Hours had passed since the flare streaked across the night sky, marking the start of the final exam's second phase. Six hours now, to be exact. The moon hung like a pale coin above the treeline, silver light cutting through the drifting mist. The smell of damp earth clung to every leaf. Somewhere far off, the echoes of wooden swords colliding cracked through the dark, each one was a reminder that the night had not ended yet.
Esmarie breathed in the cold air, exhaling slowly:
"Great, I forgot how to get back to the others. I could've held that in for a few more hours."
Her shoes sank into the soft soil as she trudged through the brush, brushing branches aside with her forearm. She had gone off just for a minute, maybe three because nature doesn't care if you're in the middle of a final exam. The forest was a maze. One wrong turn and the shadows rearranged themselves. She made a mistake.
Still, she wasn't panicking. Not yet. Everything would be fine.
She forced a smile: "Relax, Esmarie. You're not lost, you're… temporarily exploring the scenic route."
Her voice bounced weakly between the trees. Even she didn't believe it.
Then snap.
A branch cracked nearby.
Her head lifted. Her instincts tightened like strings. She wasn't alone. Four silhouettes stepped out from behind the trees ahead, moonlight catching their shoulders. Leading them, was Drake. His easy grin looked friendly at first glance, but Esmarie's stomach sank. It wasn't the type of grin that meant hi. It was the type that meant danger.
Drake: "Well hello there. What're you doing all by yourself? Don't tell me you're alone?"
Esmarie blinked, forcing a small, cautious smile: "…Drake. I know how strong you are. I'm sure your team is doing well."
Drake: "Oh, we're doing very well," he said, stepping closer. His three teammates fanned out behind him, surrounding her space like hunters encircling a vampire. "We've met the passing criteria. But we're looking for someone specific."
Her grip tightened on her sword: "And that someone is?"
Drake: "Erika," he said simply. "I know she's in your group. Where is she?"
Esmarie's pulse spiked. She glanced between the four opponents, all stronger than her and clearly itching for a fight. Her brain screamed don't let them see fear. So she chuckled instead, light and airy: "Oh, her? Probably halfway to the other side of the forest by now setting up camp. You might wanna hurry before she starts charging rent out there."
Drake's smirk didn't fade: "Funny. But we both know you wouldn't be wandering this far if your team was that far ahead."
One of his teammates stepped forward, tall and sharp-featured, resting his sword against his shoulder: "Just tell us where she is, and we'll leave you alone. No need to make this messy."
Esmarie frowned, folding her arms with mock offense: "Messy? What, you guys planning to gang up on one girl?" She scoffs, "Men these days."
Drake's eyes narrowed not in anger, but amusement: "The only thing this exam cares about is survival. The stronger pass. The weak don't. That's the rule."
Esmarie: "Wow," she said, forcing a smile though her stomach twisted. "You sound like a motivational poster from a gym nobody would ever join."
He laughed softly, and for a moment she thought maybe they'd walk away.
Then he dropped his grin.
Drake: "Last chance. Where's Erika?"
She exhaled through her nose, fingers brushing the hilt of her wooden sword. And in that moment, she made a choice.
Esmarie: "You'll have to find her yourself. Because I'm not telling you."
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then the air snapped.
Drake's grin returned, sharp and cold: "Suit yourself."
The first teammate lunged.Esmarie's sword flashed upward just in time parrying the strike that would've cracked against her ribs. The shock ran up her arm, jarring but familiar. She twisted, ducked low, and swung toward the attacker's leg. He blocked, but the impact made him stumble half a step.
"Not bad," he hissed. "You've got bite."
Esmarie: "I've got plenty more," she shot back, trying to sound braver than she felt.
Then the other two joined in.
Sparks of wood clashing filled the area. The rhythm was fast, brutal, and real, not like the academy's safe sparring matches. These were blows meant to disarm, disable, dominate.
Esmarie danced between them, parrying high, dodging low. She wasn't strong enough to trade hits with them, so she relied on speed, and slipping between swings while redirecting their momentum. But four against one wasn't a fight, it was an avalanche.
One swing came from her left, another from her right. She blocked one, twisted, and the second clipped her shoulder, spinning her halfway around. Pain bloomed sharp and deep. She stumbled but didn't fall.
