Chapter 25: Menma VS Illusions
Menma sprinted through the thick underbrush of the forest, ducking low branches and leaping over tangled roots.
The scent of burnt wood and bitter potions still lingered in the air—scars of the battle that had ended hours ago.
He'd scoured every corner of this cursed forest, but Dayne was nowhere. Not a print. Not a whisper.
Finally, he came to a stop beneath a towering oak, sweat dripping down his face.
"Damn it," he muttered, planting his hands on his knees. "Is it already over?"
He stared out at the still woods, heart pounding.
Maybe Lunara was the final opponent. Maybe Annie miscounted. Maybe... I already won the Festival of Witches.
A grin spread across his face. He plopped down on a nearby rock, leaning back with satisfaction.
Imagine the look on Lunara's face when I tell her... 'Now you're only one victory ahead.'
The thought made him chuckle.
But then something hit him—a jolt in the chest, sharp and cold.