Elowen wandered through the dense forest, her eyes scanning the familiar trees. "I miss Mel... I wonder what he's up to," she muttered under her breath, the solitude starting to weigh on her. Suddenly, the crunch of leaves behind her made her spin around, heart racing. She gripped Excalibur tightly. "W-who's there?" she stammered, nerves tingling.
Arid emerged from the shadows, dragging two unconscious bodies behind him. A sly smirk played on his lips. "Funny, I miss Melanthius too," he said mockingly, tossing the bodies aside like discarded toys. "I want to be a king. I'm jealous of him."
Elowen tensed, but before she could respond, she nodded toward the bodies. "Oh, you got some. Nice. Now we just have to make it to—" Her words were abruptly cut off as something sharp sliced through the air, grazing her side. She gasped, glancing at the tree behind her where a rosethorn had embedded itself.
Before she could react further, Arid leaped into the air, his staff poised to strike. Instinctively, Elowen dodged, rolling away just in time. "What the hell, Arid?!" she shouted, scrambling to her feet. "The objective was to fight the wardens, not each other!"
Arid landed heavily, pinning her to the ground with a thud that knocked the breath from her lungs. She gagged as his weight pressed down on her chest, but managed to kick him off. He chuckled darkly, rising with ease. "I'm just eliminating the competition."
"You're insane!" Elowen yelled, backing away, but her retreat was halted by a wall of thick rose bushes that suddenly sprouted around her. She cursed under her breath, recognizing the power that coursed through him—he was the demigod son of Mother Nature herself.
Arid chuckled again, twirling his staff lazily. "Last time we fought, Mel and all your black card friends came to save you. This time, it's just you and me." His eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure. "If you want out, you'll have to fight me. Simple as that."
Elowen gritted her teeth, her pulse quickening. "You want to fight the daughter of Arthur Pendragon? Fine." She inhaled deeply, summoning her strength. Excalibur crackled with electricity, the blade sparking with raw energy as she spun it in a controlled arc. "Let's see if you can handle it."
Outside the Forest
Sonic leaned against a tree, glancing at King Aldara. "So, which students do you think will win the contest?"
Without hesitation, King Aldara replied with a chuckle, "Draven."
Sonic rolled his eyes. "Of course, but there have to be others you're betting on." He leaned in, eager for Aldara's insights.
The king stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well, Draven, Kai, and Jasper will make it through without breaking a sweat. Laurel, Emrys, and Kali are also strong contenders. As for Cassius, he's been getting stronger, but his fighting skills leave much to be desired. I wouldn't be surprised if he's one of the first to get knocked out."
Sonic nodded, absorbing the information. "And what about the others?"
"Ah, that's where it gets interesting," Aldara continued, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Astroman relies too heavily on his magic; that's why he couldn't take down Melanthius. When it comes to the freshmen, Lincoln will probably be an early casualty. Renita's fast, but I doubt she can hold her own against the upperclassmen. Dorian? He's got that pesky inferiority complex—you'd expect the son of Dracula to have a huge superiority complex, but he surprises me. Still, I can see him at least taking out one opponent."
Sonic leaned forward, intrigued. "And Elowen and Arid?"
King Aldara's expression turned serious. "That's a tough matchup. They're both formidable: one in line for royalty, the other desperate to claim a throne. I wouldn't be shocked if they ended up facing each other."
As they discussed, Aldara's gaze drifted toward the forest entrance. "So, what's keeping you four from joining the fray?" he asked, curiosity etched on his face.
Jessica, arms crossed and a fierce look in her eyes, glared at the shadows within the trees. "We're waiting for the last contenders to show up before we ambush them."
In the heart of the Auroria Dominion's castle, Princess Rue stood in the center of the training hall, surrounded by her elite bodyguards. Sweat trickled down her brow, her muscles tense as they circled her like predators closing in on their prey. Her chest heaved with every breath, her focus sharp despite the exhaustion weighing on her limbs.
Above them, a large monitor flickered to life, displaying two numbers in bold, flashing red: "5 & 6." The moment they appeared, her bodyguards sprang into action.
Rue barely had time to react as Guard 5 lunged at her. She deftly blocked his strike, her body moving with the precision of years of training. But just as she parried his attack, Guard 6 slipped behind her, catching her off guard. His arm snaked around her neck, locking her into a chokehold before she could counter.
Gasping for breath, Rue struggled, her hands clawing at his arm, but the grip was too tight. With no choice, she tapped out, signaling her defeat. Guard 6 released her, and she collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as she rubbed her sore neck.
