Belial walked casually through the dense underbrush of the forest, humming a relaxed melody while taking in the invigorating breeze. He had always found comfort in the wilderness, where the sounds of rustling leaves and distant wildlife calmed his nerves. He was relaxed and light-hearted, playfully hitting low-hanging branches with the back of his hand. The gentle sound of twigs and leaves being stepped on by his boots synced with his whistling, creating a peaceful moment.

At that moment, while he was completely off guard, something grabbed his attention. A quick movement, barely visible in his side vision, made him stop in the middle of his step. His instincts suddenly activated, and without being able to comprehend the situation, a shadowy figure rapidly approached him like a bullet.

Belial’s body reacted before his mind did. Using a smooth evasion, he managed to avoid the strike, his sharp reflexes developed from numerous fights preventing him from receiving a harmful hit. With a fluid movement, he jumped and landed on the sturdy bough of a tree close by. He had a clear view of the person attacking him from where he was standing.

The being beneath him was tiny, resembling a human but with noticeable elongated ears and a tail that moved anxiously from side to side. Its body was compact and agile, clearly built for speed and precision. Though the creature looked young, Belial knew better than to judge anyone here by their appearance. In this place, power often hid behind unsuspecting forms.

"Hey, little man," Belial called out with a grin, settling back on the branch as though the encounter was a casual affair. "What’s the hurry? You miss your naptime or something?"

The creature, now fully visible, growled in response. Clearly, it was not amused by Belial’s mocking tone.

"Don’t call me little!" the creature snapped, its voice high-pitched and edgy with annoyance. "My name is Pacey! Who are you to call me short, anyway? Compared to your friend, you look like utter trash!"

Belial casually rested against the tree's trunk, laughing with his head tilted back. He had encountered people eager to prove themselves by insulting him before, and it won't be the last time.

"Me? I’m just a wandering traveler," he said, the sly grin never leaving his face. "But you, my friend, sure look like you could use a good beating."

The air between them grew tense as Pacey’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. The creature’s entire demeanor shifted, the playful annoyance fading into something far more dangerous. His eyes, once merely irritated, now gleamed with a predatory focus.

"You think you’re tough, huh?" Pacey sneered, his teeth bared in a menacing grin. "Well, let’s see what you’ve got, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll consider letting you into our guild."

Belial’s smirk widened. He had faced down monsters, demons, and worse, and yet here he was, exchanging taunts with a creature half his size. "You really think you can take me down, shorty?"

Pacey growled again, his long ears twitching in irritation. "Mind your mouth, Belial," he snapped. "Just because you can’t use hax doesn’t mean I’ll be going easy on you."

Belial waved his hand dismissively, his expression unbothered by the warning. "Don’t worry about me. I don’t need hax to take care of you. Good old-fashioned fist fight works just fine."

He jumped off the tree and landed gently on the ground of the forest. He clenched his fists and cracked his knuckles, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes remaining constant. "Challenge accepted," he replied in a confident, low voice. "Let's get started."

As soon as the words were spoken by him, Pacey attacked. A strong burst of wind came rushing towards Belial, powerful enough to throw a weaker fighter off balance. However, Belial reacted swiftly, his movements displaying the gracefulness of an experienced fighter as he avoided the strike. He laughed, obviously savoring the excitement of the battle.

"Nice try, short stack," Belial taunted, his words audible above the wind's rush. "You'll need to do much more than that if you want to defeat me."

Pacey's growl intensified as his tail whipped in agitation behind him. Without any notice, he pounced on Belial with his claws extended, prepared to rip into his adversary. Belial had to acknowledge that the small guy was quick, as his speed of movement was impressive. Belial, however, was quicker.

He easily avoided each swipe, moving from side to side as Pacey's claws cut through the air. Belial's brow began to perspire, showing the hard work, yet he still smiled at the corners of his lips.

"Okay, okay, I see you’re not messing around," he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "But let’s see how you handle this."

In an instant, Belial switched to attack mode. He moved rapidly ahead, throwing a flurry of punches and kicks with his fists. Credit goes to Pacey for dodging several attacks, but Belial's incredible speed overwhelmed him. Several precisely thrown punches landed, causing Pacey to stagger backward.

