The desert was breaking.
What had begun as a wide expanse of golden dunes now looked like a war-scarred battlefield. Ridges had been carved into trenches by Adrian’s axe swings, craters gouged deep by Nathan’s lightning-charged dashes, frozen plains stretched from Seraphina’s relentless ice, and rivers of steam marked where Ethan’s fire clashed against Merlin’s storms.
At the center of it all, Merlin still stood.
Golden arcs danced lazily across his body, as if power bled from him without command. His chest rose steady, his eyes sharp, his blade steady. The weight of his presence pressed harder and harder with every heartbeat.
Seven figures still stood against him.
Nathan, breathing ragged, daggers sparking in his fists.
Elara, silver hair damp with sweat, violet blades ready.
Adrian, shoulders heaving, axe dragging a trench behind him.
Seraphina, frost mist curling at her ankles.
Dorian, crouched and coiled, crimson eyes focused.
Ethan, flames licking across his blade, jaw clenched.
Liliana, water spheres orbiting her, eyes wide but unwavering.
They had not yielded. Not yet.
"Again," Nathan rasped, sparks leaping from his teeth as he grinned through blood. "Don’t give him a breath."
Elara’s voice came sharp, calm. "On me. Formation three."
The circle tightened.
From the control room, the instructors leaned forward.
On the great projection, the desert flashed with light and storm.
Sophia’s lips parted as she whispered, "Formation three? Already? That’s the one they’ve never been able to complete in practice."
Reinhardt’s dark eyes glimmered. "...And yet they’re trying it now. That’s desperation. Or... belief."
Vivienne shook her head. "Either way, against him it won’t matter."
Morgana said nothing. Her crimson eyes gleamed faintly as she traced every movement, her expression unreadable.
Adrian surged first, axe blazing with raw force. He slammed it down, cracking dunes, shoving sand high. Ethan followed, fire lashing across the smoke, searing the air hot enough to blind.
Merlin raised his arm. Lightning burst outward, just enough to scatter the smoke. His blade caught Adrian’s axe, steel ringing, sparks bursting.
From the haze, Nathan lunged. His daggers struck fast, reckless, cutting arcs of light.
Merlin twisted, steel deflecting each strike. But Nathan didn’t retreat, he pressed, faster, harder, forcing Merlin’s footing to slide back.
Then ice spears rained from above.
Seraphina’s voice carried cold through the storm. "Now!"
The shards screamed down, jagged and merciless. Dorian darted between them, daggers flashing, guiding each shard with flicks of frost.
Merlin’s wind burst outward, shattering half. But the other half twisted, following, directed by Dorian’s control.
Merlin hissed, golden eyes narrowing. He swung his blade, the shards split, raining dust.
Elara was already inside his guard.
Her violet blades struck. Once. Twice. Thrice.
Merlin’s ribs. His arm. His thigh.
The world slowed around him. His storm flared. And still, she pressed.
"...You still bleed," she whispered again, breathless but steady.
Merlin gritted his teeth.
Then the ground surged.
Water erupted, wrapping his legs, binding tight. Liliana’s voice cried from behind the formation. "Hold him!"
For the first time, Merlin’s stance buckled.
Adrian roared, axe swinging down again. Nathan’s daggers struck for his throat. Seraphina’s ice curved for his spine.
The circle tightened.
The control room shook as the projection flared, so much raw power surging that static crawled across the glass.
Sophia’s hands flew to her mouth. "They’ve got him. That’s a kill formation!"
Reinhardt’s voice cut, low. "No. Watch."
Merlin’s chest heaved once. Golden light burned from his eyes.
Then lightning screamed outward.
The water bindings shattered instantly, exploding into steam. Adrian’s axe halted mid-swing, shoved back as if struck by a hammer. Nathan’s daggers sparked against his blade—then a shockwave burst, hurling him back across the sand.
Ice shattered to mist.
Merlin’s storm spread wide, tearing the circle apart.
Seraphina hit the ground first. The storm shredded her ice barrier, ripping frost from her hands. She coughed blood, knees buckling, her body too drained to summon another spear. The desert cracked as she collapsed, unconscious.
"Seraphina!" Dorian snarled, catching her body as it fell. His crimson eyes burned fury as frost gathered on his blades again.
But Merlin’s gaze swept once toward him. Lightning cracked.
The ground beneath Dorian erupted.
When the smoke cleared, both he and Seraphina lay limp on the sand.
Ethan charged anyway. His sword blazed molten, fire spiraling hotter than ever, his roar ripping raw from his throat.
He swung with everything, every ounce of will, every drop of rage.
Merlin caught the blade barehanded.
Flames seared his skin, smoke rising from his palm. His expression didn’t shift. He clenched, steel cracked. Then his other hand slammed into Ethan’s chest.
The boy flew across the dunes, fire extinguished mid-air, his body skidding silent.
Liliana froze. Her water spheres hovered, trembling around her. Her eyes widened, breath shallow.
She had seen her bindings torn apart as if they were nothing. She had seen Seraphina crushed, Dorian silenced, Ethan shattered.