"You're still relying too much on your tech," one of the bodyguards scolded, slipping black gloves onto his hands. "Auroria Dominion may be renowned for its advanced technology and prestigious school, but your mother ordered us to toughen you up after the last jester incident. Now, get up."
Rue's body ached—bruises forming beneath her skin, her stomach twisting in pain. She winced but refused to meet his gaze, frustration and exhaustion coursing through her. "I don't want to do this anymore. I'd rather study, invent, and build things. Mother's always hated my tech, but..." she clenched her fists, her voice lowering. "Father, Uncle Thaddeus, and Mel are the only ones who ever believed in it. But now Uncle Thaddeus is gone, and Father's too busy running the school to care."
As Rue gritted her teeth, the monitor flashed "1" in bold letters. Before she could react, Bodyguard 1 raised his leg high, preparing to bring it down on her. Instead of dodging or blocking, Rue simply braced herself for the blow, her spirit worn down.
But before the strike could land, a figure appeared between them, effortlessly catching the bodyguard's leg in midair. "What's wrong with something she built?" Melanthius' voice broke through the tension, a light chuckle in his tone. "It's not bad at all."
Rue's eyes shot open in disbelief as she looked up, seeing Mel standing there like a shield. The bodyguard hesitated, retracting his leg and lowering his guard. "King Melanthius... How did you get in here?" he stammered, clearly thrown off.
Mel shrugged casually, glancing back at Rue. "I walked in through the front door. I just asked," he said, his tone so nonchalant it almost made the situation feel normal. Yet to Rue, his arrival couldn't have been more perfectly timed.
"King Melanthius, we were just doing a counting exercise," one of the guards said, his tone smooth as if trying to regain control. "Care to join us? We're teaching Princess Rue how to stay ready for anything."
Mel glanced over at Rue, who was clearly worn out, breathing heavily as she struggled to stay on her feet. Without a word, he stepped forward, scooped her up with ease, and gently set her down on the side of the training area.
"Sure, I'll play along," he replied with a wink, casting Rue a reassuring smile. Rue blinked, surprised, raising her eyebrows. "What's he planning?" she muttered to herself, unsure of Mel's intentions.
Meanwhile, in the forest, Dorian shot streams of boiling blood at Dainin, but the monk dodged them effortlessly. Before Dorian could react, Dainin's fist slammed into his ribs, sending him to his knees. Dorian's sides were covered in bruises, his eyes bloodshot and burning from exhaustion. He growled, frustration boiling over, and lunged at Dainin, claws bared.
But the monk was quicker. With a fluid motion, Dainin delivered a devastating uppercut, lifting Dorian off his feet and hurling him into a nearby tree. "You're not bad," Dainin mused, watching as Dorian crumpled to the ground, coughing. "With a decent trainer, you could make a fine king someday. Tell me, who trained you?"
Dorian struggled to stand, wincing at the pain. "I... I never had a trainer," he admitted between labored breaths. "My father always said Draculas don't need anyone to train us. We're just that great. So, I never questioned him."
Dainin frowned, shaking his head. "A shame. So, you've been a toddler for years, huh? Vampires age slow, but your strength could've grown if someone had actually taught you." He appeared in front of Dorian, tapping his chest almost mockingly. "But you're not beyond saving," he chuckled, before smacking Dorian again—hard.
"Come on, get angry," Dainin taunted, his slaps landing with cruel precision. "I want to test something."
Each slap made Dorian's nose bleed, his body swaying under the abuse until he finally collapsed, unconscious.
Dainin clicked his tongue in disappointment, turning his back. "Tch, I wanted to see what would happen if I pushed him far enough to—"
A sudden, chilling aura froze him in place. His eyes widened in disbelief as he turned to face the source. For a split second, it looked like Vlad Dracula himself stood before him, a terrifying, menacing figure. He blinked, shaking his head. No—it wasn't Vlad. It was Dorian, but something was different.
Dorian stood tall, blood dripping from his eyes, his expression a dark, cold fury. "You're different," Dainin said, an uneasy grin forming on his face. "You're actually terrifying right now."
In a blur, Dorian closed the distance between them, his claws slicing across Dainin's neck. The force of the strike was followed by a brutal knee to the monk's face, sending him crashing into a tree. Dorian said nothing, his eyes burning with a deadly calm as he stalked forward, blood still streaming down his face.
Dainin coughed, propping himself up against the tree. His laughter echoed through the forest despite the pain. "Wow, so this is what's driving you—an inferiority complex?" He spat blood, his eyes wide with a strange excitement. "I like it."
