Atlas steadied his breathing, feeling the mana coursing through his veins like molten fire. His hand trembled slightly as he gripped the hilt of his sword, his golden eyes fixed on the lynx before him. The beast's sleek, silver coat shimmered faintly, the reddish-black glow of its mana rippling around it like an aura of danger. It moved with a predator's grace, its claws digging into the snow as it advanced slowly, deliberately, knowing full well it had him cornered.
Atlas's heart raced as he tried to focus. He could feel his mana responding, pulsing through him, but he couldn't make it obey. His earlier attempts to cast Wind Blade had fizzled, the spell stubbornly refusing to take shape no matter how hard he tried to form the correct pattern in his mind for the last few weeks.
Still he tried now.
"Wind Blade," he muttered, his voice low but urgent as he swung his sword, trying to force the spell to ignite.
Nothing.
The lynx tilted its head to the side, its sharp, intelligent eyes narrowing as if mocking him.
"Yeah, fuck you too," Atlas muttered, frustration bubbling to the surface. "It was worth a try."
He gritted his teeth, glancing briefly behind him. The jagged cliff edge loomed dangerously close, the icy wind whipping up from the abyss below. There was no way down—only death waiting in the endless expanse of sharp rocks and white snow far beneath him. His back was literally against the wall.
The lynx crouched low, its glowing yellow eyes locked onto him. It growled, a low, guttural sound that sent a shiver crawling up his spine. Slowly, it began to circle him, its tail flicking lazily, as if savoring the moment.
Atlas tightened his grip on his sword, his knuckles whitening. He could feel his mana swirling within him, restless and uncooperative, like a wild animal refusing to be tamed. "What am I missing?" he muttered under his breath, his frustration mounting as he tried to force the mana into the spell form again.
The lynx stopped circling, its gaze sharpening as its muscles coiled. Atlas saw the moment it decided to strike.
It lunged.
Atlas's body reacted instinctively. He raised his sword just in time, the blade catching the lynx's claws in a spray of sparks. The force of the impact jarred his arms, but he twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding the full brunt of the beast's momentum. It landed gracefully, pivoting with unnerving speed to face him again, its claws leaving deep gashes in the snow.
Atlas stepped back, his boots skidding slightly as he dropped into a lower stance. The lynx growled again, its eyes gleaming with a predatory light. It circled him once more, its movements slow and deliberate, forcing him to edge closer and closer to the cliff. His stomach tightened as he felt the icy void behind him.
"Damn it," he muttered, glancing quickly to the side. He couldn't see Kara or Marcus from his position, but he knew they were out there, moving toward the cache. He just needed to buy them a little more time.
The lynx crouched low, its body rippling with mana as it prepared to pounce again. Atlas's pulse thundered in his ears, his muscles coiling as he braced himself.
The beast lunged.
This time, it didn't leap fully into the air, instead keeping low and swiping at him with its claws. Atlas parried the first strike with his sword, sparks flying as metal met mana-infused bone. The force of the blow sent him skidding backward, his heels scraping against the edge of the cliff. He staggered, barely keeping his balance, and the lynx pressed forward, its claws striking again and again with relentless speed.
Atlas grunted, sweat beading on his brow despite the cold. The beast wasn't giving him an inch of breathing room. With each strike, it forced him closer to the edge, the sharp rocks below waiting like silent witnesses to his impending fall.
Then, just as the lynx paused, its ears twitched. It seemed to notice something—movement in the trees beyond. Marcus. Atlas's heart surged with hope, but the lynx's reaction quickly smothered it.
Finally.
The mana around the lynx darkened, turning an ominous shade of black that seemed to sizzle in the air. Its claws began to glow with a fiery light, the snow beneath it hissing and melting as it raked the air in a terrifying display of power.
Atlas dove to the side as a fiery slash tore through the air where he had been standing. The heat singed his face, and he rolled to his feet, his sword raised just in time to meet the beast's next strike. Sparks exploded again as their clash sent shockwaves through his arms. He was losing ground fast.
The lynx leapt into the air, its body twisting mid-flight as it lunged at him. Atlas tried to raise his sword, but the beast was too fast. He braced himself for the impact.
