The bull-man let out a deep, guttural snort. His nostrils flared as he stomped his massive hoof-like foot against the concrete, cracking it beneath him. The entire alley trembled from the impact.
Jordan took one step forward, armor creaking faintly as he flexed his rhino-enhanced arms. "How strong is he, Elion?"
Elion narrowed his eyes, breathing steadily as he tapped into Pulse. The technique sharpened his senses—his aura spreading just enough to skim across the beast-man's presence. It wasn't perfect, but it gave him a glimpse.
"First Mana Gate," he said slowly. "Mid-tier White Ring... I think."
His tone wavered at the end—more a question than a statement. He glanced at Ronan for confirmation.
Ronan gave a small nod. "That's about right. On paper, he should be easy."
Then his voice hardened. "But he's wielding a Corrupted Ring. Don't underestimate him."
Jordan cracked his knuckles. "Noted." He smirked at the bull-man. "Alright, big guy. You and me. Let's dance."
But before Elion could add his own comment, a sharp caw sliced through the alley. The hairs on the back of his neck rose.
"Something's coming!" Elion shouted.
He didn't hesitate—Pulse surged again, and his body responded before his mind caught up. He ducked low just as something dark and fast swept past his head, slicing the air like a blade.
"Elion!" Jordan spun around, alarmed. His beast arm shifted instinctively into a defensive stance.
"I'm good!" Elion shouted back, rolling to the side. His eyes locked onto the rooftop.
There—talons retracting, black feathers settling, red eyes gleaming. The newcomer perched above them with disturbing poise. A humanoid crow cloaked in sleek black plumage and a tattered coat, like some fallen noble turned predator. His hooked beak curved into a smirk that didn't belong on anything human.
"Interesting," the crow-man mused, tilting his head. "The order from Lady Leo only mentioned one Slayer. But now... There are three?"
He flexed his wings slightly, talons digging into the edge of the rooftop. "That's going to be a problem."
Jordan snorted, brushing dust off his shoulder. "Oh, trust me. We are a problem."
Elion didn't reply. His mind clicked into overdrive. Lady Leo again? That was the second time her name had come up. And the way they spoke of her—with deference like she wasn't just a leader but a master…
He didn't like where that trail of thought was heading.
Before he could dwell on it, another ripple in the air brushed against his skin—his sense picking up on something slithering behind him.
Elion spun.
From the edge of the shadows, a third figure emerged—moving with unsettling silence.
A lizard-man.
He didn't stomp like the bull or shriek like the crow. No, this one crept. Covered head to toe in glistening emerald scales, his limbs were far too long, his spine coiling like a serpent. Slitted yellow eyes locked onto Jordan with hungry precision. His forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air like he was already imagining what Jordan might taste like.
Jordan's confident posture faltered.
Elion saw it.
"Oh no," Elion muttered, realization hitting like a punch to the gut.
There was one thing—one big thing—about Jordan that most people didn't know. But Elion did. And unfortunately, it was showing. Jordan's face had gone noticeably pale.
The bull-man? No big deal.
The crow-man? Jordan would've cracked jokes mid-fight.
But the lizard-man?
Jordan took a slow, uneasy step back. "I… I hate reptiles," he muttered.
The lizard-man blinked, genuinely intrigued. His slitted eyes narrowed as his tongue flicked the air. "Oh? A Slayer with herpetophobia?"
Jordan's eye twitched. "I'm not afraid. It's just… you. I don't like how you move, man."
Up on the rooftop, the crow-man cackled, clearly having the time of his life. "Oh, this is delightful."
Ronan groaned and fired a harmless aura bullet straight into Jordan's back. "Focus, drama queen."
Jordan shook off the shivers, teeth gritted. "Fine. But if that thing licks me, I'm setting this entire alley on fire."
The bull-man, growing impatient, let out a thunderous snort. "You talk too much!"
Then he charged.
The ground trembled beneath his thundering hooves. Each step shattered the pavement, sending cracks spidering in all directions. His horns lowered. His eyes locked on Jordan like a living battering ram.
The fight had officially begun.
"Whoa! This bull-guy is really not into chatting," Jordan said, gearing up for the hit. "But I guess this is cool, too."
