. "This is for everything you've done."
With a final, decisive blow, I plunged the sword into his chest. The monster let out a guttural scream before collapsing, his body reverting to its human form as the forbidden energy dissipated.
We stood there, breathing heavily, as the crowd around us erupted in murmurs. The Aswang's grin widened, clearly entertained by the spectacle.
I glanced at Emilia and Jose, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the blood and sweat. "We did it."
Emilia reached out, her hand brushing mine briefly before she pulled away, her cheeks pink. "Yeah, we did."
But the victory was bittersweet. The leader's ominous warning lingered in my mind, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.
The crowd's murmurs gradually died down as the Aswang stepped forward, its twisted grin stretching impossibly wide. Its amber eyes gleamed with malice, though there was a strange sense of admiration as well. It clapped its clawed hands slowly, each clap echoing in the tense silence.
"Well done, humans," the Aswang crooned, its voice oozing with sinister amusement. "You've proven yourselves far more resourceful than I expected. Truly, a feast for the eyes if not for my stomach."
It chuckled, the sound grating and unnerving. Then its gaze settled on me, and a predatory gleam lit its eyes. "Especially you, boy. If you had lost, I dare say you'd have made an exquisite meal. A delicacy, really."
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. "Too bad for you, then," I replied, forcing a smirk. "I'm not on the menu."
The Aswang let out a deep, guttural laugh that sent chills down my spine. "Not yet," it said, its tone dripping with dark promise. "But who knows what the future holds? Your scent... it's special. Something about you... I wonder if even you know what lies within."
Jose stepped forward, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. His tattoos glowed faintly, as if ready to activate at a moment's notice. "He's under our protection. If you're planning something, you'll have to go through us first."
The Aswang tilted its head, seemingly amused by Jose's defiance. "Relax, little warriors," it drawled. "I'm bound by the rules of this trial. For now. Besides, you've earned your victory. Enjoy it while you can. After all, this is only the beginning."
The Aswang raised a clawed hand, signaling the end of our match. "To the victors, the spoils! Your team advances to the next stage. Rest while you can, mortals. The next challenge won't be so forgiving."
The other participants looked on with mixed expressions, some with envy, others with relief that they wouldn't have to face us. The remains of the defeated cultivators were swiftly cleared away, their monstrous forms returning to human as their forbidden techniques faded in death.
Emilia let out a shaky breath beside me, her hand brushing against mine for the briefest moment. "We really did it," she whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of relief and disbelief.
I nodded, my heart still pounding. "Yeah. But this is far from over."
Jose crossed his arms, glancing around the arena. "We've got a target on our backs now. They'll be watching us closely."
"Let them," Emilia said, her tone sharper now, the fire in her eyes rekindled. "If they want a fight, we'll give them one."
As the Aswang's attention shifted back to the other teams, it turned to deliver another cryptic remark. "Remember, mortals, this is no mere game. Your lives hang by a thread, and the blade poised to sever it does not care for bravery or skill. Only victory ensures survival."
Its eyes flicked back to me one last time, lingering for a moment longer than I was comfortable with. Then it grinned, baring sharp, glistening teeth. "Oh, and boy? If you survive all this... I do hope we meet again. It would be delightful to see what else you're capable of, on or off the battlefield."
With that, it turned away, leaving us standing amidst the aftermath of our hard-fought victory. My forehead throbbed painfully, a reminder of both the strain and the strange, growing power within me.
Emilia's hand found mine again, this time lingering a little longer. "You okay?" she asked softly, her concern evident.
I squeezed her hand gently, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah. Just thinking about what's next."
Her lips curved into a determined smile. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together."
Jose smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Damn right we will. Let's show them what we're made of."
For now, at least, we'd won. But the Aswang's ominous words echoed in my mind. This was just the beginning. And whatever lay ahead, I knew it would test us in ways we couldn't yet imagine. And little did they know that more troublesome enemies are coming on Jiro's way.