The commands are crisp, cutting through the murmurs. I step back just as the reinforced container groans, cracks, and collapses in on itself.
The manananggal steps out, its dark aura spreading across the field as it hisses ominously.
I let out a slow breath, the cold making it mist.
The manananggal’s hiss rattles the air like nails dragged across glass. The stench is immediate, rot layered over old blood, thick enough to taste. Magic clings to it, foul and oily, sinking into my skin and making the hair on my arms rise. I fight the urge to retch and keep my expression still.
“Stay ready…” I murmur.
It lunges at us with a violence that makes us all scatter, its knife-like claws slicing the air, searching for flesh. The witchesmove in formation, voices low and urgent as they begin chanting spells. Fire arcs in wide sweeps, walls of stone slam upward, and wind lashes like invisible whips, but the creature doesn’t slow.
“We can’t kill it from here!” someone yells.
“Keep it back! Strike from under him, use the ground!” I call out.
My hand goes to the band I have tied around my thigh as a bandage. The moment I untie it, runes sizzle to life, glowing, dazzling orange across the length. Steel blooms from nowhere as I whisper the release spell. A few around me gasp in surprise as weapons appear around me. I allow myself the faintest smile as I grab hold of two of the large daggers. I never walk into battle unarmed. I just prefer that they stay hidden until I need them.
I drop to one knee and press my palm to the ground. The earth listens. My eyes flare orange as blades slip silently beneath the soil, moving unseen toward their prey, carried by the soil.
A scream tears through the noise.
I snap my head up. The same first year from earlier has ignored my orders and is charging forward.
“No!” I shout. My hair whips in my face as I turn, but the manananggal is faster, snatching her with sickening speed, its claws piercing deep.
Heat floods my vision. The spell leaves my lips before I’ve finished the thought, and brilliant green light flashes around me. A razor-edged wave of magic slices through the air, severing its arm. The girl falls, dragged to safety by another witch, while the arm reattaches to the monster’s body with a wet, crawling sound.
“What?! How?!” someone shouts.
“Keep focused,” I command. “Harilla, Jareena, heal her! Four of you, shield them.”
Flames hammer into the manannggal’s chest again and again as the six witches obey my command.
She’ll live even if she’s injured.
It roars, thrashing, its fury breaking the air into shreds. I’m almost there…
I whisper the spell, focusing everything I have as I push more power into it. The ground quakes as roots erupt upward, wrapping around them, my power creating a barrier around the branches so they don’t catch fire.
“Good. Keep it busy,” I shout as I rush to the left. “I’m going behind.”
I stay low, aura drawn tight so it won’t notice me. The branches are destroyed as it breaks free and charges at the others. I rush forward, guiding the buried daggers beneath its shadow.
One breath.
One heartbeat.
One of the blades erupts from the ground, spearing between its legs and carving upward through bone and rotting flesh. The scream it makes is not of this world; it jars through me, making my teeth ache. The manananggal splits, spraying dark, putrid blood that coats my skin and the surroundings as the two parts of its body crash to the ground. The stench is enough to make my stomach twist.
I flip back, landing lightly on my feet. Its body collapses into two pieces. The sight is one worse than a horror movie. The air is still again, but my heart is not.
I whisper a spell, cleaning away the blood as my team cheers and our barrier comes down. I glance over at Liremai’s dome shield, which is still intact, satisfied that their manananggal is still very much alive.
“Well done, Team Sapphire. Excellent leadership skills, Aldona,” Sister Hesta says, clapping with approval as the other teachers also nod.
They were here in case something went wrong…
“You were incredible,” one of the girls says.