"Don't get too full of yourself, Jordan," Ronan reminded.
He knew this would happen—especially after seeing the potential they showed during training. The way they'd mastered the Four Fundamentals so quickly, unlocking greater strength in such a short time… yeah, it was bound to go to their heads eventually.
As soon as Ronan finished speaking, the force of the impact alone sent shockwaves through the alley as Jordan met the bull's charge head-on, his plated arms locking against the beast's massive horned skull.
Jordan gritted his teeth, planting his feet on the pavement. He barely held his ground.
"Okay," Jordan muttered through clenched teeth. "You're—stronger—than I thought."
The bull-man snorted in his face before jerking his head forward, ramming Jordan full force in the stomach. The impact sent Jordan flying.
CRASH.
He smashed straight through a stack of crates, knocking the wind out of him.
"Jordan!" Elion shouted—but he had his own problems.
The lizard-man struck fast. Annoyingly fast.
Elion tried to weave out of the way, but the lizard's whip-like tail lashed out, catching him in the ribs.
CRACK.
Pain exploded through Elion's side as he was slammed into the alley wall.
He barely had time to recover before the crow-man swooped in from above—razor-sharp talons aiming straight for his throat.
Elion rolled away at the last second, barely dodging. But he was too slow.
The crow-man's wing clipped his shoulder, sending him sprawling.
Elion coughed, spitting blood. "Okay. Ow."
Now he realized—just having a beast ring and three open Mana Gates didn't mean jack. All it did was keep him from dying instantly.
Winning? Yeah, that was a whole different story.
For that, he needed something way more valuable. Experience. And—unfortunately—stupid amounts of reckless courage.
Ronan smiled, casually leaning back as he watched his students go at it. It wasn't time for him to step in—not yet. But even from where he stood, he could tell they'd already forgotten something important.
The lizard-man grinned, his forked tongue flicking out. "You're quick. But not quick enough."
Elion gritted his teeth. He wasn't used to fighting with his new panther legs yet. He had the speed, but his reactions were still off. Even with his high Wisdom stat, he could not think clearly in this kind of situation. He was too focused on using the power of his beast ring.
Jordan, meanwhile, had recovered—but just barely. The bull-man stomped toward him, raising a massive fist to crush him into the pavement.
Jordan rolled aside at the last second, panting. "Okay. Blocking? Bad idea."
Still, as confident as they sounded, Elion and Jordan were getting wrecked. No sugarcoating it—they were getting knocked around like punching bags at a gym where the only rule was "hit harder."
Jordan had taken a direct hit from the bull-man's charge, crashing through a stack of crates like a human wrecking ball. Elion had barely dodged the lizard-man's whip-like tail, but his side still burned from where it grazed him.
And the crow-man? That guy was playing with them. Swooping in, clawing at them, retreating before they could counter. It was humiliating.
Elion wiped the blood from his lip, panting. "Okay. So, uh… we suck at this."
Jordan groaned, pushing himself up from the ground. "No kidding. Thought we were supposed to be Slayers, not a live demonstration of getting our asses handed to us."
The bull-man snorted, scraping his hooves against the ground. The lizard-man flicked his tail, eyes narrowing. The crow-man? He was smirking.
Ronan, completely untouched, leaned against the alley wall, arms crossed. "You do remember what I taught you, right?"
Jordan's eye twitched. "If you say 'stop getting hit,' I swear—"
"No." Ronan pushed off the wall and tapped his temple. "The Four Fundamentals."
Elion and Jordan froze.
"Damn it!" Jordan cursed the frustration aimed squarely at himself.
Pulse, Veil, Fang, and Guard—the Four Fundamentals. The techniques they had worked so hard to master that morning. The foundation that had fired them up.
And now?
Out the window.
"All your fault," Elion muttered, trying to cut the tension with a smirk. "You said, 'It's morphin' time.'"
Jordan groaned. "Yeah, well, next time, I'll keep the Power Rangers to myself."
The moment they got a taste of beast ring transformations, all that focus had shifted. The excitement, the rush—it pulled them away from what truly mattered.
