Each of us is born to be a hero— Born to slay the Twisted. Or... Born to become one.
That thought surged through Johnquis's mind like fire as his blade came down with brutal force—
WOOSH!
The Twisted contorted—its movements inhuman, impossibly fast—faster than anyone expected. Then let out a high-pitched scream that sent chills through every candidate on the field.
The first group engaged, clad in combat suits forged to withstand the Twisted. In their hands, Carcanite weapons—the only metal known to cut through cursed flesh.
Twelve young candidates against a creature twisted by nightmare.
Johnquis.
Jack, Kai.
And Hunter.
Others already trembling under pressure.
As the Twisted evaded Johnquis's strike, it leapt with blinding speed toward another candidate. Its claws reached forward, aiming straight for the boy's chest.
The boy stood frozen in terror—eyes wide, feet rooted to the ground.
CLANG!
Hunter lunged, his sword slamming between them and catching the blow just in time.
"Move, dumbass!!" Hunter roared, sliding in like thunder, his sword intercepting the claws mid-air. The impact shook his bones.
But he wasn't fast enough—its second arm came whipping around.
He's not gonna make it. Hunter saw the death blow coming.
But then—
Steel sang.
SHHHK!
Johnquis blurred past, slicing the Twisted's arm clean from its socket.
Blood—not red, but black—splashed across Hunter's face like ink.
The crowd watching roared.
Candidates gasped in awe.
From the waiting area, all eyes fell on Johnquis.
Gravier, standing silent among them, watched him more closely than any other.
"...Thanks," Hunter muttered, wiping the black blood from his brow.
Johnquis didn't look back.
"Thank me after we kill it."
The others stood paralyzed, watching the duel as spectators rather than warriors.
One of the candidates whispered, wide-eyed,
"He moves... like he's not even human. How can anyone fight like that?"
Another murmured,
"He moves like the wind—swift, unpredictable. I can't even keep track of him."
One whispered,
"He moves like he's fought them before... like he knows how they think…"
Hunter grinned, his voice full of excitement.
"Sheesh, that promised prince really lives up to the hype! I'm fired up!"
Johnquis's blades tore into the creature again and again, blood soaking its twisted form.
In his mind, he thought,
"I have to end its suffering. It was human once…"
Johnquis's eyes widened as the Twisted did something unexpected.
It howled in fury, its high-pitched scream making the wind tremble around them.
Johnquis stumbled—ears ringing—just in time for the Twisted to kick him.
His body flew back, crashing against the earth.
In a blink, the Twisted lunged again—fangs bared—toward Jack.
Jack froze.
His mouth opened in a silent scream.
And then—
Kai moved.
He leapt in front of Jack, using his own frail body as a shield.
The Twisted's fangs sank into Kai's shoulder, sucking his blood with a horrific slurping sound.
His scream split the air.
"AAAHHH!"
Hunter reacted instantly.
"Get off him!" His sword plunged into the creature's heart with a sickening crunch.
"What?" Hunter muttered.
"It's still alive?"
The candidates rushed forward, stabbing at the Twisted with their blades.
They sank deep, but the creature barely flinched.
Its flesh was like stone—or maybe they were just too weak to make an impact.
Jack fell to the ground, trembling, his brother's blood splattering onto his face.
Watching his brother's life draining second by second.
The crowd held their breath.
Johnquis coughed blood, pain searing through his ribs as he forced himself to his feet.
With a strained breath, he sprinted forward, blade raised—
But the Twisted sensed the danger, leaping away in a flash of movement.
Kai crumpled to the ground like a broken doll, his body hitting the earth with a sickening thud.
Johnquis didn't pursue the creature.
Instead, he fell to his knees beside Kai, his hand trembling as he hovered over the fallen form.
"Hold on," he whispered, voice cracking with desperation.
He pressed his hand over Kai's chest—his palm glowing with golden flame.
The prince's healing magic, rare.
Kai's eyes fluttered.
"Y-your Grace…"
"Shh. Rest," Johnquis said, his voice low.
But the battlefield was far from over.
The Twisted—now fully fed—had grown.
Its body pulsed with red veins, its missing arm regenerated and pulsing with more muscle, more power.
It let out a hellish shriek—then charged.
It didn't attack to kill—it attacked to break them.
One by one, the candidates fell.
The Twisted didn't fight.
It played.
A predator savoring the hunt.
Its mouth split into a jagged grin, eyes burning with sadistic glee.
Suddenly, it spoke, its voice a venomous hiss.
"Too slow… too weak… just meat in armor."
