Kira entered Zuko's group's sight like a shadow. She whispered, "Blood thorns."
Several hounds had their heads pierced at once. Blood spurted as the beasts struggled in their final moments before going still.
Her claws grew darker and longer as she started attacking, tearing apart the creatures below the tree.
Instructor Miller watched the scene in shock. Sweat formed on his back. This was the woman he had faced at the academy.
She was so fast.
He was Rank Two as well—but it didn't matter in the slightest.
What he couldn't accomplish in hours, she was doing effortlessly. Paw Hounds were being sliced apart like vegetables.
A Paw Hound came from behind her, slamming its hammer-like paws into her back.
"Look out—!" Miller screamed.
The paw rebounded as if it had struck steel. Kira didn't even stagger.
She turned around with a smile. "Blood thorn."
The hound dropped dead.
Drayen and Kael, who were behind her, reached a distance where they could see the fight clearly. Their eyes widened.
Even Kael—someone with a strong background—was shocked. He murmured, "So powerful…"
She continued tearing through the Paw Hounds. The hounds were coming at her nonstop. There were Shadow Hounds ambushing exact weak spots, but Kira had good sensing abilities. Still, it was becoming annoying. She moved like the wind, changing directions nimbly and slashing the hounds with her claws. They couldn't keep up with her speed. She had completely dominated the field, and before long, every Paw Hound lay dead.
She swung her claws one last time. Blood sprinkled through the air as her claws slowly returned to normal. She looked a bit tired. She was strong, but fighting so many hounds took a toll even on her.
The fresh blood stench filled the air. As many hounds lay motionless, some were still alive, but in a few minutes they would join their companions. They were still growling with hoarse voices, "Grrrr."
Kira didn't want to linger any longer to collect cores or finish off the remaining hounds. Something was wrong. It felt way too unnatural.
"Get the students," she said. "We're leaving."
The crooked-faced instructor didn't argue. He simply nodded and moved.
But his bleeding was too severe; he staggered and almost fell, tripping over a hound corpse. Jim helped him up. "Instructor Miller…"
Drayen looked at the blood soaking his shirt as the instructor limped forward with Jim's help. He stepped ahead.
"Let me help."
He used his ability—but the wound was too deep. The white dust couldn't do much. Drayen's ability wasn't comparable to the old woman in Etherion. His ability was Rank One, "Few Butterfly Dust," while the woman had the higher-rank version, "Butterfly Dust." He spread it around the wound anyway, slowing the bleeding as much as he could.
This skill wasn't strong enough to heal the instructor.
For the first time, Drayen felt his nightmare essence running low. It was a strange sensation, a hollow feeling in his heart core.
He called Wing.
[Nightmare Essence: 7/100]
He sighed when he saw the result. It not only felt hollow, but it also felt insecure. Nightborne, although they had mystical powers and could be seen as superior to humans in every way, were helpless without essence. Without essence, a Nightborne was just a common human. A Nightborne was only considered a Nightborne if he had abilities, nightmare essence, and skills for combat and the use of abilities. Without any of that, they were just weaklings. Of course, without nightmare essence, there were a few Nightbornes who had passives—for example, Kira and Kael—but it was very rare.
--
They were about to move out after administering first aid. Kira sensed it before anybody could.
From within the darkness ahead, a short man clapped his hands. "Good fight."
The others couldn't see him. But Kira could.
An old man stood among the shadows. There were others with him as well—figures whose presence was hidden among the shadows of the forest.
And then she felt it clearly. A Rank Three aura rolled outward—deliberate, oppressive.
Drayen and the others also felt a sudden chill run through their spines.
"Everyone, get ready," Kira said, her expression turning grave. The aura of Rank Three made the others feel an intimidation, and her warning only added fuel to it.
She stepped forward. Miller moved with her. His back was still injured, blood seeping through the hastily treated wound, but he had no choice. The students behind them were far weaker than him.
The old man moved. One moment he stood in the shadows of the jungle—the next, he was above them, landing lightly on a thick branch in front of the group. His dark shadow leather fluttered in the air.
"Impressive," he said, his voice calm. "Very impressive, Lady." A faint smile touched his lips. It wasn't amused. It was grave.
Drayen felt a chill crawl up his spine when he saw that expression. The old man's gaze swept over them without urgency.
"By the laws of the Houndswell," he continued evenly, "you stand accused of robbing those under noble protection."
His aura pressed down harder. "Sentence will be carried out immediately."
Instructor Miller spoke, panic creeping into his voice. "Wait—wait. We didn't do anything."
The old man's faint smile returned. "Ask that boy."
He pointed at Kael.
Crime… robbing? Kael's thought flashed. Was he talking about the scam?
All gazes landed on him. He didn't know what to tell them, but Instructor Miller and Kira felt it was just a façade, so they didn't bother to interrogate him or hold him accountable.