However, the creature had not finished. Snarling, Pacey jumped back into the battle, utilizing his wind hax to create gusts of air and keep Belial away. It turned into a cat-and-mouse situation, as Belial skillfully avoided the wind attack while Pacey attempted to keep him away.

Both of them hesitated, cautiously circling each other, unwilling to initiate the next action. Suddenly, Pacey charged with a burst of energy. Belial swiftly dodged his claws targeting his face and retaliated with a roundhouse kick, which Pacey narrowly avoided by ducking.

Belial's smile grew wider, his eyes shone with mischief. "Let's go, buddy," he teased, observing Pacey with a mischievous sparkle in his gaze. "Is that everything you have?"

The taunt did exactly what he expected. Pacey's face contorted with rage, long ears flattening against his head as a low growl rumbled from his chest. The small but agile proctor summoned another gust of wind, this time even more powerful than before. Belial tried to dodge, but the force of the wind hit him square in the chest, sending him flying backward like a ragdoll.

His back slammed into the thick trunk of a nearby tree with a sickening thud, knocking the air out of his lungs. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, his ribs aching from the impact. Pacey, sensing his advantage, wasted no time. He lunged forward, claws flashing dangerously in the dim light, and slashed at Belial’s ribs, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Ow!" Belial yelped, stumbling backward as he clutched his side. The sting of the wound brought clarity, but the sharpness of the attack was unexpected. “You fight dirty!” he spat, glaring at the smaller fighter.

Pacey's smile grew bigger, his shiny teeth visible in the dim light coming through the trees. "It's all love in this guild," he chuckled, his voice filled with amusement.

Just as Belial was about to roll his eyes, another strong gust of wind hit him. This time, the intensity of the force was even greater. He experienced his body being lifted above the ground by the fierce gust. He was hurled through the air similar to a leaf in a storm, colliding with another tree with such power that the branches overhead quivered and rattled.

Confused and lost, Belial tried hard to orient himself. He felt his sight become fuzzy as everything around him swirled, with the wind blowing against his face and clothing. The scene was full of chaos, the ground itself appeared to revolt as the windstorm grew stronger, pulling trees from their roots and flinging them in his direction without a care in the world.

Belial felt like he was stuck in a never-ending moment, skillfully avoiding the barrage of flying debris in a dangerous dance. Each movement was a frantic effort to remain standing, to steer clear of the sharp branches and broken trunks aiming to overwhelm him. His muscles protested loudly, but he pushed past the pain, determined not to be defeated by the storm.

And at that moment, the windstorm stopped as abruptly as it had started. The atmosphere became calm, creating a weighty, unsettling quiet afterwards. Belial was on the ground, his body covered in bruises and his limbs in pain from the constant attack. His garments were ripped, his cap missing in the mayhem, and his chest rose and fell with difficult breaths.

Pacey stood above him, gazing down with a self-satisfied expression. “That was pretty fun,” remarked the smaller proctor, his tone bright and happy, as though the entire conflict had been simply a fun experience. "I didn't expect you to survive against my tornado for so long. But you're still on your feet, that's good”

Belial grimaced, removing a small amount of blood from his lip while getting up. All of his muscles were shouting in refusal, but he wasn't going to allow Pacey to have the final say. "Insane," he muttered, his voice filled with frustration. I came close to death due to that tornado.

Pacey laughed, showing no signs of being bothered by Belial's frustration. "He said it, but it did not happen," he said, his smile getting bigger. "What are you trying to say?"

Belial lost his patience. He darkened in expression, disappearing from sight before Pacey could respond, then reappearing behind the proctor suddenly. His hand shone faintly with energy while he executed a quick, accurate hit on the back of Pacey's head. The impact of the strike was so strong that it caused the smaller being to fall to the ground, knocked out before making contact with the soil.

Belial stepped back, breathing heavily, his hands shaking from the effort. Adrenaline raced through his veins as his heart thumped in his chest. He didn't intend to hit Pacey with so much force - he was just attempting to protect himself. However, the tiny individual had encouraged him to utilize something unusual, and now, gazing down at the proctor who was unconscious, a feeling of remorse engulfed him.

