The battle erupted in chaos as Sakim's minions composing of tiktiks, tiyanaks, and other blood-crafted creatures, started to pounce toward Jiro's companions one-by-one. The air was thick with the stench of blood and malice.
"Stay together!" Han San shouted, his artifact scroll emitting a light faintly glowing. He created holes that swallowed incoming strikes and redirected them back toward the attackers. Tang Lin, with her newly obtained poisonous flower, danced between the creatures, each strike leaving a green trail of poison which corroded flesh on contact.
Jose swung his new bolo with precise strikes which makes them deadly. The blade glowed in harmony with his tattoos, every strike unleashing a burst of energy that sent enemies flying. Hubei Li equipped with her newly acquired clothes, holding her daggers, freezing and shattering those that came too close.
The focus of the battlefield was on Clint as he is the strongest contender there.
"You've pushed me far enough!" Clint growled echoing throughout the ruins, his body transforming before their eyes. His nose became bat-like, fangs could be seen emerging. Black wings sprouted from his back as his body became ripped with raw power looking like of those werewolves from movies. Blood started to float around him, manipulating it unconsciously.
If Jiro was here, he could say its a phase 2 from boss battle in video games.
Han San faced him head-on. "Your tricks won't save you, Clint!" He summoned a portal to flank Clint, aiming to trap him in a pincer attack with Jose.
Clint laughed, slashing through the portal with his enhanced claws, "You think that's enough to stop me?" He lunged, his speed doubling in his transformed body.
Han San barely dodged, countering with a barrage of space-infused slashes. The two clashed in a spectacle of raw strength, each strikes with precision—shaking the ground beneath.
Jose unleashed some energy attacks following Han San's strikes with synergy.
~~~
Emilia stood in a green scenery as wind fluttering her hair, her surroundings became clear as Camelot came into view. Before her, a young knight stood holding an air of authority. She was once saw him in a portrait inside their mansion, it was King Arthur in his days when he was a young knight.
"Prove yourself worthy of your blade." the young Arthur declared with a steady and calm voice.
The young Arthur displayed a king of swordmanship that was different from the ones her family is teaching to the direct descendants. Emilia gripped her sword tightly—following each moves the young knight was showing to her. The trial wasn't just a test of skill—it was a chance to learn a new unique swordmanship taught by the legendary king himself.
Arthur suddenly attacked Emilia without holding back. His strikes were swift and precise, forcing her to defend with everything she had. She realized that the usual tactis would't work. The knight's movement were fluid, unpredictable, and imbued with elegenace she ever encountered before.
"You rely too much in brute strength, forgetting about the essence!" The knight said in the middle of the combat, parrying each of Emilia's strikes effortlessly. "A sword is more than a weapon; it's an extension of the soul, it's part of our body."
Emilia gritted her teeth, adjusting her stance. "Then show me! Show me what it means for me to completely grasp it!"
Arthur smiled, launching a series of intricate movements and attacks. His blade danced like a leaf being blown by the wind, each strike being effective despite having the minimal effort. Emilia mirrored the young knight's movement, her body and mind pushing beyond their limits.
The duel continued for hours. Arthur corrected her form, refined her techniques, and forced her to think several steps a head. When Emilia finally landed a decisive blow, Arthur laughed.
"Well done. You're now ready." he said while lowering his sword. "Remember this style isn't about victory—it's about balance and precision. Wield it wisely."
With that, the young Arthur faded, leaving Emilia in the greenery scene, her hands glowing a newfound energy. She vanished returning into the ruins.
~~~
Back in the ruins, with Emilia returning—the battle who was in standstill came to their favor.
She joined Han San and Jose against Clint, her sword flashing with the grace and power of Arthur's teachings. Clint's blood tendrils llashed out like a latigo, but Emilia's precise movements disrupted his rhythm.
"Jose, go help Hubei Li and Tang Lin defeat their minions!" Emilia commanded.
"Aye, Ma'am!" Jose goes to the left side of the battle leaving them to aid Hubei Li and Tang Lin.
"Where did you learn that?" Clint snarled, struggling to keep up.
Emilia didn't answer, her now focused self became unwavered. Her blade now had a certain patterns in the air, each strike landing with precision. Together with Han San, they forced Clint into the defensive.
Meanwhile on the side, the others held the minions at bay. Jose fought with vigor, his bolo glowing brighhter with each swing. Hubei Li and Tang Lin created space, ensuring no creature could breach their defense.
~~~
While the battle raged outside, I remained trapped in my awakening. My body was still, my limbs heavy, but within me, a storm raged. The burning sensation on my forehead intensified, spreading through my veins like molten fire. The Giant Spirit Stone, embedded in my storage ring, resonated with my soul, pouring its ancient energy into me.
The pain was unbearable, yet I couldn't scream. My voice was locked away as my mind was flooded with a cascade of visions, each one more vivid than the last.
The first vision engulfed me in chaos. I stood in the middle of a dense jungle, the air heavy with tension, illuminated only by the flickering flames of torches. Around me, warriors in ancient armor made of carabao hide and bone readied themselves. Their faces were painted with symbols of protection, their eyes sharp and focused. At their center stood a **datu**, tall and commanding, his blade glowing faintly under the moonlight.
From the shadows came monsters. Kapres with glowing embers for eyes, their massive frames blending into the trees. Manananggals, their torsos hovering in the air, their bat-like wings slicing through the night. Tiyanaks, small and grotesque, darting through the underbrush with razor-sharp claws.
"Hold the line!" the datu roared, his voice like thunder in the tense silence.
The warriors surged forward, their spears and kampilans clashing with the creatures of darkness. I felt every blow, every cry, as if I were there among them. The ground shook as the Kapres struck the earth, and the shrieks of the Manananggals pierced the air. Yet the warriors stood firm, their courage unwavering.
