The training field was eerily silent, save for the faint rustling of leaves stirred by the wind. The stillness seemed almost mocking, an illusion before the storm. Kodama stood at the edge of the field, his wooden mask obscuring his expression, his posture rigid with the weight of leadership. His eyes scanned the terrain—every rock, every patch of grass, every potential threat was already accounted for. He had prepared the field, weaving countless traps into the land, setting the stage for the ultimate test of his squad's cohesion.
Eight individuals stood at the opposite end, their expressions a mixture of skepticism and unease. They knew the rumors of his skills, the whispers of his abilities, but there was still doubt. He was level 3. They were level 5 or higher. It didn't add up. But Kodama didn't need to rely on power alone—he had a different approach. And today, he would force them to understand that.
"This is a test of your cooperation," Kodama's voice rang out, steady and clear. "Not your individual strength. If you can't work together, you will fail. And that failure will cost you far more than a bruised ego. It will cost you lives."
The weight of his words hung in the air, and without another pause, Kodama activated his traps.
The ground shifted beneath them, subtle at first, almost imperceptible. But then the first real test came—a pit opened beneath Kyran's feet, pulling him down into the earth with a sudden, inescapable force. The squad barely had time to react.
Leena, the stealth specialist, immediately vanished into the shadows, trying to avoid the traps, but as she moved, the earth beneath her feet seemed to resist, twisting unnaturally, forcing her to reconsider every step. It wasn't just the enemy she had to watch for—it was the land itself.
Kyran tried to warp the space around him, but before he could finish the spell, the ground beneath him cracked open, swallowing him whole. He cursed, his plan disrupted by the merciless precision of Kodama's preparation.
Kodama's mask remained impassive. He wasn't attacking—at least, not yet. He was watching, waiting for their first mistake. He wanted to see how they would adapt, how they would handle the pressure.
Rhia, the fire mage, reacted first, her hands glowing with molten energy as she cast a wave of heat, burning through the earth, clearing a path. Zephyr, the lightning mage, followed suit, sending arcs of energy sparking across the field, attempting to destabilize the terrain and illuminate hidden traps. But their power, as impressive as it was, wasn't enough. They were too fragmented. Each individual acted on instinct, but no one was coordinating with the others. It was chaos.
Kodama didn't move. He didn't need to. He was waiting for them to realize the lesson.
Lorra, the healer, was the first to make a mistake. She had started moving toward Kyran, trying to tend to his injuries, when the earth suddenly buckled beneath her feet. The pit was already triggered, but she was too slow to escape. Her focus had been on her teammate, her vulnerability clear. Before she could react, Kodama's verdant blade cut through the air, stopping just inches from her throat.
"Focus, Lorra!" Kodama's voice cut through the tension. "You are the heart of this team. The enemy knows it. You cannot afford to be distracted. Protect yourself."
Lorra's eyes widened, but she quickly retreated, shaken by how easily she had been outmaneuvered. The squad froze, the lesson setting in. They had failed to protect their healer, the one who could sustain them when they were on the brink.
Kodama straightened, his gaze sweeping over the team. "Every mistake you make here is a lesson. And those lessons come with consequences. If you cannot protect your weakest link, if you cannot coordinate, you will fall."
With that, he disappeared, vanishing into the shadows once more. His traps began to activate in tandem, his attacks coming swift and precise, testing the squad's coordination. They were reacting now, but it was too late. Their moves were disjointed, each member acting independently, trying to compensate for the chaos around them.
Toren, the earth mage, attempted to raise a barrier, but it crumbled under the weight of Kodama's traps. Rhia's fire cut through the air, but by the time she released her blast, Kodama had already repositioned, his movements too quick, too calculated. He wasn't just fighting them—he was teaching them a brutal lesson in precision.
"Do you understand now?" Kodama's voice echoed through the field. "Strength is not enough. It never is. You need more than raw power. You need unity. You need coordination. You need to be a team."
At that moment, something shifted. The squad members started communicating, their movements becoming more synchronized. Zephyr and Rhia worked together to clear the path, while Leena's stealth combined with Kyran's spatial manipulation to disorient the traps. Toren's barriers began to hold, offering them the protection they had been lacking. They weren't perfect yet, but they were improving.
Kodama watched from the shadows, his gaze sharp, his mask betraying nothing. He could have wiped them out at any moment, but he chose to let them fight back. It wasn't out of mercy; it was because they had learned. At least a little.
"Enough," Kodama's voice rang out, stopping the training. The squad stood panting, sweat dripping from their brows, their bodies sore from the intensity of the exercise. "You've made progress, but it's not enough. Not yet."
As the squad began to gather their equipment, a quiet conversation unfolded among them.
"That was insane," Rhia said, her voice laced with disbelief. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, still processing the training. "He was everywhere. Even when he wasn't attacking, he was controlling the battlefield. It felt like he knew every move we were about to make."
Kyran, usually the cocky one, nodded slowly. "I've fought some high-level opponents before, but that was... different. The way he manipulates the terrain, the precision of his magic control—it's like he's always one step ahead. His mana manipulation is insane. Every move is calculated."
Toren, looking down at his cracked barriers, sighed. "If he were level 5 or 6, we wouldn't have stood a chance. His abilities are surgical. He could've wiped us out in minutes."
Leena, usually quiet, spoke up with a seriousness that surprised them all. "He doesn't rely on brute force the way we do. His control over his magic is... surgical. Every movement is deliberate. He doesn't waste energy. He doesn't waste a single spell."
Zephyr glanced at Rhia. "Exactly. It's like he's out of our league, even though he's level 3. If he had the mana to match his skills, we wouldn't even be able to touch him."
Lorra, nursing her sore shoulder, gave a rueful smile. "He took me out without breaking a sweat. And I didn't even feel the trap. It was like I was already in it before I knew what happened. He's too calm. It's unnerving."
The squad stood in silence, processing what had just happened. They had been tested, not just by someone stronger, but by someone who had mastered every aspect of combat. He had turned each of them against themselves, forcing them to learn in the harshest way possible.
Rhia, breaking the silence, spoke with newfound respect. "You know, I've never seen anything like that. If he had a fraction of the mana we have, we'd be nothing but targets in his eyes. But instead, he's making us better. If we don't get our act together, we'll be lucky to even be a nuisance to him."
Kyran clapped his hands together, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by seriousness. "We need to stop thinking we're invincible just because we're all strong individually. We need to act like a team. Kodama's right. We're not a team yet."
Toren's voice was deep, thoughtful. "He's teaching us something we've all missed. We've been relying on raw power, but that doesn't win wars. It's the precision, the coordination. If we can't get that right, we'll just be a bunch of individuals with no real strength."
The squad nodded, the weight of their realization settling in. They had survived the training session, but it was clear the real work was just beginning. They needed to become more than just a group of powerful individuals. They needed to learn unity—and that would be the hardest lesson of all.
As they packed up, each member reflected silently, knowing that until they figured out how to work together, they would always be vulnerable. They had learned that today—thanks to Kodama's relentless teaching.
They weren't just learning to fight. They were learning to survive.