Ronan sighed, shaking his head. "You two got so caught up in looking cool that you forgot everything I taught you this morning."
Elion and Jordan exchanged a look—equal parts guilt and realization. The pressure of the fight. The chaos. The pain. It had drowned out their training. But now, as they drew in a breath and forced themselves to focus... They felt it.
Elion took a slow, focused breath. His Pulse was active and steady in his core. The world sharpened. His awareness expanded like a radar pinging through the air, not just sensing his own aura but locking onto every flicker of movement, every ripple of energy around him. And there it was—the crow-man again, wings spread wide, talons gleaming, slicing through the air with deadly intent.
'There. It's coming.'
Elion didn't see the strike—he felt it. The pressure changed. The faint ripple in the crow-man's killing intent.
SWOOSH.
He slipped past the incoming claws a split second before impact, his body sliding with trained precision. Then, activating Veil, he cloaked his aura entirely, vanishing from the crow-man's perception like smoke in the wind.
The crow-man panicked mid-flight, red eyes darting left and right. His senses were blank. No sound. No pulse. Nothing.
"Where—?"
But by the time he looked up, Elion was already there—above him.
Panther legs coiled, charged with raw Fang. His muscles trembled with stored power, every fiber aligned for one devastating strike.
"Take this!" Elion shouted in fury, and focus fused in a single blow.
BOOM.
His heel crashed into the crow-man's wing, slicing through feathers and bone like a scythe. A fountain of black blood burst into the air as the beast spiraled downward, crashing into the building wall with a pained caw.
Elion landed with feline grace, panting. "Oh, you felt that, huh?"
Meanwhile, Jordan locked in. This time, no distractions. No overthinking. Just Fang, fully charged and flowing through his Rhino-enhanced arms like liquid fire.
His strategy was simple, meet force with force—and hit harder. He stood his ground, letting the energy swirl around his fists, posture loose but ready.
"Come on, big guy," he taunted, voice cocky and calm. "Let's see if you can handle round two."
The bull-man didn't take kindly to that. With a thunderous snort, he charged—horns lowered, hooves pounding the ground like a war drum. His speed spiked, raw fury driving every step.
Jordan smirked. "Perfect."
The beast closed the distance, a freight train of muscle and rage—but Jordan didn't flinch. Not this time.
He waited.
Waited…
Then moved.
At the very last second, Jordan twisted his hips, stepped sideways with surgical precision, and let the bull-man's momentum blow right past him. The alley trembled as the beast stumbled forward, missing his mark by inches.
The bull-man skidded, off-balance, snarling as he turned to find his target. But Jordan was already there—behind him.
Grinning.
"My turn."
He planted his feet, cracking the pavement beneath him. Fang surged through his rhino-armored fist, and with a roar, he launched an uppercut straight into the bull-man's jaw.
BOOM.
The impact echoed through the alley like a cannon blast. The bull-man's feet left the ground as he was lifted clean into the air—then came crashing back down in a heap of muscle, horns, and cracked concrete.
Dust exploded around them.
Jordan cracked his neck, breathing hard, his grin never fading. "Oh yeah. That's more like it."
Debris flew around in the air, limiting vision, but Elion already sensed that the lizard-man was making his move. He was targeting Jordan, who was still focused on the fallen bull.
Elion's heart was pounding, his breath ragged, and his body screamed to move quickly. The memory of last night resurfaced. The memory of Jordan being attacked and poisoned by the ape-man.
"Not a chance!"
Instead of using Fang to increase his destructive power, Elion subconsciously uses it to power up his feet' armor and increase his speed. He moved too fast for the lizard-man to realize.
As he neared the lizard-man, Elion activated Veil to once again mask his presence to appear right behind the enemy. He jumped a bit before striking the lizard-man's head as if he was volleying a ball into the net. The impact was booming as the beast was sent flying before crashing into a wall.
The wall was destroyed, and a few people who were inside the building screamed before they ran out of the building in panic. But still, some of them were too frightened as they plopped down on the floor. Ronan took his action, not against the beast-men but to save the civilians.
He held two people at once and brought them to the nearest exit. "Please. Run as far as possible from here."
