Caesar stood on the soft sand, straightening his posture as he wiped a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth and flicked it aside. Then he tightened his stance, something reminiscent of a boxer's posture, yet far more fluid. His feet dug lightly into the ground, and his shoulders rolled with relaxed readiness. He looked nothing like a traditional fighter; his body held a flexibility that made his movements unpredictable, almost serpentine.
On the opposite side, Vale lowered his frame slowly, his gaze locked on Caesar with intense focus. His stance was… strange, Unique. Untaught by any school or martial tradition. His left leg hovered just above the sand, his right arm curved upward like the talon of a beast, and his left arm relaxed behind his back as if waiting for a moment to strike.
'He looks knowledgeable,' Vale thought. 'But his posture doesn't match his body.'
Caesar must have sensed the boy examining him, because he gave a faint, gentle smile.
"Hey, just so you know, I can't go easy on you," he said awkwardly. "If I do, it'll mess up the whole test. So, uh… no hard feelings, alright?"
Vale raised a brow. Then after a brief pause, he nodded. "Yeah, Same here."
Those were their last words before the fight truly began.
Caesar moved first.
He launched forward with incredible speed, easily matching a top athlete, maybe surpassing one. Sand kicked up in a spray behind him. He dipped low, closing the distance in a heartbeat, then shot upward with a heavy uppercut.
Vale's eyes sharpened. He had read the movement and slipped aside with ease.
'I should observe his patterns first,' Vale thought.
Caesar corrected instantly, shifting weight and throwing a swift series of jabs, each one packed with more intent than the last. Vale dodged them too, ducking, weaving, sliding away as both fighters struggled for stable footing in the loose sand. Their steps sank and shifted with each movement, the terrain becoming an invisible challenger of its own.
On the sidelines, Rose watched with shining eyes, Ember perched atop her head with a wagging tail. Evelyn rolled her eyes, muttering something about Caesar showing off. Tharion stood still, hand on his chin, observing every movement like a scholar dissecting a rare phenomenon. Even Levianthe looked subtly engaged, her presence heavy but calm.
Then Caesar shifted.
It happened subtly at first, a change in his stance, a lowering of his shoulder. But Vale felt it like a pulse: Caesar's energy condensed, sharpened, aligning with a singular deadly intent.
Vale's heart skipped.
Caesar's grin widened dark and excited, a fighter finally getting serious.
He vanished.
Not literally, but his speed leaped beyond what he had shown before. Sand exploded behind him as he tore forward, appearing in front of Vale in less than an instant. Vale barely managed to tilt his head aside, a jab slicing past his cheek.
Even without touching him, the force cut skin.
A thin line of blood trickled down Vale's face.
'That blow… it hurt without landing,' Vale realized, eyes widening.
Before he could fully recover, Caesar's leg whipped around. A kick. Fast, too fast.
'Not good.'
Vale raised a leg to soften the impact, but even then, the kick slammed into him like a hammer. Pain shot through his body, the world spinning as he tumbled backward through the sand. He ground his foot into the ground and skidded to a stop, breath sharp, chest burning.
Caesar was already coming for him again, faster this time, the sand erupting with each of his steps.
'I can't just keep dodging…' Vale thought. 'If I don't fight back, I'll get seriously hurt, Or worse.''
The crowd murmured with excitement, even Evelyn's annoyance shifted into curiosity.
Vale exhaled once, long and steady.
His expression hardened.
He made his decision.
Caesar closed the distance, preparing a devastating punch, a strike powerful enough to incapacitate any normal opponent. Vale, however… did not move.
He stood perfectly still.
"Kid?!" Caesar managed before committing fully.
The punch slammed into Vale's face directly, snapping his head back. Blood burst from his nose instantly, but this had been Vale's plan all along.
There was only one technique he possessed that could help him defeat someone so vastly superior physically:
Use their own force against them.
As he stumbled backward, Vale dug one foot deep into the sand, anchoring himself. His other leg coiled like a spring, his body twisting in a fluid motion. And then,
He spun.
A counterstrike, clean, sharp, and perfectly timed.
His heel rocketed upward into Caesar's jaw with brutal precision.
A solid CRACK echoed across the dunes.
Caesar's eyes rolled, his body going limp as he collapsed into the sand, unconscious before he hit the ground.
Vale swayed. His gum was bleeding, his nose streaming, his jaw throbbing. But a smile crept across his lips. A small one. A victorious one.
He'd done it.
