The Battle Of Spirits

The masked man reached down, plucking the Core from its hiding place with a careful grip. For a moment, he simply stared at it, as if weighing its worth. Then, with his free hand, he pulled out a small, rolled-up paper.

Zen watched as the man unrolled it, revealing strange, twisting symbols scrawled across its surface. The letters seemed to move like living things, warping and shifting under the dim moonlight.

What kind of language is that? Zen thought, but before he could ask, the parchment burned away.

No flames. No smoke. It simply vanished, its embers burnt inward as they sank into the Core.

For a brief second, the Core pulsed—a deep, violet glow radiating from its surface. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the glow died down, leaving the Core dull and inert.

Zen didn't know what had just happened, but something inside him did not like it.

A sharp ache shot through his body. His muscles stiffened, and his breath turned short. It was as if some invisible force had wrapped around him, pressing against his bones.

This feeling..... It's the same as before… when I met Grim.

Zen swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead.

The masked man sighed, rolling his shoulders like he had just completed a tedious chore. "Well, that takes care of the Core," he said.

Then, with a fluid motion, he reached into his robe—

And pulled out a dagger.

A thin, curved blade, its edge gleaming under the pale moonlight.

Zen froze. His legs wouldn't move. His arms wouldn't lift. It was as if his body had turned to stone.

"Now, now," the man murmured, taking a slow step forward. "It's time."

Muki let out a sharp meow and leapt down from Zen's hands, hiding behind his leg. She crouched low, ears flattened, her tiny body trembling.

Zen wanted to reassure her, wanted to run, fight, do something—

But he couldn't.

The masked man's approach was casual, effortless—like he had done this a thousand times before.

His voice was smooth, almost amused.

"Don't look so scared, boy. You should've known this was coming."

A massive brown hand darted out of nowhere.

It was huge—easily five times the size of a grown man—and its surface rough and translucent, like the twisted roots of an ancient tree. It slammed into the masked man's chest with a force that sent him flying backward, his body crashing into the dirt.

Zen barely had time to process what had happened before he turned his head towards the source.

A man stepped forward, broad-shouldered and unfazed.

Captain.

Three more massive hands sprouted from his back, curling like the branches of an ancient tree. They pulsed with raw strength, each movement heavy with power.

"What's the hurry, Knight?" Captain's deep voice rumbled through the forest. He rolled his neck from side to side, crack, crack, his movements deliberate, controlled.

The masked man—the Knight—gritted his teeth, dusting off his white robe. Despite the force of the blow, he still stood with an air of elegance, though his posture had stiffened.

"Enough of this torture," Captain continued, his voice a low growl. "Are you really considering killing this poor boy? The same one who was kicked out of his family, abandoned, left alone—all because he didn't know what he was doing?"

Zen felt something tighten in his chest at those words, but he couldn't focus on that now.

The Knight's cosmic hands flickered behind him—long, slender, and shimmering with shades of purples and pinks. He sprinted forward without hesitation, his masked face twisted in irritation.

"How dare you hit a Knight?!" he snarled.

One of his spirit hands lashed out like a whip. Captain blocked it with one arm, his massive, tree-like limb absorbing the impact with a dull thud. The Knight didn't pause—using the momentum, he launched himself into the air, twisting mid-flight as his other hand lashed out toward Captain's face.

Captain countered immediately, two of his spirit hands shooting forward.

The Knight twisted, his body moving with a fluidity unnatural for a human. He swirled mid-air, narrowly dodging Captain's strike, his masked face still unreadable.

Zen and Muki stood frozen, watching the battle unfold in awe.

Neither of them had ever seen power like this.

"Astral Spirit: Nature's Grasp."

His four massive hands split apart, unraveling into a swarm of writhing branches. They spread like a living storm, twisting and reaching toward the Knight with terrifying speed.

The Knight's eyes narrowed behind his mask. His cosmic hands flexed, then shot outward, glowing with swirling hues of purple and pink. With a sharp motion, he sent them slashing through the air, cutting through several of the incoming branches.

But there were too many.

The branches closed in—some lunging from above, others twisting around like snakes, ready to bind him from all sides. The Knight flipped backward, barely dodging a thick vine that snapped just inches from his throat.

THWIP!

A root lashed out from the ground, but he sidestepped it, spinning low, his cosmic hands slicing through it like a blade. The air rippled where his energy struck, the sheer force of it leaving a faint glow behind.

"Tsk." The Knight clicked his tongue.

With a powerful motion, he crossed his arms, his astral hands folding inward. Then— BOOM! —they exploded outward, sending a shockwave that shattered the branches trying to ensnare him.

Captain skidded back slightly, his feet digging into the earth. He grinned.

"Not bad." He rolled his shoulders, his branches regrowing instantly.

The Knight didn't reply. Instead, he vanished.

FWIP!

In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind Captain, one of his cosmic hands piercing forward like a spear.

THUD!

At the last second, Captain's back sprouted a massive wooden shield, intercepting the blow with a deep, resonating crack. The force of the impact still sent Captain staggering forward, dust kicking up from his boots.

"Fast one, aren't you?" Captain muttered, twisting his body and launching a massive tree-like fist toward the Knight. 

Zen, watching from the sidelines with wide eyes, couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "Okay… this is insane."

The battle raged on, neither side backing down. Their Astral Spirits clashed like storms—cosmic energy against ancient nature.

Every strike, every movement, sent shockwaves through the forest, bending trees, and cracking the earth beneath them.

But the Knight knew.

This fight wasn't going anywhere.

If he wanted to win, he needed more.

He took a deep breath and floated upward, his body slowly rising into the air. His legs folded into a meditative position, and his mask glows with an eerie, golden light.

And then—

"Astral Projection: Dreamscape."

The moment the words left his mouth, a pulse of energy burst outward. The air shimmered like a mirage, the world around them warping.

Captain's eyes widened. "RUN."

Zen flinched. What?

The Captain's voice wasn't his own anymore. For a split second, it sounded exactly like his father's.

"Run as far as you can, and do not come back here!"

Zen's heart pounded. Not again.

He knew this feeling. The feeling of being powerless.

The same feeling from that night.

His body reacted before his mind could. He scooped up Muki and sprinted away from the battlefield, his legs carrying him as fast as they could.

Behind him, the air continued to warp. The Knight's Dreamscape was about to take over, twisting reality itself.

Zen gritted his teeth.

Why?

Why was it so hard to just live without trouble?