Debris clouded the air, chunks of concrete dancing in the dust—but Elion wasn't watching.
He was feeling.
Pulse flared again. That was when Elion could sense that the lizard-man was moving. Fast. Toward Jordan. Elion's heart dropped. Images of last night surged back—Jordan poisoned. On the ground. Gasping.
"Not this time."
He channeled Fang, not into his fists, but his legs. Boosting speed. Reinforcing his foot armor. The world blurred around him as he shot forward—quicker than the lizard-man could track.
At the last moment, Elion activated Veil, erasing his presence entirely.
He appeared behind the lizard man, silent as a shadow, and then leaped into the air. His foot came down like a cannonball—panther legs enhanced with Fang, his soccer instincts kicking in.
BOOM.
The impact was brutal. The lizard-man was launched like a missile, spiraling through the air before slamming through the wall of a nearby building.
CRASH.
The structure groaned under the force—and then the sound hit.
Yelps. Meows. Chirps. Barking.
The entire alley was filled with the sound of panicked animals. Elion blinked. He hadn't hit just any building. He'd kicked the lizard straight through the side of a pet boarding hotel—rows of kennels and glass-walled rooms now exposed, animals going berserk inside.
Inside the rubble, a few staff members screamed. One man bolted. A woman tried to calm the pets but tripped over a panicked golden retriever. A cascade of barking and screeching erupted as birds flapped and dogs howled in their cages.
But not everyone moved.
In the far back, a girl no older than ten was curled on the ground, shielding a small white cat beneath her. Beside her, an older woman—probably her grandmother—stood frozen in place, staring at the gaping hole in the wall with wide, terrified eyes.
And that's when Ronan moved.
He had been watching from the shadows, arms crossed, letting the boys earn their battle scars. But he wasn't just their mentor.
He was still a Slayer.
And more than that—he was human.
With a blur of motion, Ronan blurred past the dust and chaos, landing lightly inside the shattered pet hotel. His cloak fluttered as he stepped through the chaos, his voice cutting through the noise.
"Hey," he said, low and steady. "You two need to move. Now."
The old woman didn't react. The girl clung to her cat, tears streaking her cheeks.
Ronan knelt beside them. "Listen to me. You're not safe here. Another hit like that, and the ceiling's coming down."
The woman finally blinked but shook her head numbly. "I—I can't…"
The girl whimpered. The cat hissed. Ronan exhaled and didn't wait.
With one smooth motion, he scooped the girl into one arm and gently took the woman's wrist with the other.
"Hold on."
And he jumped. In a blur of motion—glass and dust whipping around him—he landed outside the alley in one smooth arc, setting them down behind a nearby dumpster away from the battle.
"Go," he said. "Now. Run until you're out of sight."
The woman hesitated, then nodded, gripping her granddaughter's hand tightly.
"Th-thank you," she said, voice trembling.
Ronan offered a quick nod, gaze already scanning the battlefield. "Keep the cat. He's got guts."
Elion watched lizard-man collapse in a heap, hissing weakly. His forked tongue flicked out one last time before his body slumped, unmoving.
Elion exhaled hard, shaking out his leg. "Well… I didn't expect that."
His heart pounded. Adrenaline surged through every nerve. Had he seriously just killed—
"Bro!" Jordan shouted, disbelief cutting through the chaos. "Did you just volley a lizard-man to death?!"
Elion blinked, finally processing it. "I mean… yeah. Guess I did."
A grin crept onto his face.
Jordan let out a low whistle. "Damn. Maybe you've been in the wrong sport this whole time. Should've been kicking people instead of balls."
Elion rolled his shoulders. "You talk too much. Go punch something before I take your fight, too."
Jordan cracked his knuckles with a smirk. "Oh, don't worry. I'm warmed up now."
He turned back toward the bull-man—who was already standing, snorting like a freight train. Even after Jordan's earlier strike, the guy looked barely winded.
Tougher than expected.
One down. Two to go.
This time, Jordan didn't rush in. No reckless charges. No wasted motion. He tapped into Pulse, letting the beast's aura fill his senses. He adjusted his stance—weight light, feet steady. Fang simmered in his fists, ready to ignite. Veil wasn't necessary now. This wasn't about hiding.
