Before Ryen could react, the ground beneath him liquified, pulling him down into the blood pool, immobilizing him. He tried to lift his arms but felt as though he were submerged in thick, viscous quicksand. The crimson shark circled him, its blood-red eyes locked onto him, teeth bared as it lunged forward.
Ryen struggled, desperate to break free, but before he could even attempt a move, he felt a heavy impact and found himself lying flat on the ground, drenched and coughing as he gasped for air.
"You failed," Regin's voice echoed coolly, his figure reappearing at the edge of the pool.
Ryen coughed, shaking his head, "What...cough...was that?"
Regin offered a rare, approving smile. "That was a taste of the Blood Sea. You lasted four seconds. It's not a bad start—but you'll need to double that time if you want to stand a chance in real combat."
Ryen stood, wiping blood-soaked droplets from his face. Regin's test had left him drenched and exhausted, but his determination was stronger than ever.
"That was the skill Crimson Abyss—one of Grandpa Regin's strongest techniques," Alastair said, pride evident in his voice. "When he used it to test me, I could keep my footing in the blood pool without sinking, but the blood-sharks almost tore me apart. I lasted six seconds before surrendering. And Elara… well, she nearly landed a hit on him. She's probably even more talented than both of us."
Ryen took this in, feeling a surge of determination. From what he'd heard about Elara, she was as monstrous in talent as the rumors claimed. If the academy had students like her, he would need to work twice as hard to keep up.
Alastair, glancing over at Ryen, felt a mix of pride and rivalry welling up. His own confidence had been shaken by the challenges ahead; Ryen's relentless effort and Elara's exceptional skill pushed him to reach beyond his limits, too. The three of them, bound by both rivalry and respect, seemed ready to push each other toward greatness.
Regin cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Now, Ryen, I'll teach you how to channel core energy to strengthen your body." Raising his right hand, he let a deep crimson aura envelop his arm. He clenched his fist, and with a slight motion, released a shockwave of force that shattered a tree nearby.
Alastair's eyes went wide as he recognized the tree. "That was the last gift from my grandpa—a prized peach tree! Aren't you supposed to protect nature? Why'd you use it to show off?"
Regin's face revealed a hint of guilt, though he maintained his composure. "Quiet down, Alastair, and let him focus."
Alastair stopped, but muttered silently, clearly lamenting the loss of his precious tree. He turned to Ryen. "What he's showing you now is muscle strengthening. For a Meteorion, this technique is crucial in any battle. Ordinary human strength can't even scratch a Metbeast or a Fallenion, and without fortifying ourselves, we'd break just as easily as that peach tree." His voice held a trace of bitterness, his eyes lingering on the remains.
Regin nodded. "To strengthen your body, channel core energy, not just your regular strength, and direct it into the muscles you want to fortify." He demonstrated the flow by clenching his hand, the crimson energy visibly pulsing and condensing around his arm. "Try it now, Ryen. Surround your arm with core energy."
Ryen took a deep breath and focused. Gradually, his arm glowed faintly, his muscles taking on a bluish hue, encased in an almost invisible energy layer. He thrust his fist toward the ground, and a small crater formed at his feet.
"Well done," Regin praised with a nod of approval. "Now apply this to your whole body. Once you've mastered that, I'll test you against the Blood Sea again."
They spent the rest of the day training side by side under the intense sun, neither of them stopping for food or rest. As the sun began to set, Ryen's triumphant shout broke the silence. "I did it!"
Regin approached, looking slightly surprised. "Oh? Show me."
Ryen was covered in a near-invisible field of core energy, his eyes now glowing with a blue light. Regin examined him carefully. "Now, punch me with everything you've got."
Ryen hesitated, uncertain. "But…"
Regin cut him off with a chuckle. "Do you think you can hurt me?"
With a determined nod, Ryen readied himself, winding up a punch. He struck Regin's outstretched arm, and a powerful shockwave reverberated from the impact, followed by a loud boom. Ryen staggered back, clutching his aching hand and wincing in pain. "Ow…"
Regin withdrew his arm, smirking. "You worried about me getting hurt, yet you ended up injuring yourself." He gave a small nod of approval before turning. "Get some rest tonight. Tomorrow, we'll put you through the Crimson Abyss test once more."
As he walked toward the mansion, he glanced down at his own hand, surprised to see faint scorch marks. What are you, Ryen? he thought, a mix of curiosity and awe filling his gaze as he disappeared into the shadows of the estate.
