The training grounds were silent in a way Fenrik didn't like.
Not peaceful.
Watching.
The stone arena carved by ancient hands still carried scars from yesterday's battles—burn marks, shattered runes, clawed trenches in the floor. Fenrik stood at the center, Wolf Slayer Axe resting against his shoulder, its surface faintly pulsing with a low, controlled glow. Ever since the reunion with Kaizen Ryu, the weapon had felt… alert. As if something far away was tugging at its instincts.
Taro adjusted his grip on the Tiger Reaper Scythe, eyes narrowed.
"Too quiet," he muttered. "Even the wind's holding its breath."
Around them, the allies formed a loose circle.
Aoi Mizuno tightened the straps on her armguards, water sigils shimmering faintly along her sleeves. Koharu knelt near the ground, fingers brushing the earth as she whispered a stabilization chant, reinforcing the terrain beneath them. Kael checked the edges of his twin blades, sparks of lightning snapping between the metal. Lyra stood with her staff planted firmly, eyes closed, sensing mana distortions beyond the horizon.
Kaizen Ryu—Yuto to Fenrik once, though that name stayed buried—stood apart from the group, gaze lifted toward the sky. He hadn't drawn his weapon. He didn't need to.
"The void is near," Kaizen said quietly. "Not here yet. But close enough to stain the air."
The Sage's warning from earlier echoed in Fenrik's mind.
Malzareon does not rush. He erodes.
The first sign came without sound.
Shadows stretched where no light should allow them to. They slid across stone like liquid ink, gathering, twisting, forming shapes that were wrong—humanoid outlines with serpentine spines, eyes glowing with a hollow violet sheen.
"Void soldiers," Taro said. "Just like the Sage described."
"Not illusions," Lyra added sharply. "They're real. Bound by the same magic style as Malzareon."
The first soldier moved.
It didn't run. It folded space beneath its feet, appearing instantly before Kael. Kael barely raised his blades before the impact sent him skidding backward, boots tearing grooves in the stone.
Fenrik didn't think. He moved.
The Wolf Slayer Axe howled as he swung, the fur-lined edge tearing through one of the shadows. The creature split apart—not bleeding, but unraveling into strands of void that evaporated into nothing.
"Cut them down before they adapt!" Fenrik shouted.
They adapted anyway.
Aoi unleashed a spiraling wave of water blades, slicing through three soldiers at once—only for the shadows to reform behind her, learning the rhythm of her attack. Koharu slammed her palm into the ground, raising jagged stone pillars that impaled two more, but the void magic corroded the rock from within.
"They're copying," Koharu warned. "Not techniques—principles."
Malzareon's style.
Void magic didn't overpower.
It analyzed.
Then erased.
Taro leapt high, scythe spinning as tiger-shaped aura flared behind him. He cleaved downward, ripping through space itself, forcing the shadows to solidify just long enough to be destroyed.
"Fenrik!" he called. "They're reacting slower to raw will. Less calculation time."
"Then we don't give them time," Fenrik replied.
The axe responded.
Its glow intensified, the spectral fur along its blade bristling as Fenrik charged headfirst into the densest cluster of enemies. Every strike was brutal, instinctive, driven by survival rather than form. The void soldiers hesitated—just a fraction of a second—but it was enough.
Kaizen finally moved.
He stepped forward, eyes burning with a calm that felt heavier than rage. Space warped around him as he raised his hand—not to attack, but to anchor reality. The battlefield steadied, void distortions snapping back into place.
"Universe alignment: partial," he said.
The soldiers screamed.
Not in pain—but in resistance—as Kaizen crushed their spatial foothold. Without Malzareon's perfect control, the void constructs destabilized, collapsing under their own corrupted existence.
Fenrik stared for half a second.
Kaizen didn't look back.
"Don't rely on that," Kaizen said. "I can't use it fully. Not yet."
Lyra struck her staff into the ground, releasing a surge of light that purged the remaining shadows. Silence rushed back in, heavy and uneasy.
They stood there, breathing hard.
"That wasn't Malzareon," Aoi said finally. "That was a test."
"Yes," Kaizen agreed. "And we passed… barely."
Fenrik looked at his axe. The glow dimmed, settling back into a controlled pulse—but he could feel it now. The weapon wasn't just reacting to him.
It was preparing.
Somewhere far beyond their sight, in a realm where light bent and reality thinned, Malzareon watched through fractured reflections. A massive serpentine form coiled around broken stars, eyes like endless voids narrowing with interest.
"So," the Void Serpent murmured, voice echoing across dimensions, "the wolf still howls… and the universe stirs."
The reflection shattered.
Back on the training grounds, the Sage's voice echoed from behind them.
"This was your warning," he said. "Malzareon has acknowledged you."
Fenrik tightened his grip on the Wolf Slayer Axe.
"Then we train harder," he said. "Because next time—he won't send shadows."