"Sorry little guy," he whispered quietly, feeling guilty.

Belial knelt down and checked Pacey's pulse, feeling his heart race as he pressed two fingers on the proctor's neck. His pulse was faint, and his breath was shallow, but consistent. Belial felt a sense of relief as he discovered he had not inflicted any permanent harm. He breathed out unsteadily, glad he hadn't pushed himself too much.

…

Belial stepped up, with the desk between him and Natalie. Natalie raised her gaze to his face, her eyes hazy with uncertain clouds.

Natalie’s piercing gaze shifted back to Belial, who suddenly found himself feeling less confident than usual. Her stare was intense, cold, and calculating, a stark contrast to her usual businesslike demeanor. It felt as though she was seeing through his exterior, peeling away the layers of bravado.

Belial scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He could feel Xin watching him from the side, quiet but present, waiting for his response. The silence between them stretched uncomfortably as Natalie’s unspoken demand for an explanation lingered in the air.

"I, uh... didn’t exactly pass,” Belial muttered, glancing down at the floor, his voice barely above a whisper.

Natalie's expression didn’t change. She crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, waiting for him to elaborate. The weight of her silence made him feel even more unsettled.

“I ran into Pacey, and things got... out of hand,” he admitted, his voice carrying a faint hint of guilt. “He attacked me first, and I defended myself, but I may have gone a little overboard."

Natalie’s eyes narrowed. "Overboard how?"

"I used an orthodox way to incapacitate him" Belial’s voice was firmer this time. He wasn’t proud of it, but he wasn’t about to hide what had happened. "Used some battle arts. I didn’t mean to hurt him too badly, but..." He trailed off, not wanting to admit that he'd lost control.

Natalie’s lips pressed into a thin line. She was clearly displeased but held back any immediate judgment. Instead, she glanced down at Pacey’s unconscious form, slung over Belial’s shoulder, his body limp and breathing shallow.

“Battle arts?” She repeated, her tone even, though her eyes flickered with disapproval. “This wasn’t a fight to the death, Belial. This was a test.”

Belial felt a flicker of defensiveness rise in his chest, but he held it back, knowing it wouldn’t help his case. “He wasn’t pulling his punches, either,” he countered softly. “Pacey threw everything at me, and I just reacted.”

Natalie sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not just about who threw what. You’re both candidates, not enemies.”

Xin, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow. “Pacey isn’t exactly easy to deal with,” he offered, his voice gruff but reasonable. “He’s got a temper. If Belial hadn’t knocked him out, this could have gone a lot worse.”

Natalie’s gaze shifted to Xin, and she gave a curt nod, acknowledging his point. “I know Pacey’s temperament,” she said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that this could have been avoided.” Her eyes flicked back to Belial. “Control, Belial. That’s what we’re testing as much as your strength or skill. You can’t just lash out because you’re provoked.”

Belial opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat. She was right, of course. He had let his emotions get the better of him, reacting to Pacey’s taunts and attacks instead of keeping a level head. The fight had been intense, and Pacey had pushed him harder than expected, but he hadn’t needed to go that far.

“I’ll admit,” Belial said after a moment, his voice quieter now, “I lost my cool. It won’t happen again.”

Natalie studied him for a long moment, then let out a slow breath, her expression softening just slightly. “You’ve got potential, Belial. But you need to learn to rein it in. Otherwise, you’ll end up hurting someone—or yourself—when it matters most.”

Belial nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle over him. He couldn’t argue with her logic. In the heat of battle, he had let his pride and frustration get in the way of his better judgment.

“We’ll get Pacey to the medics,” Natalie continued, her tone shifting back to businesslike. “He’ll be fine, but this can’t happen again. Next time, you need to think before you act.”

Belial felt a twinge of guilt as he glanced back at the unconscious Pacey. He hadn’t intended to take things this far, but now that it had happened, he needed to face the consequences. 

“Right,” he said simply, accepting her reprimand.