Dorian's approach was slow, deliberate, a silent promise of violence.
"Yeah, that's more like it." Dainin's body began to glow with green energy as he took his stance. His grin widened into something almost manic. "I might actually die today," he cackled, bracing himself for the battle to come.
On the other side of the forest, Elowen swung her sword in a fierce downward arc at Arid, but he sidestepped effortlessly. In one fluid motion, he launched a powerful back kick into her chest, sending her flying backward into a dense wall of thorny spikes. The thorns pierced her arms, and a scream of agony tore from her throat.
"I expected more from the daughter of Arthur Pendragon," Arid sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. He grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her into the ground with brutal force. Elowen gasped in pain, her cries louder with each impact. "Horace Groves and Camelot? No real difference if you ask me. We're both from the boondocks," he added, tightening his grip around her throat. Elowen's fingers clawed desperately at his hands, struggling to break free from his iron grip.
Sometime Earlier
Sethanarius and Jake sat huddled together in the back of a classroom, speaking in hushed tones.
"So, what was Arid like back in Horace Groves?" Seth asked, still rubbing his jaw from their last encounter. "He gave me one hell of a beating."
Jake sighed deeply. "You want the truth? He's completely unhinged. Mentally and literally insane. The guy doesn't need a reason for anything he does. He's the son of Mother Nature and a human—chaos runs through his veins. And the more magic his opponent uses, the crazier he gets. Doesn't matter if it's a boy, girl, or even a dog. When he fights, it's like he loses any sense of restraint."
Seth raised an eyebrow. "You really think he'll be the strongest in the end?"
Jake put his face in his hands. "I do. But at the same time… compared to Dorian, the son of Dracula, or Elowen, the daughter of Arthur Pendragon, or even Mel, the son of Merlin Shadowbane—if they ever reach their full potential, he won't hold a candle to them."
Seth chuckled, patting Jake on the back. "Yeah, but that's a big 'if,' isn't it?"
Present
"You should call me cousin!" Arid shouted, his voice echoing with twisted glee as Elowen's eyes rolled back, her consciousness slipping away. She slumped lifelessly in his grip. Satisfied, Arid dusted off his hands and let his thorn barrier dissolve into the ground. He gave one last glance at Elowen's motionless form before turning and walking away, a dark smile playing on his lips.
Arid glanced up as dark clouds roiled overhead, thunder rumbling ominously. Rain began to pour, and he cursed under his breath. "Damn it, I didn't bring an umbrella." With a flick of his hand, he summoned a cluster of leaves to shield him from the downpour. He turned back toward Elowen's prone form—only to find it gone. His brows knitted in confusion. He was certain he had choked her into unconsciousness.
Scanning the forest, he caught sight of a flash of lightning, and there she was, standing just four feet away, her silhouette illuminated by the storm. Both of her eyes now glowed a brilliant gold, and lightning crackled fiercely around her body. The sight was almost otherworldly.
"What the—" Arid muttered, his instincts flaring. He raised his hand and summoned a massive thorn, hurling it toward her without hesitation. "Forget it, I'll just finish her off."
As the thorn hurtled toward her face, she snapped her fingers, and a bolt of lightning shattered it in mid-air. Arid's eyes widened in disbelief.
Undeterred, he stepped toward her, his expression darkening. "What's this? Your eyes were blue and gold before, now both are golden. What the hell is—"
Before he could finish, Elowen disappeared in a blinding flash of lightning and reappeared in front of him, driving a devastating punch straight into his chest. The impact was so fierce that his ribcage buckled under the force. Arid's eyes widened in shock as he gasped, falling to his knees, clutching his chest in agony.
"Alright… this is getting exciting," he wheezed, trying to push himself up.
But Elowen didn't give him the chance. Her fist crashed into his face with lightning-charged fury, smashing him into the ground. Blood smeared across the forest floor as she unleashed a relentless barrage of punches, each one followed by a burst of electricity that seared the air.
Arid barely managed to cry out between blows, "Stop! Please—"
But her fury was unyielding, and after a final crushing blow, his world went black, unconsciousness claiming him as his body lay broken and bloodied beneath the storm.
Back in the castle, Mel stood calmly in the center of the training ring, surrounded by the guards. His eyes scanned the room as the screen above flashed, "9 & 10." Without hesitation, two guards lunged toward him. Mel moved like lightning, delivering a swift, precise kick toward Guard 9, stopping just before impact. The guard froze, beads of sweat forming on his brow, clearly aware of how close he had come to being struck.