He'd beaten him.
But the smile lasted only an instant.
A cold, iron grip clamped around Vale's extended leg.
His eyes widened.
Caesar, supposedly unconscious, was rising. Slowly, mechanically, with a dead man's balance. His head hung forward, blood dripping from his mouth, yet his fingers dug into Vale's leg with frightening strength.
And Caesar's eyes…
They were open again.
Empty and Awake.
Vale's breath hitched.
His victory, his hard-won, painful, desperate victory, wasn't a victory at all.
Caesar's fingers tightened around his leg like a vice, and Vale felt the man's energy twist and sharpen again, becoming even more terrifyingly refined. Something old, mechanical, and predatory awakened inside the brunette man, a presence far colder than his earlier arrogance.
But Vale… Vale refused to yield.
For reasons he couldn't explain, something primal surged inside him. A need to win, not out of pride, not out of ego, but out of something deeper, darker. Something instinctual. His jaw clenched so violently that several teeth cracked, sharp pain spearing up his skull.
Caesar moved.
Vale saw it coming, a fast, brutal jab aimed straight at his torso. But Vale had seen enough of Caesar's fighting style to react. As the punch came forward, Vale shifted with desperate precision. He wrapped himself around Caesar's extended arm, not just his legs but his entire body, redirecting Caesar's weight and twisting his center of gravity.
Caesar stumbled.
He crashed face-first into the sand, letting out a muffled growl of irritation.
Vale landed atop him in a dominant position he hated using, a tactic he considered cheap, even dishonorable. But survival trumped decency, and the position granted him one awful advantage: he had Caesar's arm trapped in a way that made it easy, very easy to snap.
A wild grin flickered across Vale's bloodied face.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"No hard feelings."
Then he twisted.
The crack that followed was unmistakable, sharp, clean, and sickening.
But the moment it echoed through the sandy air, something inside Vale collapsed. A wave of dread washed over him, knocking the breath from his lungs. His pupils constricted. Cold sweat burst across his skin.
'What… was that feeling?'
Somewhere deep inside, something old and terrified stirred.
Vale leapt back instinctively, slipping on the sand as panic clawed at his spine.
But he had no time to process it.
Caesar's broken body vanished.
Vale froze. His mind screamed. He reached out with his senses, searching, tracking the refined, eerie energy signature that had replaced the Caesar he knew.
He found it.
"Right…" Vale whispered, voice shaking.
He turned just in time to see a fist already flying toward him, far too fast to dodge. His eyes widened,
but the blow never hit.
A hand appeared before Vale, a single pale palm stopping the strike dead in the air. The impact exploded sand in every direction, blasting Vale's hair and clothes back.
Evelyn.
She stood between him and death, her expression razor-sharp and cold.
Vale collapsed backward onto the sand, breathing hard, vision swimming. Evelyn glanced down at him.
"Hey, Vale. You alright?" she asked.
He managed a shaky nod.
Then he looked at Caesar.
The man was unconscious, truly unconscious this time. His eyes half-closed, body limp and his breath shallow.
Vale's stomach dropped.
He had been fighting someone unconscious… or worse, someone drifting in and out of consciousness while some instinctual protocol continued the battle without him.
Before Vale could make sense of it,
Then Caesar moved again.
His leg snapped up in a vicious arc aimed at Evelyn's head. She caught the kick with one hand, barely looking annoyed.
"For the love of," Evelyn muttered.
Then she raised her other hand and sighed.
"Snap out of it, dumbass."
Her palm slammed into Caesar's chest with enough force to echo across the entire beach.
BOOM.
Caesar's body shot backward like a fired cannonball, crashing through the sand before skidding across the water's surface. He would have sunk,
but Levianthe was already there. The massive serpent lifted him with practiced care and brought him back to shore.
The group rushed toward him. Vale followed, legs shaky and his heart pounding. Caesar coughed up blood and seawater, groaning as he blinked blearily at the faces hovering over him.
"Did combat protocol activate…?" he rasped.
A mix of disappointment, irritation, and anger swept across the group.
Tharion pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. It did. Try being more careful with it next time. You almost killed the kid."
Caesar winced. "Sorry…"
Tharion sighed, then turned to Vale, still bruised, bleeding, shaken, and wide-eyed.
"Well, good news, kid," Tharion said, giving him a small weary smile. "You passed. Welcome to the family."
Vale blinked.
"…Family?" he repeated softly. "What do you mean?"