As she ran through the forest, her legs moving so fast it looked like they weren't touching the ground.

  Regardless, Layla was still sensitive about her surroundings, proceeding with caution.

  And after thinking hard, she finally recalled who the red haired lady was.

  Her name was Morgan.

  An International assassin with over 150 confirmed kills. She had broken into Astrovia's most impenetrable Maximum security prison and escaped before.

  Her name appeared in almost every list of highly wanted criminals Layla had ever seen, but no one had managed to bring her in. Now here she was, in the flesh.

  If Morgan was among the contestants, then this wasn’t just a hunt. Layla’s fingers curled tightly into fists as she ran.

  This was a massacre waiting to happen.

  Back before the chase began, Lian had quietly handed each of them a necklace engraved with a temporary resistance seal.

  They didn’t question it then, but now Layla was grateful. Without it, the barrier sealing their abilities would’ve left her blind and vulnerable. Now, her mana control was back to full throttle.

  Still, she felt something was off.

  Suddenly, her body stiffened as a chill ran down her spine like freshly melted ice water. She stumbled slightly, her eyes widening as she recognized the energy she was feeling.

  "This presence..." She muttered in disbelief.

  It was the same feeling she got from Levi the first time she saw him.

  Except this time, it wasn’t dormant like before. And what she was feeling wasn't just a warning from her instincts. What she was feeling this time was the actual energy.

  Whatever he had inside him had awaken.

  Her stomach twisted. "That boy… What exactly is he?"

  Just when she thought she had found her footing in this madness, another monster made its move.

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  "What the hell is happening?"

  The warning from her senses came an instant before the strike just enough.

  She ducked sharply, a glowing blade slicing past the air where her neck had been a moment ago.

  She leaped turning around to face behind her, and sliding into a clearing.

  A woman emerged from the treeline where she was now facing with a calm expression.

  She was one of them. The woman wearing a black gown with a thigh high slit and shades. In her right hand was a massive Buster Sword. The kind with a size that should require two men to lift.

  It had a blue light coating it and making it look like a plasma sword.

  “Impressive,” the woman said, voice low, “I made that as silent as possible… yet here you are, not even a scratch.”

  Layla’s breath fogged in the air as she straightened, and another voice came from her right.

  “I knew all that talk Cain gave earlier was just bullshit” it said, lazy and amused.

  Morgan stepped out slowly, with one hand in her pocket, and her red hair tied backwards in a bun.

  Her gaze matched with Layla’s, and a slight smirk formed on her face.

  “Bluey here’s no joke.” Morgan said, referring to Layla by her hair color.

  Layla’s eyes darted between the two and the trap became clear now. The students weren't their main targets. The teachers were.

  “So that’s what this is…” she said, sighing heavily. “Target the hunters before they become a problem?”

  She smiled thinly. “But don’t you think two against one is a little unfair?”

  Her eyes narrowed on Morgan. "You alone should be enough.”

  Morgan chuckled. “So you do recognize me. I was starting to worry I wasn’t infamous enough.”

  She gave an exaggerated sigh and scratched her neck. “I’d love to take you one-on-one, but… Nyx here’s also got a little obsession with strong women. I didn’t want to ruin her fun.”

  Layla rolled her shoulders and cracked her knuckles. “Fine then. I don’t really care how many of you there are.”

  She smiled, baring her teeth. “I’ve been looking for something to take my frustration out on.”

  Nyx’s lips curled as she stepped forward, driving her enormous blade into the ground. She rolled her neck slowly, joints popping one by one.

  “I like you,” she said, her voice deep. “You better not be all bark.”

  In an instant, they all vanished.

  The three women clashed, sending waves flying in all directions, uprooting weak plants and releasing a dust cloud. All from the sheer force of their collision.

  Layla ducked low, just in time, as Nyx swung her blade in a wide arc.

  It seemed like an effortless move, and yet it sent a violent wave of slashing energy that tore through the forest behind them. Splitting the trees like vegetables being slashed on a chopping board.

  But Layla didn’t flinch. Her eyes were fixated on Nyx and her guard was still up in case Morgan tried to attack again. She noticed no movement and looked back only to see Morgan standing mid-motion.

  Her left arm was gone from the elbow down, the rest of it spraying blood in a wild arc before hitting the ground.

  But she didn't look like she was in pain. Infact, she looked more like it was a minor inconvenience she was used to.

  “Watch how you swing that thing, bitch!” Morgan snapped, eyes glowing a violent red.

  She didn't even look at the severed arm. Already, her muscles twitched, flesh bubbling, bones stretching out.

  In seconds, a new arm snapped into place, as if it had always been there. She flexed it once, cracking her knuckles with a wicked grin.

  She was a True Blood, a rare class of Blood Demons that stood above common blood servants in the supernatural hierarchy.

  While blood servants possessed only enhanced physical abilities and the hunger to strengthen them through feeding, True Bloods were something else entirely.

  In addition to the other enhancements each possessed a singular gift which was either control over blood itself, or impossibly rapid regeneration.

  Morgan had the latter. But even that power wasn’t without cost. The speed of her regeneration depended heavily on her stamina.

  Couple this with her reactions and speed that were on par with light itself, and strength enough to rend a boulder the size of the earth if she wanted to, no average Sentinel could take her on, but Layla now had to face her and Nyx who was almost on par with Morgan.

  Despite the snide remarks, all three were still focused on each other.

  This wasn’t going to be a mere average drawn-out clash of brute strength. They were each ranked 2B at the very least, and even in this warm-up, their movements had already showcased an impressive degree of physical capabilities.

  Layla, standing at the side, let out a tired breath, brushing her blue hair from her face as the wind stirred the fading dust clouds and leaves around them.

  “This whole thing better take away my bad luck for the next fifty years."