Chapter 71: Demon Combat Practice. (2)
Several students descended to the arena.
The ground wasn’t solid like that of the previous courtyard. It was covered by a layer of sand... but not common sand. The color was dark purple, with denser variations that seemed to absorb light instead of reflecting it. Each step left a mark that took time to disappear, as if the material had some internal resistance before settling again.
Aku advanced a few meters into the terrain and stopped.
Bīng Xuě crouched down, took some between his fingers, and let it fall.
"It’s heavy," he commented.
Gerald said nothing. He stayed near the edge, looking at the ground with some discomfort.
The group finished entering.
Then the arena moved.
It wasn’t a vibration. It was a localized displacement. Several areas of the ground sank slightly, as if something were sliding underneath. The shadows projected on the surface changed shape, elongating without the light source varying.
From one of those points, a figure emerged.
First, a hand.
Pale. Thin. Long fingers, topped by well-defined black nails. The skin contrasted with the sand, clean, without marks.
Then the arm.
Then the rest of the body.
The woman emerged completely from the sand without visible effort, as if passing through thick water. When her feet touched the surface, the material stabilized beneath her.
She straightened calmly.
Her presence occupied the center of the space.
She wore a dark outfit, fitted, with a structure that combined fabric and rigid pieces. The corset marked her torso firmly, reinforced by fine metallic lines running along the edges. Several chains hung from the waist, some taut, others loose, producing a slight metallic sound when moving.
On her shoulders, small decorative pieces in bone shape protruded outward, polished, placed symmetrically. They weren’t large, but stood out against the ensemble.
Her skin was pale, uniform, without visible imperfections. The contrast with the black of her clothing made each feature stand out clearly.
The makeup was carefully defined. Dark shadows surrounded her eyes, extending toward the sides in fine lines. The eyeliner marked the shape precisely, slightly elongating the gaze. Her lips, covered by a matte black tone, maintained a firm line, without any gesture.
Her hair fell straight down her back. Black for the most part, with white strands distributed irregularly, not symmetrically. They weren’t fine. They were visible blocks that broke the dark ensemble.
Her eyes fixed on the group.
Golden.
The glow was constant, without reflections indicating emotion.
"Morgana von Darkhold," she said.
Her voice was low, uniform. Each word came out with the same weight, without variations in tone.
The name remained suspended in the space.
Gerald was the first to react.
He leaned slightly toward Aku, without taking his eyes off her.
"Why are all the teachers so hot...?" he murmured. "I mean... not complaining, eh..."
He adjusted his glasses.
"I wouldn’t mind if this one punished me after class..."
Bīng Xuě looked at him for a second.
Then he observed the woman again.
Aku said nothing.
His attention remained fixed on Morgana.
Her posture.
The way she had appeared.
The absence of any unnecessary gesture.
She didn’t seem like a heroine.
Not in the usual sense.
There was something different in the way she occupied space. She didn’t impose by volume or visible energy. It was something else. More contained.
More... specific.
Morgana didn’t react to the comments.
"You’re going to learn to fight monsters," she said.
The same tone.
Flat.
"One by one."
She turned slightly, indicating with her gaze a side section of the room.
Until that moment, it had gone unnoticed.
An opening in the wall, narrow from outside. Behind it, a structure in the form of descending stands, integrated into the rock. The seats were simple, without clear separation between them.
"Position yourselves there."
She didn’t raise her voice.
She didn’t need to.
The students began moving.
The flow was orderly, without pushing. Some looked back as they advanced, attentive to what would happen in the arena.
Aku walked to the opening and descended the steps. He chose a middle position, with good view of the center.
Bīng Xuě sat beside him, resting his elbows on his knees.
Gerald took a bit longer to settle, glancing sideways at the surroundings before sitting down.
Morgana remained in the center.
She waited.
When everyone was positioned, she spoke again.
"Antony Heart."
The name resonated clearly.
From one of the rows, a young man stood up.
Red hair, carefully styled. The strands fell in a controlled way, without disorder. His eyes, golden, maintained a confident expression, almost arrogant. His uniform was perfectly fitted, without wrinkles.
A rose peeked from his jacket pocket.
He descended the steps with firm pace.
Each movement seemed measured. There was no hurry. No doubt.
Upon reaching the arena, he stopped in front of Morgana.
He smiled.
"Well..." he said, tilting his head slightly. "I didn’t expect the first practical class to be so interesting."
His fingers brushed the rose in his pocket.
"A pleasure."
Morgana looked at him.
She didn’t respond to his gesture.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
The tone didn’t change.
Antony maintained the smile.
"Of course."
He added nothing more.
It was enough.
At that instant, something changed.
Morgana’s golden pupils contracted.
The shape altered.
The color shifted toward an intense pink tone, and the pupil’s figure transformed. A defined outline, with the clear shape of a heart.
Her expression changed with them.
Her lips curved slightly. It wasn’t a wide smile, but it was visible. Her eyes opened a bit more, and her posture leaned forward barely a few degrees.
"Excellent... excellent," she said.
The tone remained low, but now had variation. An irregular rhythm, more marked.
Her fingers moved more rapidly, the chains at her waist tinkled.
"Then..."
She made a brief pause.
"Let’s begin."
The ground vibrated.
It wasn’t a superficial movement.
The purple sand stirred in several areas at once, rising in small columns before collapsing again. The surface stopped being uniform. Undulations formed, irregular displacements that ran across the field in all directions.
Antony maintained his position.
His gaze fixed on the terrain.
His hands tensed at the sides of his body.
The sand moved again.