Dante took a step back, eyes widening. “Is that… a corrupted beast?"

  “No shit!” barked Riven behind Auron. Bare-chested, bloodied, and barely standing. Dirt smeared his face, and blood gushed from the gashes across his body. The toll was evident now; his movements sluggish, eyes dulled by exhaustion. And his team behind him didn't look like they were in any condition to put up a fight nor run for that matter, but the time for that had long passed. The corrupted beast was closing in. Its aura growing heavier with each step.

  Dante scanned the field. Lyra’s frost wolf was already in a battle stance, hackles raised. But Max and Asha froze, terror rooting them in place. He couldn’t blame them though. What did surprise him, though, was the fact that Max was still holding onto that ridiculous staff he’d brought with him all the way from the academy. No one had asked him about it, and Max hadn’t offered an explanation. Whatever. Then he spotted Auron. Of course the bastard was grinning, his violet eyes gleaming with anticipation, like this was exactly what he’d been waiting for. Dante nearly facepalmed. “He’s smiling? Now? Of course he is.”

  With a thought, Dante linked to his beast space. A brown rune flared on his arm, forming a swirling gateway, from it thundered his beast. A steel-back boar, no, not anymore. Since he had chosen lineage creation as his path forward, he couldn't continue calling it a steel- back boar. It was a lightning-back boar now. The name sounded cooler. More importantly, it lived up to it: electricity crackled from its tusks, arcs of lightning dancing down its spine like nature’s fury caged in flesh. The others followed his lead, summoning their beasts. They were third years after all, adaptation at this point came as a core skill, ingrained into their very beings.

  Asha’s three-tailed fox materialized in a blur of white fur, nervously circling her, its tails twitching. The corrupted beast’s aura unsettled it.

  Max, regaining clarity shortly after, summoned his oversized Draken. A six-legged brute that looked like an oversized lizard on steroids. Thick-scaled, bulky, and pissed off.

  Auron still stood alone, his eyes locked onto the corrupted beast, which had slowed to a crawl. That alone was strange. Why hadn’t it attacked yet? Was it playing with them? It didn’t seem mindless. Quite the opposite. It reminded him of the Armored Quadruped he’d fought. Not in strength, but in… awareness. The glint in its pale, bone-like eyes wasn’t just hunger, It was intelligence.

  Everyone else had their beasts out. Riven’s team, understandably, hadn’t. likely recovering in their beast spaces. “Anything we should know?” Lyra asked sharply, eyes on Arthur and the others grouped behind her.

  “Yeah,” Fel muttered. “It’s strong. Strong as hell. And… it can copy our tames.”

  “Oh, great,” Dante groaned. “Fantastic. Just what we needed, a cheat incarnated with claws, what could possibly go wrong?”

  Not that they were clueless or something, hell, they’d read about them before. Skimmed, clinical paragraphs tucked in bestiaries and training manuals. “Corrupted beasts are anomalies, highly unstable. Avoid confrontation if possible and report to an instructor if spotted.”

  Simple as fuck. But now? Now the thing stood in front of them. Real, flesh, breathing, and still looking at them for some reason, It looked at them like a thing that had forgotten what life was supposed to feel like. Like it wanted to remember by breaking them apart. They had scrolled past dragons with more detachment. Back then, corrupted beasts had sounded like cautionary tales. Mythical, even, but nothing about this was mythical. It was happening now!

  And where the hell was Instructor Lena? Was she really serious about only stepping in if they were about to die? If so...they were halfway there. The beast crossed the fifty-meter threshold and halted. Its eyes narrowed, calculating. Auron felt it in his bones: something bad was coming. But excitement flared in him rather than fear. He was itching to test his new skill.

  Then—

  "Attack!” Lyra’s voice rang out, cutting the tension like a blade. “We take the initiative!” Her frost wolf howled and dashed forward, its movement swift and deliberate. The corrupted beast still didn’t react. Auron could’ve sworn he saw flickers of interest flash across its eyes. Her plan made sense. Overwhelm it before it charged. It was their best shot. Dante’s lightning-back boar rampaged after the wolf, electricity surging around its tusks as it barreled forward. At ten meters, the frost wolf lunged for the beast’s head. The corrupted creature raised a sinewy paw, its claws like curved blades, aiming to swat it down. But it was a feint. The wolf dropped low and bit into the beast’s chest.

  Frost bloomed across the corrupted flesh. Frostbite. A silver-rank core skill. Which the corrupted beast didn't like at all. The beast roared, enraged. It turned its maw on the frost wolf, rows of razored teeth bared, only for Dante’s boar to slam into its side. Lightning exploded across its torso, making it flinch.

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  Asha’s fox joined in, its tails slicing through the air in spinning arcs aimed at the creature’s legs. Max’s Draken charged, massive jaws snapping, claws raking. Its bites barely pierced the corrupted hide, but it was relentless.

  For a moment, it looked like the tide had turned. Until the beast screamed. The sound warped the air. A sonic shockwave that sent every beast flying backward.

  Crimson runes burst to life across its body. The pressure it emitted multiplied. Before anyone could regroup, its paw came crashing down on the Draken, tearing its flesh. The beast howled as its forearm was shredded to bits and thrown like a ragdoll across the field. Still breathing, but rugged.

  Lyra’s frost wolf lunged again, opening its jaws to unleash its second bloodline skill: Frost Breath. Shards of ice formed midair, then hurtled toward the corrupted beast. The impact was followed by something of a shattering sound. The crimson runes had formed a barrier. It had learned. The second attack didn’t work.

