The Crimson Mauler roared—a sound that hit the cadets like a physical force, rattling their ribs and kicking their instincts into pure, unadulterated panic.

  Rowen’s bravado evaporated instantly. “NOPE—NOPE—WE’RE LEAVING,” he snapped, his fire flaring in terrified bursts as he scanned the trees for an exit. “We can outrun it if we split—”

  “No, we can’t!” Ray shouted.

  Rowen spun on him, rage and fear twisting his bruised face. “What would you know, loser—!?”

  Ray grabbed a rock and hurled it at the beast. It didn't do damage, but it got the monster's attention. The Crimson Mauler was lowering its center of gravity, spines rattling like swords grinding together. Each breath it took melted the frost off nearby stones.

  “That thing crossed half the forest in seconds,” Ray said, his voice surprisingly steady despite his knocking knees. “Running only makes us dessert. We have to stand.”

  Rowen’s jaw clenched. His pride screamed no, but his survival instinct was screaming yes. A low growl rumbled from the beast—its tusks heating toward a molten, glowing orange.

  “…Fine. TEMPORARY alliance,” Rowen snapped. “But if you get in my way—”

  “I won’t,” Ray said, raising his fists. “I don’t plan on being a snack today.”

  The Mauler lunged.

  “Rian! Harold—WALL! NOW!” Rowen barked.

  Rian and Rowen’s earth-user counterpart slammed their hands to the dirt in unison. Jagged stone plates erupted upward, forming a crude but solid shield wall. The Mauler hit the stone with the force of a falling star, sending cracks racing through the barrier like lightning.

  “Wind! COVER!” Rowen snarled.

  Calen and the rival wind-user whipped their arms forward. Twin gusts burst out, catching the creature’s head and redirecting its momentum just enough to keep it from shattering the barricade. Ray’s heart pounded. They were holding it back… barely.

  The Mauler scraped its claws across the stone, muscles coiling for a second leap.

  “It’s going to break through!” Harel shouted, his water hovering shakily in his palms.

  “GOOD!” Rowen yelled, his flames licking up his arms. “We hit it the moment it does!”

  Ray clenched his fist. The Ash Circuit was stirring—hot, hungry, and frustratingly quiet. Come on... move. The barrier shattered. The Crimson Mauler charged.

  Ray ran beside Rowen. Rowen was blazing like a miniature sun, heat warping the air around his blade. And Ray? Ray was just a sweaty fifteen-year-old in a ripped shirt, praying his legs didn't give out.

  “WHY ARE YOU STILL NORMAL?!” Rowen barked mid-charge.

  “I DON’T KNOW! MY MAGIC HAS PERFORMANCE ANXIETY!” Ray barked back.

  Rowan didn’t have time to argue. He struck first, his fire-coated blade carving a line across the Mauler’s hind leg. The beast snarled, but the blow only seemed to annoy it. Rian and the rival earth-user slammed their hardened fists into the creature's flank, the impact sounding like a sledgehammer hitting a mountain.

  Water drills from Harel and the rival water cadet lunged in, stabbing at the Mauler’s ribs. Steam erupted where water met heat. The beast buckled for a heartbeat.

  Ray, having absolutely nothing magical to contribute, grabbed the nearest fist-sized rock, wound his arm back, and smashed it into the Mauler’s forehead.

  THUNK.

  The Mauler blinked. Ray blinked back. Rowen stared at Ray as if witnessing a literal crime against combat.

  “ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” Rowen shouted, his flames sputtering in disbelief. “A ROCK?! YOU HAVE A SIGIL AND YOU THREW A STUPID ROCK?!”

  “MY SIGIL ISN'T ANSWERING!” Ray yelled, throwing his hands up.

  “THEN FORCE IT OUT!”

  “HOW?! I’M TRYING!! DO YOU WANT TO HELP OR DO YOU WANT TO CRITIQUE MY PROJECTILES?!”

  Ray picked up another rock. Rowen looked like he was going to have an aneurysm. “I SWEAR IF YOU THROW ANOTHER—!”

  The Mauler cut them off with a roar, its molten breath surging toward them in a wave of fire. Rian lunged, pulling both Ray and Rowen aside just as the forest canopy above them ignited.

  The battle became a chaotic blur of elemental flashes. Rowen re-ignited his blade. Rian hardened his skin to stone. Harel formed spinning water blades. Calen danced on the slipstreams.

  And Ray… Ray picked up a significantly bigger rock.

  Rowen nearly tore his hair out. “STOP WITH THE ROCKS!”

  Ray hurled it anyway. It bounced off the monster’s skull with a humiliating plunk. The Mauler, insulted more than injured, turned its murderous, white-hot gaze directly at Ray.

  Ray squeaked. “…Oh gods.”

