After the tea cooled and the rolls disappeared, the checkpoint slowly emptied.
Team Mika stayed back, Mika still brushing dust from her sleeves, Rei reorganizing her half-unpacked bags, and William… just unbothered, leaning against a tree like he had all the time in the world.
Blanche's team didn't linger.
Their break had been long enough.
They rose, silent, methodical.
Blanche tied her sleeves again. Yuxin cracked her knuckles with a stretch. Vila simply adjusted her stance, and Ruka took a deep breath as she tucked her plushie under one arm like a lifeline.
The forest path beyond the checkpoint narrowed again—roots thicker here, light dimmer, like the trees were closing in to whisper secrets they didn't want anyone to hear.
They jogged in rhythm. No words. Just breath and boots and leaf crunch.
The woods grew darker again the further they moved.
Canopy thicker. Air damper. The wind no longer breezed—it lingered, brushing the backs of necks like unseen fingers. Dirt gave way to stone, and even the birds quieted.
Team Blanche had left the checkpoint less than ten minutes ago.
Yuxin jogged at the front, sweat already drying off her temple. Vila moved just behind her, steps light, daggers flicking in and out of her fingers like restless breath. Ruka trailed carefully in the center, muttering minor enchantments under her breath, plushie tight in her arms.
"We really didn't have to go ahead," Ruka whispered. "I mean, we could've waited..."
"They were still folding napkins," Yuxin replied flatly. "We move or we rust."
The path twisted—then opened.
And there she was.
Seryn. Again.
Standing at the fork of the trail, calm as a painting.
And this time, she wasn't alone.
To her left, her three followers stood alert—but not tense. Observing. Silent.
Ahead of them—about fifteen meters past the treeline—something massive paced just out of reach. Its movements made no noise. Its presence drank light.
A bear.
No—an Astraga.
A wild one.
Its body was stitched from dense shadow, rippling like oil in a storm. Bone jutted from its shoulders, ribs cracked open and pulsing with dim, ember-like glow. Its eyes were hollow—but they tracked everything.
The bear snarled, low and wrong.
Its growl echoed twice—once from its mouth, once from the ether.
Seryn turned slightly as Team Blanche arrived.
She smiled again. That same calm ripple of politeness over deep water.
"Oh. Hello again."
Yuxin slowed her jog to a stop, frowning.
"Seriously?"
"I do apologize," Seryn said, not sounding remotely sorry. "We were just admiring it."
Vila stepped beside Yuxin, eyes narrowing at the beast.
"That's no ordinary creature."
"Indeed not," Seryn murmured. "It wandered in from the veiled ridge sector. It's... territorial."
Ruka stiffened, her voice hushed.
"I-is it going to attack?"
Seryn gave the faintest shrug.
"It's guarding the path forward. We thought it'd be unwise to engage without cause."
Yuxin's brow twitched.
"And yet you're... standing right in front of it."
"Observation is a form of strategy," Seryn replied. "Besides, I had a feeling you three would arrive next."
"Great," Yuxin muttered. "So we're bait."
"Not at all," Seryn said gently. "But if one were inclined to... clear the path, I wouldn't stop them."
Blanche, who had arrived just behind them, raised one brow.
"How generous of you."
Seryn smiled wider.
"I simply respect initiative."
Vila stepped forward, arms at her side, eyes still locked on the bear.
"It's not going to let anyone pass. Not without a fight."
"We don't have time to wait for it to wander off," Blanche said. "Yuxin?"
Yuxin cracked her knuckles, shadow tendrils already curling around her fingers.
"Say less."
The bear snapped its gaze toward them the moment energy stirred.
It roared—a sound that vibrated the dirt—and charged.
"Positions!" Blanche barked.
"Here we go," Yuxin muttered, stepping forward.
Vila vanished into the left brush, blades drawn.
Ruka raised her hand, breath shaking.
The shadows flared.
The ground shook.
And Team Blanche moved to fight.
