NOVEL WEB Chapter 21: Ethan Drakethorne...
One by one, more students stepped forward, showcasing a variety of techniques.
A spear-user demonstrated a spiraling thrust technique, impaling his opponent—a savage mountain wolf—with sheer force.
A student wielding a massive warhammer used crushing force to shatter the legs of a wild boar before finishing it with a devastating downward slam.
Another student used dual short swords, moving with blinding speed to weave between a charging beast's attacks before landing precise slashes that incapacitated it.
Each fight displayed different styles and disciplines, proving that technique mattered just as much as raw strength.
Then, Instructor Seraphine called the next name.
"Selene Vael."
A quiet buzz of anticipation filled the air. Selene was known for her exceptional skill.
She stepped forward, her silver hair catching the light as her violet eyes gleamed with confidence. Every movement she made was graceful yet controlled, exuding the air of someone who had mastered their craft.
She wasn't just another student--she was the
school's top talent, admired for both her beauty and her combat skill.
Seraphine tilted her head slightly, looking at her expectantly. "Your technique?"
Selene remained silent for a second, unsheathed her dual daggers, their edges gleaming like liquid silver and smiled as she replied to the instructor. "The Phantom Dagger
Dance."
****
Gasps rippled through the students. Phantom Dagger Dance was a technique that prioritized speed, agility, and fluid movement, allowing the user to move like a shadow while delivering precise, lethal strikes.
Seraphine turned to the attendant. "Release
the next unawakened beast."
The arena doors rumbled open once more.
A Crimson Shadow Lynx leaped into the battlefield.
The lynx was built for speed, its razor-sharp claws and lightning-fast reflexes making it one of the most dangerous unawakened beasts.
Its red-tinted fur shimmered under the arena lights, its pupils narrowing as it locked onto Selene.
The lynx wasted no time-it was already in
motion, a blur of red and black as it charged
toward Selene.
Selene didn't move.
But at the very last moment, she pivoted gracefully, her movements so smooth it almost looked effortless.
The lynx's claws barely grazed the air where she had been standing just a second before.
With a flick of her wrists, Selene's dual daggers gleamed under the arena lights.
She moved into the first form, Phantom Step, disappearing from the lynx's sight in a swift sidestep.
The beast whirled around, snarling in frustration.
Selene smirked. "Too slow."
She lunged, spinning mid-air, her daggers cutting through the lynx's front legs.
The beast yelped but recovered instantly, launching another attack, even with it's injured legs.
Normally In the wild, both in this world and in earth from which he got transmigration, wild cats follow an instinctive rule when hunting: if they sustain even a minor injury, they will usually retreat rather than continue the chase.
This is because, for a predator, survival depends not just on catching food in the moment but on maintaining their physical condition for future hunts. If they were to push through their injuries and keep fighting their prey, the risk of sustaining further wounds increases.
These injuries might take too long to heal, reducing their ability to hunt effectively. And in the unforgiving wilderness, an injured predator that cannot hunt will eventually starve, leading to its demise. Thus, for wild cats, retreating at the first sign of injury is a survival strategy that ensures they live to hunt another day.
But in this case this beast clearly has no choice, to it, defeating, killing Selene was it's only way of survival, even though it wants to, there's not where to escape to...
Selene with a slight smile on her face transitioned into the second form, Fading Mirage, where her movements became so unpredictable that the lynx struggled to keep up.
She weaved through its attacks like a dancer in a deadly ballet, dodging every claw swipe and bite.
The lynx pounced again, but this time, Selene activated the third form, Phantom Slash a high-speed maneuver that allowed her to unleash a flurry of dagger strikes in an instant.
Her blades sliced through the beast's hide,
cutting precise lines along its torso.
The lynx stumbled, blood dripping onto the dirt floor. Selene didn't let up. She executed the final form, Moonlit Rend, where she leaped over the lynx, her daggers flashing in the air like silver streaks.
She came down in a swift arc, her blades slashing across the lynx's spine. The beast collapsed, breathing heavily but still alive.
Selene landed lightly on her feet, flipping her daggers before sheathing them in one fluid motion.
She didn't even have to use all her forms
The class stared in awe, their mouths
slightly open.
The way she had moved-it was like a ghost dancing between blades, her every motion elegant yet devastating.
Even Instructor Seraphine took a moment before speaking.
"Well done," she finally said. "Your precision
and agility are exceptional."
Selene gave a small curtsy, her smile playful.
"Thank you, Instructor."
As she stepped out of the arena, she turned to Ethan and winked.
"You're up soon," she whispered. "Try to
impress me."
Ethan smirked, gripping the hilt of his
practice sword. He was ready to show
His turn was next.
And he was ready to show exactly what he was capable of.
The tension in the air thickened as Instructor Seraphine called the final name.
"Ethan Drakethorne."
The murmurs that followed were different from the previous ones. There was a shift in the atmosphere—a quiet recognition of the weight carried by that name.
As Ethan stepped forward, his classmates watched with varying expressions. Some were curious, others anticipatory, and a few held veiled envy.
Unlike the others before him, there was no uncertainty in Ethan's stride. His storm-gray eyes were sharp and unwavering, his posture relaxed but eerily controlled, like a predator that had yet to strike.
---
Ethan reached the center of the arena and unsheathed his training sword, holding it with practiced ease. The silver sheen of the blade reflected the glow of the rune-lit walls, exuding an almost ceremonial feel.
Instructor Seraphine, who had observed countless tests in her time, regarded him carefully. "State your technique."