And still Merlin stood, steady, golden arcs curling lazily across his frame.
Her voice cracked. "We... we can’t—"
Elara’s voice cut her, sharp as her blades. "Focus!"
Liliana flinched, but nodded, forcing her water forward again.
Adrian bellowed, charging with axe raised. "I won’t fall till I drop, Everhart!"
His swing carved a canyon into the sand, wind screaming from its force.
Merlin twisted, blade clashing. Sparks erupted. Lightning burst.
The axe cracked down the center.
Adrian froze, staring at the ruined weapon in his hands. Then Merlin’s boot slammed into his chest, hurling him backward. The giant hit the ground, dust pluming, unmoving.
Nathan. Elara. Liliana.
The control room had fallen silent.
Vivienne’s voice shook as she whispered, "...He’s not even straining."
Sophia’s eyes were wide, hands clenched white. "They threw everything. That was their best. And he..."
Reinhardt exhaled, long, slow. "...Six stars. No doubt now."
Only Morgana smiled faintly.
"Not six," she murmured, eyes glinting. "Closer to seven."
On the dunes, Nathan staggered back to his feet, sparks crawling across his battered body. Blood trailed down his jaw, but his grin was sharp.
"Heh... still standing. You’re not rid of me yet, Merlin."
Merlin’s golden eyes softened, just barely. "...Stubborn."
Nathan spat blood, spinning his daggers. "Yeah. I learned it from you."
Lightning clashed as they met again, blades sparking.
Elara darted in, blades sharp, her cuts faster, harder, carving shallow wounds wherever she could.
Liliana struggled behind them, forcing water to bind, trying to keep pace, her lips pale, her eyes trembling.
Together, they pressed.
But the cracks were showing.
Merlin’s chest rose deeper. His eyes narrowed.
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Golden arcs burst outward, forming a dome.
Liliana’s bindings evaporated instantly. She cried out, collapsing, too drained to rise again.
Nathan’s body slammed into the sand, daggers flung from his grasp. He coughed blood, body twitching, but still conscious.
Her violet eyes glowed. Her blades sang.
Not when blood painted her arms.
Not when her legs trembled.
Not when sweat blinded her vision.
She pressed harder. Faster. Each cut aimed for his throat, his ribs, his heart.
Merlin’s blade caught hers every time. Sparks flashed, ringing across the desert.
For a heartbeat, their eyes locked.
Her voice came, low, steady. "If it takes my life—I’ll cut you down."
Merlin’s chest ached.
He whispered back. "...Try."
And their blades clashed again.
All around them, the bodies of their classmates lay unconscious. Seraphina’s frost had melted to puddles. Dorian’s blades lay cracked and buried in sand. Adrian’s broken axe jutted like a gravestone. Ethan’s fire had long since guttered out. Liliana’s water had bled back into the dunes.
Only the three of them remained.
Merlin Everhart stood across from them, his blade steady, his breathing calm, arcs of lightning dancing over his shoulders as if mocking exhaustion itself.
He looked at them, at Nathan, at Elara, and for the first time since the battle began, he spoke more than a whisper.
Nathan spat blood into the sand, flashing a crooked grin. "Barely."
Elara didn’t answer. She shifted her stance, blades angled low, her violet eyes never leaving him.
Merlin’s jaw tightened. "...You should stay down. Both of you."
Nathan barked a laugh, hoarse. "And let you walk out of here without a fight? Tch. Not happening."
Elara’s voice came low, steady, cutting through Nathan’s bravado. "We fight until the end. That’s what we said."
Nathan’s grin faltered into something sharper. "...Yeah. That’s what we said."
Together, they moved.
From the control room, the instructors leaned forward.
On the great projection, three figures clashed, lightning, steel, and raw defiance.
Vivienne’s breath caught. "...Nathan should be unconscious already. His body shouldn’t even be able to—"
Reinhardt’s voice cut her, grim. "It’s will alone. He won’t stop until he drops."
Sophia’s hands trembled against the glass. "And Elara..."
Morgana’s crimson eyes narrowed faintly. "...Her blade is sharper than ever. She’s cutting past her own limits."
Lightning flared across his daggers as he lunged, faster than he had any right to move in his condition. His blades slashed for Merlin’s ribs, reckless, desperate.
Merlin’s sword flicked, one parry, two, steel ringing against steel. Sparks burst, scorching the sand.
Elara slipped into the gap Nathan created, blades like violet arcs, stabbing for Merlin’s throat, his chest, his leg.
Merlin twisted, deflecting, but she was closer this time. One blade scraped his shoulder, carving a shallow line. Blood welled, staining the silver edge.
Her eyes locked with his.
Merlin’s jaw tightened.
Nathan roared, daggers crossing for Merlin’s neck.
The clash burst bright. Lightning roared against lightning. Sand exploded beneath their feet.
Merlin shoved them both back with a surge of force, his blade sweeping in a wide arc.
Nathan stumbled, coughing blood. Elara slid back three steps, but her blades never dipped.
"...Again," she whispered.