The bear lunged.
Its limbs pounded against the ground like iron battering rams, and every step released tendrils of that choking black fog—half-shadow, half-decay. The bones visible along its shoulder cracked unnaturally, like they weren't meant to hold weight, but did anyway.
And it was coming fast.
Blanche didn't flinch.
She raised one arm, signaling a quick cross-gesture that the rest of her team understood instantly.
"Yuxin. Ruka. Handle this one."
Yuxin's shadow tendrils snapped to life as soon as her name left Blanche's mouth.
"About time," she muttered, stepping forward with complete lack of fear, as if she were about to spar with a grumpy house cat instead of a nightmare bear with corpse shoulders.
Ruka's eyes widened, but she nodded quickly, adjusting her grip on her plushie.
Blanche leaned sideways toward Vila, lowering her voice—barely above a breath.
"Keep your eyes on Seryn."
Vila didn't even blink.
"Already am."
Her stance shifted. Calm. Relaxed. But every muscle slightly tensed, tuned to sense any movement from the woman still standing several meters behind them—observing.
Seryn hadn't moved.
She was still watching, arms folded loosely, lips faintly curled.
"How efficient," she murmured.
Yuxin didn't wait.
The shadow beneath her split into four separate claws, then surged forward in arcs—sharp, fluid, dancing like a living creature as they rushed to meet the bear mid-charge.
The bear roared—no sound, just a guttural emptiness that echoed in the bones.
Yuxin darted sideways. Her footwork was tight, angular. Not elegant—precise. She weaved around the beast's massive claw, one shadow forming a blade that slammed against its ribcage to push momentum, not slice.
It turned.
Which was exactly what she wanted.
"Ruka."
"Right!"
Ruka raised her hands, her voice catching for half a second—but not her magic. A pulsing dome of barrier energy blinked into place right behind Yuxin—a fallback point. Then she whispered something to her plushie, and a faint white glow encased Yuxin's outline.
A resilience buff. Physical reinforcement. Her bones would take more impact now.
Yuxin felt it instantly.
She smirked.
"Finally, you're getting faster."
The bear lunged again, claws sweeping in a wide arc.
Yuxin didn't dodge this time.
She stepped into it, letting her shadow burst upward like a geyser—intercepting the strike mid-swing, then wrapping around the bear's arm like a steel snake.
Locked.
One second.
Enough.
Her right hand snapped up, and the shadows under the beast rippled violently, surging into a thin, spear-like tendril that struck upward toward its underbelly.
The bear roared again. Louder. Angrier.
Not wounded.
But now cautious.
"Ruka, eyes on the core," Yuxin muttered.
Ruka narrowed her focus. Her eyes flicked—lower torso, shifting ribs, chest bone—
"There," she pointed. "Under the neck. Right shoulder cavity. That's where the Astraga's heart is pulsing."
Yuxin didn't even nod.
She vanished.
Quick Step.
Her shadow popped from one spot to another—just to the left of the bear's chest, her previous form evaporating into mist behind her. Her hand thrust forward, and the shadow formed a single narrow lance, aimed perfectly for the cavity.
The beast tried to twist—
Too late.
The shadow tore through.
The bear collapsed mid-lurch, dissolving into mist and bone fragments. The scent of scorched mana and wild Pacta magic lingered like burnt air.
Yuxin landed on one knee.
"Done."
Behind them, Blanche hadn't moved either.
She'd watched every second.
So had Seryn.
And now, she finally clapped once—slow and soft.
"Beautifully done."
Blanche didn't smile.
"We're moving on."
Seryn bowed her head.
"As expected of your team."
No sarcasm.
But something colder: amusement.
Vila stepped forward slightly beside Blanche.
Seryn's eyes flicked to her, briefly, curiously.
Blanche turned away without another word.
"Ruka. Yuxin. Regroup."
"Already done," Yuxin said, flicking her wrist. The last remnants of the bear's black mist dissipated into her shadow.