  He ducked under a swipe of molten claws, skidding through the mud. The Mauler’s roar shook his very marrow. There was no way they were killing this thing head-on. Not with two half-starved squads and a protagonist who was currently acting like a caveman.

  Ray dodged another strike, his mind racing through the map, the terrain, the details—and then it hit him. A detail he’d noticed while whining about his blisters thirty minutes ago.

  The cliff. The sheer, hundreds-of-feet-down cliff.

  Ray scrambled to his feet, eyes wide. “ROWEN! RIAN! CHANGE OF PLANS!”

  “LESS TALKING, MORE BLASTING!” Rowen yelled, narrowly avoiding a tusk.

  “WE CAN'T BLAST IT!” Ray screamed over the roar. “WE HAVE TO TRICK IT! FOLLOW ME!”

  Ray didn't wait for an answer. He turned and sprinted toward the thinned tree line, heart hammering, praying that the "Powerful Monster" quest had a loophole for gravity.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  The cliff loomed ahead—a sheer, terrifying drop into a sea of emerald canopy hundreds of feet below. It was a drop big enough to kill something ten times the size of the molten death-beast currently trying to turn the cadets into soup.

  “HEY!” Ray shouted, his voice cracking as he dove behind the cover of Rian’s hardened stone arm. “WE CAN’T BEAT IT HERE! BUT THE CLIFF—THE HUGE ONE WE PASSED—WE HAVE TO LURE IT THERE!”

  Rowen blasted a desperate arc of fire at the Mauler’s face, barely buying a yard of space. “WHAT ABOUT IT?!”

  “GRAVITY, ROWEN!” Ray yelled. “We knock it off! We let the planet do the work!”

  The fighting didn’t stop physically, but mentally, the gears shifted. Everyone looked at Ray like he’d just suggested they try to make friends with the monster.

  The rival Wind-girl blinked, ducking a stray ember. “That… might actually work.”

  Rowen’s rival Water-boy nodded, his chest heaving. “It’s better than dying in the dirt!”

  Rian slammed his fists together, dust swirling around his boots. “If we can get it close enough to the edge, we can push. All of us. At once.”

  Rowen glared at Ray through a mask of sweat, soot, and bruises. His flames flickered, exhausted. Then—a smirk tugged at the corner of his swollen lip.

  “Tch. Fine,” Rowen spat. “But if this fails, Melborne, I’m haunting you for the rest of your pathetic life.”

  Ray swallowed hard. “That’s fair.”

  Behind them, the Crimson Mauler roared—hotter, angrier, the molten cracks along its hide widening as its internal temperature spiked. Ray pointed toward the thinned tree line.

  “THE CLIFF IS THAT WAY! GO! GO! GO!”

  It was a chaotic, desperate dance. They weaved through the trees, hurling stones, fire, and wind—anything to keep the Mauler’s murderous focus pinned on them. The beast followed, a lumbering mountain of lava and fur, smashing through ancient oaks as if they were toothpicks.

  But the lure cost them.

  An hour of sprinting while dodging sprays of burning magma and explosive swipes. An hour of stumbling, bleeding, and breathing in ash. By the time they reached the precipice, the "Mirror" Water-boy finally collapsed mid-sprint, his face ghost-white.

  Calen scooped him up without hesitation, wind swirling around his tired legs to lighten the load.

  “Don’t… drop him…” Ray wheezed.

  “I don’t drop people,” Calen lied, his voice trembling with fatigue.

  They reached the cliff’s edge—battered, bloodied, and cornered. One more step backward and the forest ended. One wrong move and the world became nothing but sky.

  Then the realization hit them all at once. The "Death Job."

  Someone had to stand at the very edge. Someone had to be the bait to make the monster commit to a full-speed charge. They had to wait until the last possible microsecond before jumping aside.

  Calen inhaled shakily, setting the unconscious cadet down. “…I’ll go.”

  Ray spun toward him. “What?! Calen—no—”

  “I’ve got the wind, Ray,” Calen said, trying for a grin but finding only a mask of fear. “If anyone can leap out of the way in time… it’s me. I'm the fastest.”

  Rowen scoffed, though the usual bite was gone. “You’ll die.”

  “Maybe,” Calen said honestly. “But better me than all of us.”

  Rian placed a heavy, stone-textured hand on Calen’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Rian,” Calen said, raising his eyebrows as he stepped toward the abyss, “everything we’ve done today has been stupid.”

  He took his position. One foot from the drop. The wind curled around his ankles like nervous fingers, whispering through the grass. The others scattered, taking their positions on the flanks.

  “READY?!” Ray shouted.

  Calen raised his arm, his voice breaking but defiant: “HEY! YOU LAVA-SPITTING LUMP OF A HAIRLESS BEAR! COME GET ME!”