Drake hadn't even drawn his sword yet. He just watched her, arms crossed, a faint smirk on his lips as if he were observing some interesting creature struggle to climb a wall.
"Just tell us where Erika is!"
Esmarie gritted her teeth: "Not my style."
She darted forward suddenly, closing the gap between her and one of the others. The guy didn't expect her to attack, she caught his sword, hooked it, and swung. Her hilt struck his wrist, knocking the weapon loose. It hit the dirt.
For half a second, she thought she had the upper hand. Before she could react, Drake stepped in. His sword came out in a blur. The sound echoed as her blade shuddered under his. The sheer force numbed her arm. She tried to retreat, but he pressed forward, his strikes unrelenting. He wasn't attacking wildly. Every move was measured, as if he were testing her defenses piece by piece, dismantling them. Esmarie blocked another swing, barely. The impact jarred her to her knees. She gasped, chest heaving.
Esmarie: "Why?" she managed to breathe out. "You already have enough coins."
Drake: "You don't get it? I just want to fight Erika. You should've just told me where she is. You know what happens when weaklings pretend to be heroes?"
Esmarie's eyes flicked up, meeting his calm, cruel gaze.
"They break."
His strike came down.
She brought her sword up again, but her timing was off by a heartbeat. His blow slammed against her guard, sending her backward into the dirt. The impact knocked the wind out of her. The world spun, cold and heavy. Her wooden sword skidded out of reach. Her fingers trembled. Her body screamed to stay down.
But her stupid, loyal heart refused.
She pushed up onto one elbow, coughing. Her voice came out small, but steady: "…Even weaklings can have their moments."
Something flickered in her memory. The day she met Erika, and how she saw how talented she was as time passed. Esmarie had felt something twist in her chest. Admiration. Envy. Both. Erika shines so easily. And she has to work twice as hard just to be in the same picture. But Erika had never looked down on her. Never once. She shines too bright for her own good. That's why, right now, lying in the dirt with her body screaming in pain, Esmarie smiled.
If it's Erika, she can definitely take these jerks on. Especially with Sylvie and Shinatsu. But that wasn't the point. Even if they were guaranteed to beat them, she didn't want to sell them out. Because then, Esmarie would be running away.
Drake took a slow step forward, lowering his sword: "Still not talking, huh?"
She lifted her head, grinning through her ragged breathing: "Go fuck yourself."
For the first time that night, Drake's smirk faded. His expression hardened into something quieter, colder.
Esmarie grabbed her sword, stumbled to her feet, and raised her guard. The other 3 stepped back.
Drake's strike came faster than the last. Her defense fractured. She blocked one hit, then another, but the third slipped through, catching her side. She twisted, pain tearing through her ribs. Another blow followed, knocking her backward. Her grip slipped, sword barely hanging in her hand.
Still she fought.
Still she stood.
Her hairband came off. Her breaths were ragged and uneven. But the fire in her eyes hadn't gone out.
Esmarie: "Is that all you've got?" she laughed hoarsely, even as she staggered. "I've been through tougher group projects!"
Another swing came down. She blocked it, barely. Her sword splintered slightly at the edge, the wood was cracking under pressure, unlike her. She tried to counter but her knees buckled.
Drake stepped forward one last time, the moonlight outlining him like a phantom. He swung his sword horizontally, his strike hit her guard and sent her flying back, crashing into the dirt. The impact echoed. Her sword fell from her hand.
Esmarie wasn't moving, but Drake wasn't finished. He swung at her defenseless body several times. Blood painted the area around them.
After Drake finished, he nodded to his team: "Let's go. Erika can't be far."
They turned and walked off into the trees, fading into the darkness. Silence crept back into the forest. Esmarie lay there for what felt like forever. The cold wind pressed against her cheek. Her whole body trembled. Then, slowly, she smiled.
It wasn't a triumphant smile. It wasn't even proud. It was soft, exhausted, half-delirious.
Esmarie: "Erika… Did I look as cool as you back there?"
Her laugh came out broken, half-choked, but genuine. She reached out toward the sky, with her hand trembling. The moonlight glinted off her pale and bruised skin. She failed to win, but she didn't fail herself. Her hand fell back to the ground as her consciousness faded away. What was left was the unbroken will of a girl who refused to kneel.