It was about domination.
Ronan and Elion could feel it—something had shifted in Jordan's aura. His presence felt sharper. Focused.
"Let's start," Jordan said calmly.
The bull-man didn't need more prompting. He roared and charged again, throwing a wild haymaker, aiming straight for Jordan's head. Jordan weaved under it, smooth and practiced—like slipping punches back in a Muay Thai gym. Except no gym had ever thrown a punch that could knock down a wall.
He chuckled. "Yeah, okay. Definitely not Thailand."
"Shut up and die!" the bull-man bellowed, swinging wildly.
But Jordan wasn't just dodging anymore. Pulse told him where the next strike would come. He sensed the shift in pressure, the slight flex in the beast's shoulder.
"Right hook," he muttered—and dodged perfectly.
Then it was his turn.
"Eat this!" Jordan snarled, planting his foot and twisting his hips. Fang surged down his arm, and his rhino-enhanced elbow smashed upward into the bull-man's jaw.
CRACK.
The bull staggered, dazed. Jordan didn't let up. But the beast recovered fast—too fast. With a furious snort, the bull dropped his horns and charged full force.
"Oh, hell no."
Jordan barely had time to react—but instinct took over. A Muay Thai clinch fused with Fang. He caught the bull's head mid-charge, locking his hands behind the thick, bristled fur. Then he shifted his weight and drove a knee straight into the beast's snout. Mid-motion, his leg transformed—rhino-plated armor encased his knee, pulsing with explosive energy.
BAM.
Blood and spit flew. The bull reeled. Jordan didn't stop. His shin followed next—transforming in a flash. He pivoted, launching into a full roundhouse.
WHAM.
The bull crashed into the alley wall like a wrecking ball, bricks and dust flying.
Jordan huffed, rubbing his shoulder. "God, that felt good."
But then—fizzle. His rhino armor vanished. The transformation dropped, leaving him in his regular form.
Jordan blinked. "Oh, come on—"
"You really should've listened to me," Ronan called from the rooftop, where the crow-man still perched. "Stop burning your mana like it grows on trees."
Elion stayed sharp, even while catching his breath. He tracked the crow-man's position using Pulse, knowing he couldn't afford to take his eyes—or senses—off him.
Back in the alley, the bull-man groaned, already rising. Jordan braced. He hadn't expected him to bounce back so fast. A massive hoofed foot swung at him—too fast. Jordan reacted out of habit, and Fang was still in his system, but he didn't have time to switch to Guard.
SMACK.
Pain exploded through his ribs as he was sent skidding across the pavement, crashing into a trash bin with a loud clang.
He coughed, groaning. "Okay... still learning the switching part."
Jordan forced himself up, ribs screaming. His transformations were inconsistent—sometimes full armor, sometimes beast parts. And the worst part?
He had zero control over which version was activated. But he didn't have time to figure it out. The bull was charging again.
Jordan locked his stance.
Fang. Just Fang.
He didn't need perfect control. He needed impact.
The bull swung.
Jordan blocked with his forearm—just in time. Rhino plating formed again, deflecting the blow with a loud CLANG. The force rippled through him, but he stayed grounded. Then he countered—one straight punch, knuckles shifting into hardened beast form mid-swing.
CRACK.
Blood sprayed. The bull staggered. Jordan narrowed his eyes. This was it. He just needed one more hit. He surged forward, Fang fully activated. His right arm gleamed gold-black as his beast ring flared.
"Take this!" he shouted.
He twisted his hips and launched into a brutal uppercut—one charged with every ounce of strength and fury.
BOOM.
The bull-man's head snapped back. His massive form lifted off the ground for a second—then slammed down hard.
Motionless.
Jordan exhaled, hand shaking slightly. "Damn. Finally."
His beast arm flickered out of existence.
Elion jogged over, panting. "You good?"
Jordan winced and rolled his shoulder. "Took a few hits, but yeah. You?"
Elion flashed a grin. "Thinking of switching from soccer to MMA."
Jordan laughed—then immediately groaned. "Ugh. Okay, jokes hurt. Let's finish this before I pass out."
Two down.
One left.