The old man shook his head. "Don't waste time. It's just what will be written in the official documents."
Kira and Instructor Miller, who had already suspected the issue, confirmed their theory. This had never been about robbing.
He didn't speak further. He flashed forward, appearing in front of the injured instructor.
His speed was terrifying. One of his hands grew massive, black-brown fur spreading over it, claws lengthening as it swung toward Miller—aimed to end his life.
Miller couldn't react to the speed of a Rank Three. He could only stare at the claw descending toward him, knowing it would tear him apart.
Kira thought, Blood Strength. Shadow Speed. She stacked them over her passive.
In an instant, she appeared in front of him, dark black claws meeting the old man's strike—holding back his massive claws head-on.
She pushed him back. She didn't give him any time, kicking him immediately. He stumbled back a few steps, but he wasn't injured in the slightest.
"Oh, excellent. A Rank Two girl could keep up with my speed. Excellent, excellent," he said with an amusing smile.
He started exchanging moves with her. She was not on the back foot even against a Rank Three Nightborne. She matched his blows with blows, kicks with kicks. The old man started going aggressive with his paws. He jumped around like a monkey with his giant paws. He looked like a monkey with monster hands.
Drayen thought, She wasn't lying at all.
Seeing the combat of Rank Three was totally different. It was like two dinosaurs were clashing.
She kicked the old man, forcing him to take a step back.
He laughed. "Heheheh. Unbelievable talent. But you are up against Rank Three, girl." His face turned stiff.
The old man's aura surged.
Kira and the others backed away a little.
Drayen and the others' faces turned pale.
His short body began to expand. His hands and thighs swelled grotesquely as his clothes tore apart. In moments, he stood nearly three meters tall. Black-brown hair burst forth, covering his body.
He had transformed into a bear.
Their expressions only worsened as the transformation completed. The massive bear loomed before them, its claws and fangs glinting—terrifying in every sense.
Kira's face darkened as she saw his transformation. She could fight a Rank Three, but that didn't mean she could do it without paying a price.
She glanced at the students behind her and gritted her teeth.
Vampiric Dragon Transformation.
Power surged violently through her body as abilities from two bloodlines layered over one another. Black scales crawled across her skin. Her eyes bled into crimson, and sharp fangs pushed past her lips, unmistakably vampiric.
The black-brown bear growled. Despite its size, its speed was terrifying. Kira dodged its attack and slashed across its back. She licked the blood from her claws. Her strength was amplified. She signaled with her fingers.
The bear jumped at her, raising both paws and slamming them down. Kira dodged using Shadow Escape. With her transformation active, her speed was overwhelming.
Two trees collapsed as if they were nothing more than chopsticks under the bear's strike. It growled violently as it realized its speed couldn't keep up with her.
Suddenly, it shifted its target.
Jim.
The bear launched its massive body upward, aiming to crush the boy. Miller saw it and shoved Jim away as he fell, activating his wooden body.
But a mere Rank Two defensive skill wasn't enough. He was about to turn into muscle paste.
Kira struck at the last moment, forcing its trajectory to shift—but it was too late. Miller's right arm was smashed as bones and tendons broke. Miller screamed loudly in pain, "Haaaaw!" He held his right arm, which was hanging uselessly, fully disabled, while his left hand stopped the bleeding. He gritted his teeth as his left-hand fingers transformed into vines, sealing the wound. He was flinching and shaking from the pain.
Kira roared in anger. "Coward!"
She unleashed an amplified strike against the bear's head, leaving it stunned for a brief second. Should I ask them to run? she thought. She didn't want to do this—they couldn't go to Houndswell, the only village they knew. Not to mention, they had ventured deep inside the forest, and guards were already waiting to hunt them. Her vision cleared as she made her decision.
"Run!" she shouted, turning toward them.
The old man didn't want to let them escape. She was strong. He didn't want to admit it, but if it were one versus one, he didn't have confidence in winning against her. He knew she was held back because she had to protect others while fighting. He didn't want to lose this advantage. Internally, he was panicked.
A young man's voice rang out. "I'm afraid it's too late, pretty girl."
He was a short boy with black hair and arrogance dancing on his face, sitting atop a massive Strength Paw Hound, Rank Two tainted. It resembled an oversized hunting dog, but its paws were grotesquely large. Five Rank One guards stood behind him.
The old man laughed as he rose to his feet. He was happy to see his grandson arrive at the perfect timing. Although he had warned him not to move, his grandson's disobedience made him praise him instead of scolding him. The timing was perfect.
The old man spoke in his harsh voice.
"It's impressive that you can fight me," he said. "You might even have a chance of defeating me if we were alone."
His gaze swept over the students and the injured instructor. "But how will you protect them while fighting all of us?"