The void around them twisted. The ruined chamber, the treasure, even the suffocating weight of stone and dust—all of it dissolved.
Itekan, Itoyea, and Kutote found themselves standing in a boundless space, a world painted in shifting light and shadow. The air was thin, dreamlike, but the pressure clinging to their bodies told them this was no dream.
A figure stood across from them. Jairus—calm, unreadable, his white suit gleaming faintly against the dark horizon. His glasses caught the light like twin blades.
"You've stepped into my realm," he said, his voice echoing without source. "Here, I am undeniably the strongest. You may be wondering why I have chosen you three. This is a test—not just of your bodies, but of your spirits." His tone hardened. "Techniques first."
The world buckled. His hand rose, and the stars overhead seemed to collapse. Blades of light formed in the sky, thousands of them descending like divine punishment.
"Move!" Itoyea roared, his sword flashing to meet the first strike. The clang resounded through the void, but every deflection sent tremors racing down his arms.
Kutote's red spirit blazed, his technique All Counter flaring outward to shield them. The scarlet shield snarled against the rain of blades, but cracks rippled through it almost immediately.
Itekan dissolved into shadow, reappearing at Jairus' flank with daggers flashing—only for Jairus' hand to sweep casually, a shockwave of force hurling him back like a ragdoll.
They regrouped, battered but unbroken. No words passed between them, yet the resolve in their eyes aligned. Again and again they clashed with Jairus' storm—Kutote straining to anchor their defenses, Itoyea carving through wave after wave, Itekan weaving fireballs and daggers through the shadows.
But it was impossible. Nothing they did fazed him. Still, they did not yield.
At last Jairus lifted his hand and the storm ceased. The void quieted. His gaze swept over them—unchanged, yet Itekan could sense something else hidden in it: acknowledgment.
"Enough," Jairus said. "You endure. That is strength."
"Hey, man! What the heck was that?!" Itekan roared.
"Who gave you the credentials to judge us?!" Itoyea shouted, equally furious.
"Stop." Kutote's voice was low, but firm. "He's much stronger than all of us combined. We attacked with everything we had, but he never even went all out." His frustration cracked through his calm. He had thought they were at least approaching the level of the Archem Knights. Now he could see they weren't even close.
The battlefield dissolved into rippling water and pale starlight. Endless pillars of light rose around them, stretching into infinity. The three boys walked forward, their footsteps leaving ripples on the glassy surface. Itekan and Itoyea realized how right Kutote was—Jairus had only been trying them. They never had a chance of victory.
Jairus' voice dropped, solemn. "I acknowledge your strength. You are what—fourteen, fifteen? Yet your power rivals that of masters. But strength alone forges nothing. The Archem Knights were bound by more—by intent, by vow. That is what I must test next."
His eyes grew distant. "I saw our betrayal before it fell… but I was powerless to stop it. And now Absolam plots again. I have seen Corinth and Absolam's pact—made in secret, sealed in blood."
"Absolam!?" they shouted in unison, shock splitting their composure. Kutote trembled, and Itekan and Itoyea noticed.
"How could you possibly know that?" Kutote whispered, almost pleading.
"Because of my ability. Overseerer. My sight spans the entire Talbata Federation. I saw their treachery long before you seven arrived." His hand clenched. "I watched as our nation died, as my brothers fell. And I could do nothing. I do not know Corinth's plan—but if Absolam is involved, it can only end in ruin."
He turned back to them, eyes burning. "Now I ask you. The burden I carry cannot be forced upon you. If you would avenge us, if you would carry King Mallory's legacy and restore the honor of the Archem Knights—it must be by your choice."
Silence. Heavy as stone.
Itekan's jaw clenched. Deep down, he had always known their path would cross with Corinth's. It wasn't a question of if, only when. Better to prepare than stumble blind. He raised his chin. "I'll do it."
Itoyea exhaled, smirking faintly though there was no joy in it. "You always leap first. But… you're right. Corinth's hands are never clean. If Absolam's with him, then whatever they're planning will be worse. And we already have our reasons to hate him." He raised his sword. "I'm with you."