A fiery fist slammed into the lynx's side, sending it hurtling through the air and over the edge of the cliff.
Atlas stared in shock as Marcus stepped into view, his fist still glowing with residual flames. He looked at Atlas with a big smile. "Looks like I saved you again."
Time seemed to slow as the lynx twisted mid-air, its glowing eyes narrowing as it turned its head to lock onto Marcus.
The beast tumbled toward the edge of the cliff. But as it reached the edge, its claws lashed out, snagging Marcus's leg.
Marcus screamed, the sound tearing through the air as he was yanked off his feet. His body slid toward the edge, his fingers scrambling for purchase in the snow. The lynx hung precariously, its claws digging into Marcus's leg as it tried to pull itself back up.
Atlas didn't think. He lunged forward, grabbing Marcus's outstretched hand just as the boy's body slid fully over the edge. The weight of Marcus and the lynx nearly pulled him off balance, but he dug his sword into the snow, his muscles straining as he held on with everything he had.
"Don't let go!" Marcus pleaded, his voice thick with pain and fear. Blood dripped from his leg where the lynx's claws had pierced his flesh and down onto the face of the lynx.
"I've got you!" Atlas grunted, his voice strained as he fought to keep his grip. He slipped slightly in the snow, and he could feel the pull of gravity threatening to drag them both over the edge.
The lynx let out a furious growl, its claws digging deeper into Marcus's leg as it tried to climb back up. Marcus cried out in agony, his free hand clawing at the snow in desperation.
Atlas's mind raced. He couldn't hold on much longer. His muscles burned, his fingers numb from the cold and the strain. "Kara!" he shouted, his voice hoarse. "I need you!"
Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he clung to Marcus's hand, his thoughts a chaotic jumble of panic and determination. He couldn't let go. He wouldn't let go. Not now. Not after everything.
Atlas's breath came in sharp, ragged bursts as he clung to Marcus's hand, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest. His golden eyes flicked to his sword, he was holding on for all he could, its hilt catching the faint glint of sunlight. The lynx dangled by a single claw, its fierce yellow eyes glaring up at him, its growls vibrating through the icy air.
He didn't have time to think. He didn't have the luxury to hesitate.
With a growl of determination, Atlas pulled the sword from the ground. The movement sent him sliding slightly closer to the edge, his shoulder jamming painfully into a jagged rock that kept him from tumbling over entirely.
Every muscle in his body screamed in protest. He could feel his mana surging through him, desperate and wild, like a caged animal clawing to be let loose. It fueled his strength, but it also burned, leaving his arms trembling under the strain.
He raised the sword, angling it toward the lynx, but the beast was just out of reach. Its claws scraped against the icy edge of the cliff as it tried to pull itself up, dragging Marcus closer to the abyss with each passing second.
"Damn it," Atlas hissed through gritted teeth. He tightened his grip on Marcus, his knuckles white as he glanced down at the beast. The lynx's powerful muscles rippled as it clung to life, its glowing claws digging into the rock with terrifying precision.
Atlas tried to force his mana into the sword, willing it to respond. He muttered the words under his breath, his voice shaky but filled with raw desperation. "Wind Slash."
Nothing.
His heart sank, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. "Wind Slash!" he barked again, his voice louder this time, but still, the spell refused to take shape. His mana twisted and coiled within him, stubborn and unyielding, as if mocking his efforts.
He glanced back at Marcus, whose pale face was slick with sweat. Blood seeped from the gashes in his leg. His green eyes met Atlas's, wide with fear but also filled with unspoken trust.
"Atlas," Marcus gasped, his voice barely audible, "don't let go."
"I won't," Atlas growled, his resolve hardening. He looked back at the lynx, its growls growing more frantic as it struggled to maintain its grip. If he let go they would both fall down.
But no. He couldn't. Marcus had saved him—twice now. Letting go wasn't an option.
Atlas gritted his teeth, his mana surging violently within him. He focused on the pattern for the spell, his mind forcing it to take shape even as his body threatened to give out. "Wind Slash," he muttered again, his voice cracking.
Nothing.