  The Crimson Mauler roared, its molten cracks blazing a blinding, sun-bright orange. It lowered its head, its heavy claws tilling the earth, and then—it charged.

  The plan was perfect. Almost.

  The beast thundered forward, a mountain of molten fury—until the very second the cliff edge entered its field of awareness. Then, it stopped. It skidded hard, its massive claws carving deep trenches in the earth as it fought its own momentum. Its molten eyes narrowed, glowing with a hateful intelligence.

  It took one step back. Then another.

  The Crimson Mauler wasn't stupid.

  “Ah…” Calen croaked, still frozen on the precipice. “Oh no. Oh, this is bad.”

  Ray’s heart sank. The Mauler refused to get closer. It sensed the trap, and it wouldn't die easily. Their one plan—their only shot—was crumbling. The beast began to circle, its heavy steps making the ground tremble as it hunted for an angle that would let it kill them without risking the fall.

  Calen was cornered. He stood with his back to the abyss, the wind flickering weakly around his ankles. Nowhere to run. The Mauler stalked closer, knowing its prey was trapped.

  Calen’s breath hitched. His legs shook. Pure, primal panic swallowed him whole, and for a heartbeat, Ray saw his friend's spirit break.

  And something inside Ray snapped.

  Why?! Why can't I use it?! Why am I always just dead weight? Ray’s fists shook with a rage that finally eclipsed his fear. Dammit… come on… COME ON!

  Then—a voice in his memory. Warm. Excited. Young. Shinji, age nine, sitting on their worn carpet: “Shout your attack name, Ray. It’s the only way to make it real.”

  No logic. No technique. Just the raw, earnest belief of a child who wanted to save the world.

  A pressure built in Ray's chest. A heat. A swirling pulse of smoke surged through his veins, hungry and violent. He clenched his fist—but paused. If he ran for a punch, he’d never make it. Calen would be torn apart before Ray crossed the clearing.

  He needed range. He needed power. He needed…

  His mind flashed to an old mecha show—giant steel robots firing their fists like missiles.

  Oh. OH. YES.

  Ray inhaled sharply, his lungs burning with the scent of ozone and ash. With every ounce of desperation, courage, and shōnen-protagonist insanity in his soul, he roared:

  “煙拳?ロケットパンチ！！ — ENKEN: ROKETTO PANCHI!!” (Smoke Fist Rocket Punch!!)

  The air ignited.

  Smoke exploded from Ray’s arm—not a gentle puff, but a violent, high-pressure jet-blast, spiraling like a rocket engine. His fist didn’t fly off, but Ray did. The recoil launched him forward like a human projectile. He became a comet of trailing grey smoke, fist-first and screaming.

  Calen’s eyes widened. The Crimson Mauler reared back, surprised by the sudden ballistic teenager.

  WHAM!!

  Ray’s smoking fist slammed into the beast’s jaw with the force of a battering ram fired from a cannon. The Mauler’s head snapped sideways. Its molten teeth cracked. Its entire multi-ton body lurched—and its footing slipped.

  The cliff edge crumbled.

  The monster toppled backward in slow, apocalyptic motion. Ray, skidding across the dirt from the impact, realized the momentum wasn't stopping. “Oh SHIT—!!”

  The two squads bolted toward Calen in a frantic, terrifying blur. Ray dove first, his fingers scraping the dirt until they caught a thick, gnarled root jutting from the cliffside.

  Rian slammed into him, grabbing Ray’s forearm with a stone-grip. Rowen latched onto Rian’s waist, cursing at the top of his lungs. Harel grabbed Rowen’s belt. The rival water-boy hugged Harel. The earth-boy and wind-girl threw their arms around Ray’s legs. And finally—Calen, shaking and pale, grabbed Harel’s wrist with a choked scream.

  The human chain dangled over the abyss. Behind them, the cliff gave way. A roaring cascade of stone thundered downward as the Crimson Mauler tumbled into the dark, its bellowing roar eventually swallowed by the chasm.

  Silence. Only the wind brushed past them, cool and unreal.

  “…WE’RE ALIVE!?” Ray screamed into the void.

  Calen immediately burst into hysterical sobs. Rian wheezed like a dying accordion. Rowen spat out a mouthful of dirt and croaked, “Never. Again. I am never doing that again.”

  Ray dangled at the front of the chain, his lungs burning and his face caked in dust. For a long, breathless moment, he didn't care about the pain or the Prince or the Academy.

  He had done it.

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  QUEST COMPLETE!

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  Rewards Earned:

  AMATERION SURGE — Lv.1 (Passive)

  +20% to all stats for 60 seconds when triggered ? EXP Gained

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