The datu fought like a force of nature, his blade cleaving through the arm of a Kapre in a single strike. He turned to me, his eyes burning with purpose, and his voice echoed in my soul:
"This is our duty—to guard against the darkness, to preserve the light."
The scene shifted suddenly. I found myself standing on a vast plain beneath a starry sky. Seven moons hung above, their silver light bathing the world in a serene glow. But the peace shattered as the ground trembled. A deafening roar split the night.
From the horizon, the Bakunawa emerged, its massive serpent form coiling upward. Its scales glinted like polished obsidian, its golden eyes blazing with hunger. In one terrible motion, it rose toward the heavens and devoured one of the moons, swallowing it whole.
Below, the people screamed in terror, their voices quickly turning to desperate prayers. An elder stepped forward, his white hair flowing as he raised a staff adorned with talismans. "Bathala, hear us!" he cried, his voice resolute.
The prayers grew louder, their collective faith vibrating in the air. As the Bakunawa lunged for another moon, a divine light erupted from the heavens. It struck the serpent, forcing it back into the sea with a deafening roar. The moons trembled but remained, their light dimmed yet enduring.
"Even the darkest forces can be driven back by the strength of faith and unity," the elder's voice rang in my mind, searing the lesson into my soul.
~~~
The next vision was quieter yet no less powerful. I stood in a grand hall carved from stone, the walls covered with intricate carvings depicting battles, harvests, and rituals. At its center stood a figure radiating divine energy—Bathala, the creator.
Bathala extended a hand, and one by one, men and women of my bloodline stepped forward. They knelt before the deity, receiving glowing symbols etched onto their skin.
"These are my gifts," Bathala said, his voice filling the hall like a symphony. "Strength, wisdom, and courage to protect the balance. Use them wisely, for darkness will always seek to tip the scales."
He turned to me, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. The weight of my lineage, the sacrifices and victories of countless generations, bore down on me.
"You are the next," Bathala said, placing a hand on my chest. "Carry the light."
~~~
The visions began to blur, merging into a swirl of images and emotions. I saw my ancestors—a warrior battling aswang in the dead of night, a healer mending the wounded with herbs and chants, an elder guiding their people through famine and storms.
The energy from the Giant Spirit Stone surged into my third eye, condensing like a storm. It was no longer just pain—it was power, ancient and vast.
From the mist of the visions, a figure emerged—a woman whose presence radiated warmth and strength. Her features mirrored mine.
"Mother," I whispered, my voice trembling.
She approached, her expression a mix of pride and sadness. "My son, you've come far," she said, her voice like a lullaby. "But you have so much more to learn."
She extended her hand, and suddenly, we were on a battlefield frozen in time. She moved with unparalleled grace, her strikes fluid, each motion harnessing the flow of energy around her.
"This is the way of our lineage," she explained, guiding my hands through the movements. "A warrior's strength lies not in brute force, but in harmony with the elements."
Time felt irrelevant as she trained me, her lessons ingraining themselves in my body and soul.
When we returned to the serene field, she placed her hands on my shoulders. "You are destined for greatness, Jiro. But you're not ready to wield all the power you've glimpsed—not yet."
Before I could respond, the scene shifted again. My ancestors surrounded me, their faces solemn. One of the elders stepped forward, his staff glowing with intricate carvings.
"You will remember only the first," he said. "Hangin ng Proteksyon—the Wind's Protection. As you grow in strength, more will be revealed."
The memories of the other spells began to fade, sealed away by the elder's chanting. My mother's voice was the last thing I heard as the visions ended:
"When you are ready, we will meet again."
~~~
While I trained, the battle outside intensified. Amihan and the Tikbalang fought fiercely against Sakim, their forms moving with an elemental precision that was awe-inspiring. The winds howled like a tempest as Amihan unleashed devastating gusts, slicing through Sakim's horde of minions and scattering them like leaves in a storm.
Beside her, the Tikbalang, Lakas Malaya, fought with sheer physical might. Each stomp of his golden hooves sent shockwaves rippling through the ruins, his strikes shaking the very foundation of the battlefield. He grappled with Sakim, the clash of their powers sending shockwaves that reverberated in the air.
Sakim sneered, blood dripping from his fanged mouth as he stood his ground. "You're strong," he admitted, his voice laced with malice. "But you can't defeat me."
Amihan's reply was calm, unyielding. "You underestimate the resolve of those who protect the light."
Together, they pressed him harder. The Tikbalang's strikes grew more precise, his movements coordinated with Amihan's winds, which seemed to sharpen with each moment. Sakim faltered, his monstrous form losing its composure as he stumbled under their relentless assault.
Finally, his defiance turned to retreat. "You've won this round," he hissed, retreating into the shadows with a glare that promised vengeance. "But this isn't over."
As Sakim vanished, the oppressive aura he carried lifted, leaving the battlefield silent and still.
~~~
When I stepped out of the portal, the world felt sharper, clearer, as if every sense had been heightened. My body thrummed with energy, and my thoughts were focused like never before.
The Diwata stood before me, her weariness evident, but a glimmer of relief softened her gaze. "You've completed the trial," she said, her voice filled with both pride and warning. "Your companions are safe, waiting for you in Tagbon."
With a gentle wave of her hand, glowing symbols lit up the space around me. The next moment, I found myself standing in Barangay Tagbon.
My companions were there, battered but alive, their faces lighting up at my arrival. Emilia's voice broke the silence first, her tone mixing relief with awe. "Jiro... you did it."
I looked at them—Jose, Emilia, and the rest of my comrades. The trials had left us all scarred, but we were alive. And together, we were ready for what lay ahead.
I clenched my fists, a faint spark of wind magic flickering around them. The power was new, untested, but it was mine.