"Please," he whispered, his voice trembling with frustration and desperation. "Please just work."
He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, his fingers numb from the cold. "Wind Slash," he said again, louder this time, his voice echoing against the cliffside.
He felt it—a faint ripple of air, barely noticeable but there. It wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed everything.
"Come on!" Atlas roared, his golden eyes blazing as he poured every ounce of his mana into the pattern. The air around him seemed to hum, vibrating with raw energy. His vision blurred at the edges, his body teetering on the brink of collapse. But he didn't stop. He couldn't.
"WIND SLASH!" he screamed, his voice breaking with the force of his desperation.
Something clicked. The pattern snapped into place, and his mana surged forward like a tidal wave, ravenous and unrelenting. The sword in his hand thrummed with energy, the air around it shimmering as the spell finally ignited.
He swung the blade with all his strength, feeling the drain of his mana as a crescent-shaped arc of wind erupted from the sword. The force of it was immediate, slicing through the air faster than Atlas could track. The spell's power reverberated through him, leaving his body trembling and hollow.
For a brief, heart-stopping moment, he felt Marcus's weight lessen, and his stomach dropped. He thought he had lost him. He thought he had failed.
But then he saw it. The lynx fell, its claws scrabbling at the air as it plummeted into the snowy abyss below. Its roar echoed against the cliffside, a sorrowful, haunting sound that faded into silence as it disappeared from view.
Atlas released the sword, letting it clatter to the ground as he lunged forward with his free hand. His fingers latched onto Marcus's wrist, gripping him tightly as he pulled with every ounce of strength he had left.
"Hold on," Atlas grunted, his voice raw with exertion. His boots scraped against the icy ground, his shoulders screaming in protest as he hauled Marcus upward, inch by agonizing inch.
Marcus's weight was dead, his body slack from pain and exhaustion. Blood dripped from his leg, leaving dark stains in the snow, but his eyes were still open, still watching Atlas with a mixture of fear and hope.
"I've got you," Atlas growled, his muscles burning as he gave one final pull.
With a guttural cry, Atlas yanked Marcus over the edge, collapsing onto his back in the snow as Marcus rolled to safety beside him. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the gray sky, his chest heaving as his body screamed in protest.
Marcus groaned, his voice weak but alive. "You… you did it."
Atlas turned his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the exhaustion weighing him down. "Yeah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I told you I wouldn't let go."
The wind howled around them, carrying with it the distant echoes of the lynx's final roar. Atlas closed his eyes, his body aching but his heart steady. For now, they were safe.
***
Torren crouched silently on a thick tree branch, his sharp eyes fixed on the two boys sprawled near the cliff's edge. The faint wind tugged at his cloak, carrying with it the faint scent of blood and sweat. Below him, Atlas and Marcus lay motionless, as they recovered from their first proper near-death encounter. Neither of them seemed aware of their surroundings, too consumed by exhaustion to notice anything else.
Torren's lips curved into a faint smirk.
How interesting
He had been watching them for a while now, shadowing their progress through the trees. He had seen the fight, the desperate gamble, and the sheer willpower it had taken to pull off that Wind Slash. Atlas had barely managed it, but he had. That determination, reckless and raw, had caught Torren's attention.
His gaze lingered on Atlas for a moment longer. There was something different about that boy—something he couldn't quite place yet.
Is that what it means to be Remalion
He was unpolished, yes, but full of potential.
Marcus, too, had impressed him. The boy's instincts and physical strength were exceptional, and his courage in leaping into the fray to save his companion showed a kind of loyalty Torren rarely saw among students. Together, they made an intriguing pair.
Still, their carelessness now was inexcusable. Lying exposed by the edge of a cliff, oblivious to the dangers around them… it would have been the perfect moment for a predator to strike again. But Torren couldn't fault them. They were young, inexperienced, and drained from their ordeal. Even so, he made a mental note to remind them later that survival required vigilance, even in moments of respite.
With a final glance at the two boys, Torren's smirk faded into something more neutral. "Let's see if you can keep this up," he murmured.
And with that, he stepped backward into the shadows of the canopy. His figure melted into the darkness, his presence vanishing as if he had never been there at all.