The training grounds of the Dawnyu Sect had always been a place of brutal discipline. Today, it felt more like a battlefield than a place for learning. The distant sound of clashing weapons and the hum of spiritual energy hung in the air, but all of that faded to a distant murmur as Zhen Hu stood in the center of the field, alone.
The morning mist wrapped around him like a suffocating cloak. His breath, ragged and uneven, filled the cool air with each exhale. His body throbbed with the aftermath of yesterday's sparring. Blood still clung to his robes, a dark stain against the black fabric.
But this was nothing.
Aelira's presence surrounded him. He could feel her, a shadow just beyond his peripheral vision. Her silence was heavier than the weight of his fatigue.
"You are weak," Aelira's voice slithered into his mind, low and cold, without warmth or encouragement. "Weakness will have no place in the Examination. If you think your current strength will suffice, you are mistaken."
Zhen Hu's fists clenched, his bones aching. He hadn't felt this tired since the first time he had awakened the Nytherion within him. But there was no time for rest. No time for weakness.
"You've bled before. It won't be the last time," Aelira continued, her voice not soothing, but instructive. "You will bleed again today. But you must survive it. Or I will leave you to die."
His eyes narrowed. He didn't respond. He couldn't. Every word she spoke cut deeper than any blade. His teeth ground together, his jaw clenched tight. The burn in his muscles was almost unbearable, but he welcomed it. He had to.
With no further warning, Aelira appeared before him, translucent, her figure more solid now, the faint glow of her form blending with the mist. Her expression was cold, her eyes dark pits of ancient knowledge.
"I will train you, Zhen Hu. But know this— I will not go easy on you. The moment you hesitate, the moment you fail, I will kill you."
Zhen Hu's breath caught, but he did not flinch. He had long since learned that hesitation was his enemy.
The air around them grew thick, almost suffocating, as Aelira raised her hand. Her fingers extended, and the ground beneath him trembled.
"Fight me. With everything you have. And if you dare hesitate, I will make sure you learn the true meaning of pain."
Before he could react, she vanished, and the next moment, she was upon him.
Aelira's first strike was blinding. A phantom limb reached out, slashing across his chest with a force that sent him stumbling back, his breath escaping in a strangled gasp. The force of the blow left a deep gash in his robes, blood spilling across the ground as his skin split open.
But there was no time to wince. No time to feel the sting of the cut. Zhen Hu gritted his teeth and swung back with a punch, his fist connecting with thin air as Aelira vanished again, only to reappear behind him.
"Faster!" she snapped. "Don't react—anticipate. I will kill you if you let me touch you again."
Her voice was cruel, unrelenting. Zhen Hu's heart pounded in his chest, and his muscles screamed for respite, but there was no mercy. He had to push forward. His life depended on it.
He could feel Nytherion stirring inside him, hungry for death. The energy called to him, whispering promises of power. But he fought against it. He couldn't afford to lose control.
Again, Aelira was upon him, a flash of motion too fast for his eyes to follow. This time, he was ready. He shifted his weight, stepping sideways just as her hand slashed at his throat. The movement felt too smooth, too instinctive, as if something darker within him was guiding his actions.
But his success was fleeting.
Her knee slammed into his ribs, cracking bone with an audible snap. Zhen Hu gasped, pain surging through his chest. He fell to one knee, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Every breath burned. Every heartbeat pulsed with agony.
"Weak," she whispered, her voice cutting through his thoughts like a blade. "You will die like this if you don't learn to fight with your mind, not just your body."
She was gone again, and before he could react, her energy swirled around him, manifesting as a spear of ghostly light. She thrust it forward, aiming for his heart.
In that moment, something broke inside him. Desperation flooded him like a tide. His hand shot up, a surge of Nytherion pulsing through his palm as he deflected the spear with a violent twist of his body.
The force of the blow sent a shockwave through the ground, knocking him backward, but the spirit energy around him suddenly intensified, as if the world itself were pushing against him.
Aelira appeared again, her form flickering like a dying ember. Her expression twisted into something almost predatory. "That's it," she purred. "You're beginning to understand. But it's not enough yet."
Her voice turned darker, more dangerous, as she surrounded him. "You will die now, Zhen Hu."
And then she attacked with the fury of a storm.
Blow after blow rained down upon him. He dodged, blocked, parried, and struck, but nothing was enough. She seemed to appear in every direction at once. The pain in his body was overwhelming, his thoughts scattered like broken glass. The world around him blurred as his vision filled with red—blood, his own, coating his skin, dripping from his wounds.
But he didn't stop. He couldn't. He would not let her kill him.
He leapt to his feet, his body screaming in protest, his energy a fragile thread. His breath came ragged as his eyes locked onto her, the coldness in her expression igniting something within him. He raised his hand, Nytherion swirling violently in his palm. He didn't wait to think. He lashed out, a jagged, death-born blast of energy aimed at her.
For a moment, everything went still. Then, the blast exploded against Aelira's form, sending her crashing into the dirt with a violent shockwave. The ground cracked beneath her, the air stilled with the weight of his power.
He stood, trembling, blood dripping from his hands. His body was broken, battered, but his mind was alive with the rush of survival.
Aelira rose slowly, her figure flickering like a dying star, the faintest smile curling at the corner of her lips.
"Well done," she murmured. "But remember—this was only the beginning. The true test has yet to come."
Zhen Hu fell to his knees, his vision swimming with blackness. Every fiber of his being screamed for release. But through it all, he knew one thing: the battle wasn't over. He had learned something. Something dark, something primal. And it would be the edge he needed to survive