  Dante’s boar rushed forward once more, only to strike empty air. The beast's figure blurred. Before he could make out his next attack.

  Pain exploded through him, originating from the link shared with his beast. He could feel it, his beast had suffered massive damage. Grinding his teeth he looked forward, his boar had a hole through its stomach. Blood poured out as the corrupted beast yanked its claw free. Life force drained rapidly.

  “Recall your beast!” Lyra’s voice cut through the panic. Sharp and steady.

  She’d finally calculated it, this thing wasn’t just Silver-rank. It was peak Silver. And even if her frost wolf matched it in rank, she doubted they could win.They needed a diversion, fast, this wasn't working, at least not anymore.

  Her train of thought was disrupted by the voice that cut through the silence. “Lyra! I have a plan! Create an opening for me!” She turned, stunned, catching the outline of Auron's figure streaking forward.

  "Huh? What in the actual fuck was he doing?" With no contracted beast in place, his actions seemed fucking idiotic, but her knowledge of Auron begged to differ. He was a lot of things but dumb wasn't one of them. Did he really have a plan? But that wasn’t the issue now. She could see his figure approaching the corrupted beast. She had to create an opening, and fast.

  Utilizing his agility to the max, Auron rushed forward—not because of some sudden, nonsensical urge to play the hero, but because he had found an opening. He could see the corrupted beast spasming as glyphs ran across its frame, as if something was about to split from it. If his instincts were right, he guessed the beast was utilizing its supposed coping by copying trait. As for the beast it would copy that didn't matter, what mattered right now was that meant transition, it meant vulnerability, for with it came... opportunity, creating the perfect opening to use his new skill.

  If he was wrong... well, he had Lyra to cover his back. Recalling the skill’s description, it surfaced back with vivid clarity. Skill: Mark of Destruction. Brand the target with a destructive seal that burns away 1% of their current vitality per second for 5 seconds. Can stack up to 3 times. Each stack refreshes the duration.

  He just had to touch it to brand this Mark of Destruction, right? At least, that’s what it said. If that logic held true, and he touched it thrice in rapid succession, it would stack—meaning he’d deal 3% of its vitality damage per second for five seconds.

  Didn’t that mean he’d chunk out 15% of its health over the full duration? Now that he was thinking about it, he couldn’t help but let out a maniacal grin just at the thought of it.With this skill, he could already see himself dominating the battlefield. Now all he just had to do was touch it.

  His smirk was wiped clean off his face when he heard Fel and his group’s remarks. “Get back here, you, freak. Last thing we need is your corpse adding to the body count.”

  “No, you dumbass, can’t you see he’s saving us?” Mila’s voice cut in. “When the beast beats the crap out of him, then Instructor Lena will be forced to step in and save us!”

  “Fucking stupid idea... but it might really work,” Zeke voiced.

  “Huh? Wait, what?” Auron almost tripped when he heard that, but he couldn’t lose focus, not now. The target was right in front of him.

  He had thought of keeping his skill as a trump card but decided against it. Given how much his team had done, it would be selfish to stand by without contributing, especially when he had a chance. After all, he could still hear Dante vouching for him in the back.

  “Auron isn’t that stupid,” he said, wiping blood from his lips.

  The pain was already fading as he continued, “The way I know him, he definitely has a pla—”

  The words froze in his throat. Because what he saw next wasn't strategy, it was madness given form. Auron slapped the beast. Once. Twice. Thrice. Slapped It!

  “What the fuck is he doing? Slapping it to death?” Dante blinked.Then the beast staggered as pain rippled across its face....Dante stared as something impossible unfolded before him, the beast continued stumbling back, its aura dimming significantly. like it had just taken a heavy blow, a pained roar followed.

  “T...his... how?” His understanding was subverted. Had they been going about it all wrong? He doubted mere slaps could cause that much damage, but it literally just fucking did.

  “No… No way. What the fuck did he just do?”

  Auron took a step back cursing.

  "Fucking hell!" He knew it was too good to be fucking true. Dominate the battlefield with this skill?

  Bullshit! He could feel it now: the exhaustion setting in. Branding the target once had been a drain on his endurance, but doing it thrice? That had been a mistake. It appeared his skill was fueled directly by his stamina, and looking at his panel, it was hanging dangerously low. But it hadn’t been for nothing.

  He had seen it, the faint black runes etching themselves onto the corrupted beast, spreading like a virus, eating away at its life force, the skill had worked way better than he expected. Now, he just had to get back to the rest of the group. Easier said than done.

  The corrupted beast had already regained its clarity and was now swiping down at him, a mixture of fear and rage behind the blow.

  “Crap!”

  Right before the blow connected with his face, Lyra’s frost wolf blocked it, cushioning the impact. Still, it sent both of them flying, but the damage was noticeably reduced. “Did you just slap the crap out of the corrupted beast?” Dante’s voice cut through Auron’s hazy bearings. “Guys back at the academy won’t believe this…”

  Before he could continue, a blur of motion cut him off. The corrupted beast charged again and this time, it wasn’t alone. The glyphs had finally taken shape, forming a twisted, half-baked version of Dante’s lightning-back boar, and the aura it radiated was somehow much stronger than the original fucking version

  “Oh fucking hell—it’s coming straight at us!” Riven cursed.

  And as much as he didn’t want to, he couldn’t help but shout: “Hurry up, Auron! Get up and slap it some more!” It had worked the first time, right?

  But this time, his voice carried something else. A semblance of respect. Because now, the young man lying before him wasn’t just a Raventor bastard. He was their best shot at surviving this.