Lanse swiftly swung his sword, colliding with the spinning razor disk hurtling towards his head. The deflected projectile vanished from sight, but the alarming realization that it had been one of their own swords brought him to a sudden halt. His gaze darted around, scanning the surroundings with a mix of confusion and concern.
In the midst of the chaos, Tess hurled two more swords at Zino and Zack, compelling them to pause their onslaught. Lanse's eyes widened in shock at the audacious move. "What the hell is she thinking?" he muttered, his voice filled with incredulity.
Zack, oblivious to Tess's intentions, frantically scanned the area, searching for the source of the sword that had been aimed at him. "Hey, look out!" he bellowed, finally perceiving the swarm of swords hurtling perilously close to his head.
That fool! Tess seethed with frustration, her inner voice screaming at Zack's unwitting intervention. Meanwhile, the others turned their attention towards the opponent, perplexed by the unusual turn of events. Zino swiftly evaded the incoming barrage, while Lanse and Zack narrowly evaded the onslaught by the thinnest of margins.
The opponent adeptly dodged some of the hurtling swords, while others tore through his spiked whips, the heavy bases inflicting significant damage. Thankfully, the combined assault was enough to deliver a substantial blow.
A radiant light began to emanate from the quicksand, casting an otherworldly glow across the field. Tess and her teammates tore their gaze away from the opponent, their focus now drawn to the mesmerizing sight of glowing symbols floating above the treacherous sand.
A sinking feeling gripped Tess's core as she sensed the logs beneath her feet shifting, descending towards the treacherous quicksand. The ground was giving way, and they were being swallowed whole.
"Get off this field now!" Zack's urgent cry pierced the air, and Zino wasted no time in following his lead. Tess hesitated, her mind swirling with doubts. Would it be wise for all of them to plummet from the sky? Who would be there to catch them? And what if there were no branches to break their fall?
Reluctantly, Tess sprinted to escape the field, but Lanse remained behind. The torrent of swords had ceased, and the destruction of the opponent's six spiked whips had created an opening for Lanse to close in and tackle him. As their bodies entwined, both figures hurtled towards the treacherous quicksand.
None of the others managed to escape the log field in time. The sinking logs vanished from sight, leaving them bewildered and disoriented. Instead of sinking into the expected quagmire, their feet met solid ground, further perplexing them.
Suddenly, a male voice rang out in pain, jolting Tess, Zino, Zack, and Szedra from their daze. They turned their gaze towards the source, finding Lanse locked in a wrestling match with the opponent, who appeared significantly older than him.
"Pray, I beseech thee, unhand me," the man pleaded, his voice filled with surrender. "Thou hast triumphed over me."
Lanse released his grip, collapsing onto his back, his chest heaving with exertion. The others hurried over, cautiously approaching the now-standing opponent. With a swift motion, he removed his hood, revealing a shockingly vibrant head of light blue hair. Gasps escaped their lips as they recoiled in astonishment.
"Chewlete," Zack blurted out, recognizing the distinctive appearance.
Lanse propped himself up, his gaze fixed upon the opponent's peculiar visage.
"Thou hath passed this obstacle," the man proclaimed, his voice carrying a mix of acknowledgement and warning. "Alas, another awaits."
A subtle movement beneath his mantle caught their attention, and before their eyes, he vanished into thin air, utilizing his teleportation abilities.
"He teleported," Tess stated, her arms folded tightly across her chest.
"Auch!" Zack's cry of pain shattered the moment, causing them to refocus on their immediate surroundings.
They turned to witness his hand gently massaging his temple, his eyes fixed upon the ancient scroll sprawled on the ground before him.
"More enigmatic objects descending from the sky?" he mused with a bemused chuckle. "Am I haunted today, or what?"
Zino's lithe form streaked like a fleeting comet as she swiftly snatched the scroll, unfurling it delicately in her grasp. Her eyes scanned its contents intently.
"It's a progress chart," Lanse declared before Zino could utter a single word, positioning himself behind her to peruse the parchment. "This signifies that we have seven more levels of trials."
The others gathered around Zino in anticipation, their gazes fixated upon the seven shaded circles and the solitary outline. Though they couldn't comprehend how Lanse derived such meaning from the enigmatic symbols, no dissent arose, for the revelation held undeniable logic.
As Tess stood there, she felt the tender caress of Lanse's breath grazing her left ear, his words a secretive whisper. "Another point earned for defeating our adversary," he divulged. Surprisingly, he harbored no resentment for the sword she had launched at his very being.
He had inferred that she sought to warn them of the plummeting blades, granting her clemency.
"Five points to me" she disclosed, her gaze steadfastly fixed elsewhere, refusing to meet his eyes.
Her audacious statement provoked a solitary brow to furrow in confusion. "What? How?"
"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to subdue our opponent," she interjected, her explanation cut short as a verdant vortex materialized before them.
The faint sting on Zack's arm coerced his attention away from the tempestuous portal as he extracted a black spike lodged in his flesh. "Could these be poisonous?"
"We'll find that out later. For now, another trial beckons," Lanse asserted resolutely, striding towards the vortex with unwavering determination, his mind consumed by the imminent challenge.
Zino deftly folded the scroll, carefully tucking it away into the depths of her pouch, preserving its ancient wisdom.
Tess retrieved a painkiller patch from her pouch, swiftly affixing it to the exposed part of Zack's arm. "Don't go dying on us," she cautioned, her words laced with both concern and a hint of playful banter.
Momentarily frozen by her remark, Zack watched as the others traversed through the swirling vortex, leaving him behind. His hesitation swiftly transformed into urgency, propelling him to hasten and follow their lead.
Stepping through, he found himself engulfed in an abyss that devoured all light once the luminous vortex dissipated. In the darkness, Szedra's round countenance appeared even paler, illuminated by the feeble glow of a match she ignited. The faint silhouettes of the others materialized nearby, drawing closer to the fragile flame.
A sudden gust displaced the match, extinguishing its flickering glow, eliciting a collective gasp from the group.
But then, a fresh beacon pierced the darkness—a vibrant green glow stick wielded by Szedra, its luminance casting an eerie aura upon her visage.
Their hands fumbled to retrieve their own glow sticks. Soon, a symphony of blue, purple, red, and yellow lights penetrated the gloom, dispersing shadows as they ventured apart, seeking a clearer understanding of their surroundings.
Though the illumination remained dim, they discerned the expanse before them—a vast chamber stretching into the distance, devoid of walls or discernible objects.
"How peculiar," Szedra's voice resonated, echoing through the space. "There's no breeze here, so how did my match go out?" Her voice grew more resolute. "Zack, was it your doing?"
Zack's response was swift and certain. "No."
Just as Tess turned to deny her involvement, the ground beneath them began to tremble. Their silhouettes vanished as their glowsticks slipped from their grasp, clattering upon the ground.