Chapter 20: When Blood Speaks

The ground shuddered beneath Ash's feet as she crouched low, her fingers brushing the frostbitten soil. In one fluid motion, she dragged her hand upward. The earth screamed.

A deep fissure tore across the clearing, a jagged scar splitting the battlefield in two. Snow and leaves rotted to nothing in its wake, dissolving into foul black slush. The stench of decay crawled through the air as if death itself had exhaled.

The two clashing figures halted, their collision splintered by the sudden divide. For a heartbeat, silence ruled—just the brittle whisper of the wind brushing through the skeletal trees.

Vanta wasted no time. His boots crunched against the frozen ground as he sprinted toward the male figure on the far side. His breath came out in ragged clouds, crystallizing instantly in the glacial air. His teeth clenched so hard they threatened to crack.

The cold bit into his skin like a swarm of knives, but he didn't slow. He couldn't.

"I hope he's reasonable," Vanta thought, the bitter wind gnawing at his doubts.

As he closed the distance, his eyes widened. His heart skipped a beat.

"Raymond?" The name tore from his throat before he could stop it.

The boy turned, his figure outlined against the pale gloom, and for the first time since this hellish exam began, Vanta saw something familiar. Raymond's expression flickered between surprise and joy, like a candle fighting the wind.

"Vanta? What are you doing here?" His voice carried warmth, but behind it lurked exhaustion—the kind that stains a man's bones.

Vanta slowed to a halt, panting. "I was nearby. But I should be the one asking questions."

Raymond chuckled dryly, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand. "Well… I was on my own before this crazy girl came for me. Only the Colors know what she's after." His tone hardened briefly, then softened again. "It's good to see you, my friend."

"Same," Vanta muttered. The word tasted strange on his tongue. His gaze flicked skyward to the swirling blizzard above. "Let's save the pleasantries. Can you uhm undo the weather?"

Raymond glanced up, following his eyes to the storm he'd conjured. His silence was answer enough.

Ash, meanwhile, advanced toward the bleeding girl across the divide. The stranger stood amid the falling snow like a scarlet flame against a canvas of white—hair the color of molten rubies, eyes glowing with a hunger that didn't belong in this world. Her gown clung to her frame, elegant yet battered, still reeking of nobility even as blood seeped into the silk.

Ash stopped a few paces away, her expression unreadable. "And who might this pretty lady be?" The girl's voice was music—sweet, lilting—but it rang wrong, like a lullaby sung in a graveyard.

"I don't know what got you into this fight or why," Ash replied evenly, sword angled downward in a gesture of peace. "But continuing it will draw every abomination in this forest. You'll drown us all in blood."

The girl didn't listen. Her crimson gaze slid over Ash like a lover's caress, sending cold shivers racing down Ash's spine.

"You're beautiful," the stranger said softly, her lips curling upward. "Really beautiful. I'd like to know you better." She tilted her head, a lock of bloodstained hair falling across her face. "They say the soul hides behind masks. I want to see what yours looks like… when the mask is gone."

Her hand slid to the hilt of her blade with languid grace. Steel hissed like a serpent's tongue as she drew it free. Then her smile sharpened into something feral.

"What binds the soul, the mind, and the body?" Her voice broke into a whisper, sweet as sin. "Blood." Her grin widened, and madness danced behind her eyes. "Show me what kind of person you are. Show me your blood. Bleed for me."

She vanished.

Ash barely caught the flicker in her peripheral before steel sang through the air. A horizontal arc, merciless and precise, sliced toward her right shoulder.

Ash twisted, boots skidding across ice, feeling the wind of death graze her skin. Before her feet even kissed the ground, another strike screamed toward her throat.

Steel clashed. Sparks burst like fireflies as Ash caught the blow mid-fall, her blade locking against the girl's. The impact rattled her bones and flung her across the clearing like a broken doll. She crashed into the snow, pain flaring through her ribs.

"Not bad," the girl purred, stalking forward with blood-slick grace.

Ash rose, spitting crimson onto the snow. Her voice was steel wrapped in frost. "Non-lethal strikes? You could've gutted me. Sadistic much?"

The stranger giggled—a soft, chilling sound that curled like smoke through the blizzard. "And you're the type who pretends not to care. I like that." She twirled her blade, her scarlet hair whipping in the wind. "See? Fists have their own language. We're getting to know each other already."

She lunged again.

Ash braced. Her sword darted forward like a black fang, aiming straight for the girl's ribs. It struck true—steel sank into flesh with a sickening crunch.

But the girl didn't dodge. She didn't even flinch. Blood spilled down her side like ink bleeding through silk, and her smile only grew wider.

Then her head slammed into Ash's face like a falling hammer.

White pain exploded behind Ash's eyes. Warmth gushed from her nose, painting her teeth red. Snarling, she seized the girl's gown, slammed her into the ground hard enough to spiderweb the earth, and drove her knee into her gut.

The girl laughed. Laughed. Even as Ash's boot sent her skidding across the frost.

"Good," she crooned, dragging herself upright on trembling legs. Her grin split wider, wild and hungry. "Very good. More. Show me more."

Ash's patience snapped. Her voice was a hiss through clenched teeth.

"Playtime's over." Her pigment surged, shadows writhing like serpents around her limbs. "SHADOW DARKNESS PAINTING: EROSIVE VEST."

Black miasma billowed outward, swallowing her whole. The air warped with its corrosive hunger, and even the snow dared not touch her.

Across the divide, Vanta and Raymond stood frozen, their breath steaming in the frigid air as they watched the storm of violence unfold.

"Shouldn't we stop them?" Vanta muttered.

Raymond shrugged, though unease rippled through his posture. "We'll step in soon. Do you know her?"

"Only the black-haired one, she's from my clan." Vanta said, eyes locked on Ash's silhouette.

Raymond's brow arched. "From your clan? Seriously? What are the odds?"

Vanta didn't answer. His thoughts were miles away, spiraling back into questions he wasn't ready to face.

The fight raged on. Ash moved like death draped in shadows, every step corroding the ground into black scars. The stranger bled rivers but danced through the carnage, smiling like pain was ecstasy. Their blades sang dirges as steel kissed steel, their shadows writhing together in a grotesque waltz.

Then—

A voice split the chaos. Deep. Commanding. Absolute.

"Combat between candidates is not strictly forbidden. But further escalation will result in immediate failure."

The words rolled across the clearing like a verdict.

The red-haired girl froze. Slowly, her blade lowered. Disappointment shimmered in her crimson eyes, but her smile never faltered.

"Aww. That's too sad." Her voice was silk drenched in venom. "I guess our little girl's time will have to wait."

She vanished—one blink, and she was gone, swallowed by the trees with speed that mocked her wounds.

Only her laughter lingered, curling through the snow like smoke.

Two truths settled in Vanta's gut like stones.

One: She was the same girl he'd seen outside the hall, staring at the sun with eyes too bright to belong to sanity.

Two: She hadn't used her ability. Not once.

His blood ran cold.

What in the Colors' name did she want?

Questions piled like storm clouds, but answers would have to wait. Because Vanta knew one thing: the exam wasn't over. Not yet. The final step still waited—and its teeth were sharp.