Kutote lingered, torn. Revenge meant nothing to him. Legacy, even less. All he wanted was to never cross Corinth again. And yet—he thought of Itekan and Itoyea. Of the way they would fight Corinth for him, simply because they knew what he had suffered. That was the kind of friends they were.
"Tch." He scowled. "Fine. But don't mistake me for some knight chasing ghosts. I'm here because you idiots won't last a day without me."
Itekan smirked. Itoyea chuckled. Jairus' gaze softened. "Motives matter little. Choice matters most. Very well."
He raised his hand. Three orbs of pale blue light materialized, drifting like fragments of the night sky. They hovered, one before each of them.
"These are fragments of the Archem Flame. Take them. They will sharpen your spirits, strengthen your resolve."
The orbs sank into their chests, dissolving in a pulse of warmth. A surge lit within them—fire fierce and clear. Their Spiritual Seas bottomed out, only to flood with Spiritual Energy purer than they had ever felt.
Itekan broke through to intermediate Blue Eyes Form. Itoyea's power surged close behind, and Kutote finally crossed into base Blue Eyes Form.
"This should help level the field," Jairus said.
"Th—thanks," Itekan murmured, unsure what to make of such sudden generosity.
Jairus turned. "I leave the rest to you."
But then his eyes narrowed. "You. Stay."
Before the others could speak, the void warped. Itoyea and Kutote vanished, leaving Itekan alone. Jairus' voice dropped, quieter than before.
"Son of the Shadow King."
Itekan's chest tightened. He had heard fragments of his father's story, but never knew of ties to the Archem Knights. "You knew my dad?"
"I knew him well. Your father, Carpathia, was once our savior. Before we became the Archem Knights—when we were only strays clinging to steel—he sheltered us. Saved us. That debt can never be repaid."
He reached up, plucking a strand of silver hair from his head. It glowed faintly, alive with quiet power. "For that, I will give you something of mine. Tell me. What weapon do you wield most?"
"Daggers," Itekan answered without hesitation.
The strand hardened, lengthened, shaping itself into a sleek blade no longer than his arm. A dark aura coiled around it, eager and sharp.
"I name this blade Moonveil Fang," Jairus declared. "Forged from my essence, bound to your soul. It will grow as you grow—your shadow and its edge will never part."
He placed it in Itekan's hand. The dagger felt impossibly light, yet steady enough to anchor his very soul.
"Use it well. And remember—the blood of Carpathia carries more than you know."
Before Itekan could ask, the void collapsed.
He woke with a gasp.
The ruined chamber returned—stone, dust, the suffocating air. Itoyea and Kutote stirred beside him, faint light still flickering from their bodies. In Itekan's grip, Moonveil Fang gleamed. It was real.
But there was no time to breathe.
The ceiling cracked. A roar of fire thundered as an enormous meteor broke through, falling like divine judgment. Heat scalded their skin even from afar. The sheer pressure pinned them in place.
They couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
"This—" Itoyea whispered hoarsely. "We can't stop it." Beside them, Rose, Avery, and Binturu unleashed their strongest strikes, but the meteor plummeted undeterred.
It filled their vision, blazing like the end of the world. All six of them gathered, despair closing in.
Then—
"All Mighty Emperor's Flame Fist! First Bout!"
A blazing fist, larger than the meteor itself, tore upward. It smashed into the falling mass, the ruin quaking from the impact. The meteor split apart, consumed in roaring flame until nothing remained but ash.
And standing there, spear slung across his shoulders, flames licking his knuckles—Korimer.
His grin was wild, his eyes burning bright.
"Did you miss me?" he shouted, twirling his spear. "The strongest trainee is back, baby!"
The six stared in disbelief—then laughter broke out, raw and unsteady. Relief flooded their exhaustion.
Korimer smirked, planting his spear into the ground. "You lot look like hell. Don't worry. From here on out—hell's got me to deal with."
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Spiritual Energy (SE)
Spiritual Sea (SS)
Spiritual Signature (SST)