The King's expression hardened as his gaze shifted to Arté, surprise flickering across both their faces.
It grabbed a boy by the face, slamming him down.
"Cry louder!"
Another candidate tried to flee. The Twisted lunged.
"Run, run—makes the meat sweeter."
A spear grazed its ribs.
It paused.
Then laughed.
"Good! Hurt me more! Let's see who screams louder—you or me!"
A boy screamed nearby—
"He—help me!"
The Twisted sank its teeth into his shoulder—crack!—bone splintered.
The boy's spear dropped from limp fingers as blood sprayed.
He crumpled, sobbing.
The Twisted turned toward the remaining few, breathing heavier, eyes alight.
"Who's next? Come on... entertain me."
Hunter charged, rage burning behind his eyes.
"Damn you, you monster!"
He spun—slash—dodged—strike—spun again—steel flashing in a desperate dance.
Hunter fought like a starving wolf, biting and clawing for every inch of ground.
He barreled into the fray with primal ferocity—teeth gritted, muscles rippling, instincts sharper than any blade.
His strikes were brutal, unschooled—like a wolf ripping into prey.
He roared and snarled, moving low and fast, almost four-legged at times, using momentum and raw power.
He landed a clean blow—
SHHK!
—slicing through the Twisted's arm.
But the limb sprouted back in an instant—thicker, hungrier.
WHAM!
The Twisted's fist crashed into Hunter's face—sending him flying backward.
He hit the ground hard, rolled, coughing blood.
"Nah..." the Twisted sneered, stepping forward.
"Still not entertaining."
Hunter groaned, dropping to one knee.
Blood ran from his nose and lips.
"He... he's toying with us. Dammit..."
Johnquis stood.
The healing was complete.
Kai was still breathing—barely.
"You'll be okay now. Stay here," he said.
Kai looked up.
"T-thank you… your grace…"
Then—he reached down and picked up Kai's sword.
Now, a blade in each hand.
His lips moved silently, whispering words in a forgotten elven tongue.
FWOOM—
Both swords ignited in golden fire.
The wounded candidates gasped as the same fire danced over their injuries, slowly knitting their wounds.
From the royal balcony, the Queen's eyes widened.
Her hand trembled in the King's.
He didn't speak. He only held her tighter.
The Twisted hissed.
"Are you done nursing the kids, little prince?"
Then—it froze.
It saw the fire in Johnquis's eyes.
"Time to end this."
The Twisted's grin widened—not in fear, but delight.
A worthy fight at last.
It turned, muscles coiling to strike—
But Johnquis had already vanished.
The next second—
He was everywhere.
CRASH—CLANG—SHLK—
Strikes rained like fire and thunder.
Too fast for the eye.
Too precise for chance.
Each blade swept with purpose.
Each slash burned with golden flame.
The Twisted staggered, snarling—
Its limbs torn free—SPLTCH!
Its torso split down the middle—SSHHK!
It couldn't regenerate fast enough.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't breathe.
Until only the head remained—hanging by a strand of flesh.
It screamed—not like a monster—
But like a terrified child.
"Wh-who… who are you?"
Johnquis stood over it, both blades glowing.
Eyes calm. Steady.
"Johnquis—who will vanquish all of you."
SHLK.
The blade fell.
The head rolled across the sand.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Until nothing remained but burning ash, scattered by the wind.
Johnquis stood still.
Blades at his side.
Golden fire flickered down his arms, then faded into silence.
His voice came low—steady. Final.
"Now rest your soul… Twisted."
Silence.
Then—
The eruption.
Cheers thundered across the yard, shaking the stones.
A standing ovation roared from the crowd.
"Fight me next, Johnquis!" Vanhart bellowed, his voice booming with excitement.
"He... he used too much elven magic just to save these foolish humans..." Novakris muttered bitterly under his breath.
"Yeah! My big, big, BIG brother is awesome!" Ellaris squealed, jumping up and down.
The King beamed with pride, his chest swelling as he looked upon his son.
But beside him, the Queen watched with troubled eyes—her heart a knot of pride and fear.
The Dragonborn themselves clapped, forgetting their pride in the moment.
Names were shouted—one name, again and again.
"JOHNQUIS! JOHNQUIS! THE VANQUISHER! THE PROMISED PRINCE!"
For a moment, they were all just witnesses to something incredible.
But not Gravier.
He didn't cheer.
He watched.
His eyes, cold.
His fists, clenched.
The candidates were still in shock as the battle came to a close, but a spark of hope ignited within them, inspired by Johnquis.
His team gathered around him, offering their praise and gratitude.
In that moment, their bond had grown.