Before Guard 9 could react, Mel sensed the approach of Guard 10 from behind. In one fluid motion, Mel spun, using 9 as a shield. Guard 10's fist, meant for Mel, landed squarely on his teammate instead, sending him stumbling backward.
Mel smirked, effortlessly maintaining control of the situation.
The screen flashed again, "3 & 5." Mel's expression remained calm, and the moment the guards charged, he sidestepped gracefully, letting their fists collide with the air. He weaved between them, leaving them unable to land a hit. Every move they made seemed to play into his hands, his precision unshakable.
Another flash. "2, 4 & 7." Three guards moved in from different angles, attempting to box him in. Mel barely glanced their way as he ducked under a high punch, pivoted away from a sweeping kick, and countered with a sharp knee that stopped an incoming blow from Guard 7 just inches before impact. His control was effortless, as if he had already memorized their every move.
More numbers. "1 & 6." They rushed him, determined to catch him off-guard. But Mel flowed through their attacks, parrying one punch with an open palm and twirling away from the other with a graceful spin. Their strikes seemed to hit nothing but air.
The screen flickered, now displaying "ALL." A signal for the final challenge. All ten guards charged at once in a perfectly coordinated attack, their intent clear: overwhelm Mel with sheer numbers. But Mel's expression didn't change—calm, confident.
In a blur of motion, Mel lifted his leg and unleashed a series of hidden cloud strikes, each blow so fast it seemed to materialize out of thin air. His kicks landed precisely on each guard's face, one after another, sending them all crashing to the ground in perfect sync, like dominoes falling.
"Woohoo! I won!" Mel shouted, throwing his hands up in triumph. Without missing a beat, he broke into an energetic Atlantic tribal dance, one that Goda had once taught him. His feet tapped rhythmically, arms swaying with practiced ease. Rue, watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but giggle and clap, her earlier exhaustion forgotten.
"You like that?" Mel grinned, continuing his dance with exaggerated moves, spinning and tapping his feet more enthusiastically.
Rue giggled even harder, clapping her hands eagerly. "More!" she cheered, her laughter contagious.
They both broke into laughter, the tension from the training session melting away in the playful moment.
A few moments later, the two found themselves in the castle kitchen. As usual, Mel was devouring a carton of s'more ice cream while Rue sat nearby, rubbing her sore ribs with an ice pack, wincing at every touch.
"So, I heard you've got a job now," Rue said, breaking the silence.
Mel nodded, scraping the bottom of the carton. "Yeah. I thought I'd need a place to stay, so I figured I'd buy one. Then I remembered… oh right, I already have a kingdom." He chuckled, a little embarrassed.
Rue shook her head, smirking. "You could've just stayed here, you know. Or at the white, red, or yellow card dorms on the other side of the kingdom."
Mel facepalmed. "Completely forgot about that."
Rue sighed, then tapped his head lightly with a cold spoon. "You know, giving up your black card dorm for a friend was pretty heroic, but you really need to start doing things for yourself too," she said, playfully scolding him.
Mel looked down sheepishly. "I can't help it. Besides, I'm still being trained by the wardens, so it's not like I'm slacking. It's a win/win."
Glancing at the clock, he added, "I've gotta be there by two, anyway."
Rue tilted her head. "Actually, my father told me that the black cards have all-night training today, so I don't think you need to show up."
Mel exhaled in relief. "That's a huge relief. Last time they practically broke me."
He wiped the sweat off his forehead, grateful for the unexpected reprieve.
Mel noticed Rue wincing as she rubbed her bruised side and leaned in closer. Gently, he blew over the area, and a small cloud formed, hovering over her injury and easing the pain. Rue gasped as the tension in her body melted away.
"How did you do that?" she asked, her voice soft as the relief washed over her.
"Just something I picked up. It helps soothe the pain," Mel replied with a smile. He began to gently rub her waist, and Rue leaned into his touch, relaxing. "It's nice," she whispered, her eyes locking with his.
For a moment, the air between them grew still, but before anything could happen, a soft creak echoed through the room. Mel quickly turned his head to see Queen Ruecrix standing at the doorway, her eyes narrowing.
"Melanthius, what exactly are you doing with my daughter?" she asked, her voice low and firm.
Mel's heart raced, realizing how the scene must have looked. He stammered, "N-n-no! I swear, it's not what it looks like!" In his panic, he ducked behind Rue, who looked mildly disappointed at his reaction.
Ruecrix, catching her daughter's expression, sighed heavily. "Six feet apart," she ordered, her tone sharp.
Before she could blink, Mel was already on the other side of the kitchen. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, standing rigidly at attention.