Ruka hurried over, slightly pale but smiling—just a little.
They had barely turned away when Seryn's voice drifted forward again, light as mist, yet impossible to ignore.
"That was impressive."
Blanche stopped mid-step. Not because the compliment startled her—but because she was trained to read what's behind a compliment.
She turned back slowly, face composed, tone careful.
"We handled what needed to be handled."
Seryn approached them at an unhurried pace, her hands clasped behind her back, her every step measured like part of some invisible choreography. The leaves didn't even crunch beneath her boots.
"Efficient. Coordinated. Adaptable. You're no longer just playing catch-up."
Blanche didn't respond right away. She folded her arms—not defensively, but to signal she wasn't rushing.
"That sounds like you think we're contenders."
Seryn tilted her head, as if amused by the understatement.
"You are. Or at least, you could be."
There was no emphasis on the words. No teasing. Just… curiosity, wrapped in logic.
Blanche's gaze didn't waver.
"I assume you're trying to win this tournament. Why encourage us?"
Seryn's smile curled at the edge. Not sharp. Not warm. Something… curved.
"Who says I'm here to win?"
Blanche narrowed her eyes slightly. This was the part of conversation where facts stopped mattering and the intent began to bleed through.
"Then what are you here for?"
Seryn looked toward the trail ahead—where the bear had once stood, and now only vapor remained.
She inhaled softly.
"Kael."
Just one name.
It carried more weight than a paragraph.
"So you joined a school-sanctioned tournament just to stop him?"
"Winning is optional," Seryn said. "Making sure he doesn't isn't."
Blanche let the silence hang a moment, just to test if Seryn would continue.
She didn't.
So Blanche pushed—carefully.
"That sounds dangerously close to cheating."
Seryn's expression didn't change, but her tone thinned.
"That sounds dangerously close to a word I never used."
Blanche's lips pressed together.
"And now?"
"Now," Seryn said, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I think I might pivot."
"Pivot?"
"Yes. I could try a new approach. One that… keeps my hands clean. For once."
She paused, then took two deliberate steps closer. Her eyes flicked briefly to Yuxin, to Ruka, to Vila—then returned to Blanche.
"That bear? I could've dealt with it. Eventually. But I let you."
"You wanted to observe."
"I wanted to see if I could use you."
That honesty didn't land like a slap. It landed like the sudden awareness that you were already inside someone else's plan.
Blanche didn't flinch.
"Use us for what?"
"To stop Kael. If he advances, he'll make the final rounds bloody. Uncontrolled. And if he wins…" she trailed off, then added calmly, "he'll weaponize it."
"You're not concerned about the others?"
"The others want prestige. Kael wants a platform."
Blanche stayed quiet.
"If he wins," Seryn continued, "he'll demand the Pit be legitimized. And the council will listen, because that's what the Champion's Right guarantees—one wish, any wish, no negotiation."
Blanche's brows furrowed slightly.
"And if you win?"
"Then I get the same privilege," Seryn said, voice still level. "And maybe I push my own agenda. Maybe I request Viridia Hollow be recognized as a formal research annex. No more smuggling. No more inspection delays. Clean. Legal. Funded."
Blanche processed that.
"That would tip the balance."
"Exactly. The North and South would resist. The West would act without leash. The East?" She smiled faintly. "Would thrive."
Another silence passed.
Then Seryn tilted her head.
"But I'm offering you something more… straightforward."
"And that is?"
"Let me test Kael my way. If it fails, you stop him. Not for my sake. Not even for the tournament. For the aftermath."
Blanche's voice lowered.
"Why us?"
Seryn's eyes softened—but not in kindness.
"Because you're clean. You still believe in rules. I don't. If I beat him, it won't be a victory. It'll be a message. But if you beat him… that's something the academy will respect."
She took a final step back, letting the offer hang like an unsheathed knife balanced between them.
"Consider it."
Then she turned without waiting for an answer.
And disappeared again into the trees.