As Finch, Asher, and William tore through the air at breakneck speed, their senses remained on high alert. None of them knew how far their destination truly was, and in a world filled with uncertainties, anything could happen along the way. Besides, even if the Star Academy had intentionally designed this mission to push students to their limits, they had seven whole days to complete it. That alone meant the Academy had already made the necessary calculations, every second, every challenge, and almost every possible failure had been accounted for.
The world became nothing more than a blur in their vision as they raced through the skies. The roaring wind screamed past their ears, yet not one of them spoke. They simply focused ahead, guided only by the compass arrow and the faint pulse of energy that marked their path forward.
Then, suddenly, Asherās head snapped to the side. The Astra-forged circular platform beneath him, on which he sat cross-legged, halted abruptly in midair. The sudden stop caused the air to ripple faintly around him. Seeing Asherās movement, Finch and William came to a halt as well, their bodies hovering several dozen meters apart. For a brief moment, silence reigned. After scanning the area with their senses stretched to the limit, they found nothing out of the ordinary.
"What is it?" Finch asked calmly, his tone sharp but controlled. The helix-shaped chain beneath his feet glimmered faintly, ready to launch him forward at any given moment.
"I can hear something... Itās faint, but itās there, a battle," Asher replied, his voice low and serious.
"What direction?" William asked without a trace of doubt. Even though he couldnāt hear what Asher heard, he trusted him implicitly.
Asher didnāt waste time responding. Instead, he leaned forward, and his body shot through the air like an arrow loosed from a divine bow. His figure blurred as he soared higher into the sky, following the distant rhythm of clashing metal and violent explosions that echoed faintly through the wind.
William and Finch exchanged quick glances before following behind him. As they gained altitude, the faint echoes Asher mentioned grew into unmistakable sounds, metallic clashes, shouts, and the thunderous blasts of elemental energy. Within minutes, they arrived above the source of the commotion. Floating high above, they now had a clear birdās-eye view of the battlefield below.
The three hovered side by side, their formation instinctive, Asher stood in the center, Finch to his right, and William to his left. From above, the scene was as clear as day. They didnāt need to ask what was happening. The signs were obvious.
Bandits.
Below them, nearly twenty of them clashed violently with a small group of seven mercenaries who appeared to be protecting two large carriages. The mercenariesā movements were strained and desperate; they were clearly outnumbered and losing ground fast. Even from above, Asher could tell they were on the verge of abandoning their employer entirely. It was written all over their movements, the hesitation, the fear, the hopelessness. They wanted to run, but the bandits werenāt about to let them escape so easily.
"So," Asher said after a brief silence, his tone casual, almost lazy, "do either of you want to save them?"
Finch and William both turned toward him with arched eyebrows.
"Arenāt you going to save them?" Finch asked evenly.
"Well..." Asher exhaled slowly, his eyes still focused below. "I donāt know yet. Iām still deciding whether itās worth bothering myself or not." He shrugged. "But if either of you want to, go ahead. Be my guest."
For a few seconds, the three of them simply hovered there in silence, watching the chaos unfold below. Then Finch finally spoke. "Then I will go."
Asher turned his head toward him, the corner of his lips lifting into a faint, knowing smile. "I didnāt expect you to step in. After all, nobles rarely trouble themselves with matters concerning commoners."
"Thatās true," Finch admitted without hesitation, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But you can see this as a way to assess my combat ability. Although there are twenty of them, Iām certain I can handle them all. Theyāre just a bunch of Faintstar Life Rankers. The strongest among them barely reaches the Dust Kindlestar Life Rank."
William smirked faintly from the side. "Good luck, then."
"Thereās no need," Finch replied coolly, returning the smirk.
Without wasting another breath, he shot forward like a bullet, his form slicing through the air. The helix-shaped black chain beneath his feet unraveled in a fluid motion, elongating and transforming into a normal chain that shimmered with deadly intent that knew no forgiveness.
With no hesitation, Finch hurled his chain forward with tremendous force. The black links whistled through the air and crashed into the head of one of the bandits with bone-shattering strength.
The banditās head exploded like a ripe watermelon. Blood, bone fragments, and various bits of brain matter splattered against the dirt below in a grotesque display. With a dull thud, the headless corpse collapsed to the ground.
"One down," Finch murmured calmly in a detached demeanor. He made no effort to hide his presence, nor did he attempt a surprise attack.
The battle below froze instantly. Both bandits and mercenaries turned toward the newcomer in shock. The mercenariesā eyes widened, relief flashing across their faces, they didnāt need anyone to tell them that this weirdly fat figure with a black chain was on their side.
"Weāve got an intruder on the scene!" one of the bandits shouted, his voice echoing across the battlefield.
But before the words could fully leave his mouth, his eyes widened in horror. A black blur entered his vision, a chain, flying like a viper lunging at its prey. In an instant, it wrapped around his neck and tightened with a violent snap.
The banditās hands shot up instinctively, grabbing the chain as he tried to pull it away. He gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead and hands as he attempted to drag Finch closer. But the chain didnāt budge an inch.
Finchās black eyes darted to the side. Four more bandits were closing in fast, surrounding him from the flanks. He moved without hesitation. With a sharp tug of his arm, the chain tightened, yanking the ensnared bandit toward him as though the man weighed nothing at all.
Before the others could react, Finch spun on his heel. Using the bound bandit as a weapon, he flung him in a brutal circular motion. The air howled under the pressure of the swing as the captured banditās body became a deadly projectile.
The body slammed into the four incoming bandits with devastating force. The impact was so fierce it tore through their torsos like a blade through wet paper. In a blur of crimson, blood and entrails exploded into the air. Shredded flesh and shattered bones rained down upon the ground.
The smell of blood instantly thickened the air, metallic and suffocating. The ground below was painted red, the carnage unfolding like a gruesome masterpiece born from violence.
"Thatās six," Finch muttered under his breath, his tone brisk and flat. But even as he spoke, he was already moving again, his eyes scanning the battlefield for the next threat.