As the sun rose, Regin, Alastair, and Ryen gathered at the training grounds. Regin cast a serious look at Ryen and said, "Let's start the test right away." Ryen's eyes lit with excitement, and he nodded, ready to prove himself.
Once again, the ground beneath Ryen transformed into a swirling pool of blood, but this time, he remained steady, undaunted by the illusion of drowning. Regin stood calmly in the center of the crimson pool, his hands clasped behind his back. From afar, Alastair watched intently, his gaze fixed on the unfolding challenge.
As before, blood-red, shark-like shapes rose from the pool, snapping as they closed in. Ryen anticipated their approach, leaping into the air to avoid their jagged maws. Hovering in midair, he focused his core energy, releasing a powerful shockwave aimed at Regin. But just as it hit, Regin seemed to vanish, his form blurring into thin air. Suddenly, a hand appeared beside Ryen, striking out from his right.
Ryen barely managed to brace himself, raising his arm to absorb the impact. The strike was fierce, sending him tumbling across the ground. Yet, instead of defeat, Ryen's face showed determination as he pushed himself up, bruised but standing tall.
"Good—you passed," came Regin's voice, calm and unwavering.
"But I still couldn't land a hit," Ryen muttered, catching his breath.
Regin shook his head, a faint, approving smile appearing as he revealed a small tear in his robe. "Keep training. With time, you'll become stronger than you ever imagined. I believe in you, Ryen—you may even surpass me one day."
Turning to leave, Regin glanced at his own hand, noticing a subtle burn mark where it had made contact with Ryen's. Yet, in moments, the mark faded, the skin regenerating effortlessly. As he walked back to the mansion, a look of pride flashed across Regin's face, knowing Ryen's potential was even greater than he'd expected.
Days passed as Ryen trained under Master Regin and Alastair, taking on obstacle courses and light sparring sessions that pushed him to his limits. With only a week left before the semester began, Regin suddenly announced, "Let's head to Shadowfen."
"Shadowfen? What for?" Alastair's voice was laced with surprise.
"Shadowfen?" Ryen echoed, looking between them in confusion.
"To hunt a Shadow Prowler," Regin replied matter-of-factly.
Ryen blinked. "A Shadow Prowler? What's that?"
Alastair chuckled, then explained, "Shadowfen is one of the academy-guarded forests where Met Beasts lurk. Shadow Prowlers are panther-like creatures that blend into the shadows—almost invisible, with claws sharp as steel."
Ryen's eyes lit up with excitement. "We're going to hunt a Met Beast!"
Regin corrected him with a small smile, "Not we, Ryen. You are."
Ryen's excitement faltered. "Wait...me? Alone? Why?"
Alastair clapped him on the shoulder. "The Prowler won't see us as prey. But you're new enough that it'll consider you a target."
Ryen sighed, but nodded with resignation.
When they arrived at the edge of the forest, Regin gave him final instructions. "We'll wait here. Just bring back the body of a Shadow Prowler. Oh, and once you kill it, its pack might chase you. So, good luck!"
"Wait, isn't this kind of test usually about retrieving a flag or something? You know, something a little less… deadly?" Ryen asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"Normally, yes," Master Regin replied with a weary sigh, rubbing his temples. "But honestly, setting all that up is just too much hassle. Just go and kill a Shadow Prowler, and bring it back ." Before Ryen could argue anymore, Regin closed the car door, leaving him alone to face his mission.
Swallowing his nerves, Ryen ventured into the dense forest. He hadn't gone far when he heard a menacing growl from behind. Spinning around, he was met with a feral amber gaze piercing through the shadows—a Shadow Prowler, sleek and panther-like, practically invisible against the forest floor. In a heartbeat, it lunged, claws extended.
Ryen barely raised his arms in time to deflect, but the creature's claws tore through his sleeve and slashed his arm. Pain shot through him, and he stumbled back, trying to steady his stance. The Prowler circled him, tail lashing, its low growl vibrating in the silence.
Fear mixed with a fierce determination rose within Ryen. He couldn't afford to hesitate any longer. But before he could strategize, the Prowler attacked again, faster this time. Ryen tried to dodge, but it struck his shoulder, slamming him against a tree. His body screamed in pain, but he clenched his fists, refusing to give in.