Dawn broke over the cliffs of Rose Gold University, casting a pale light over the throng of 2,000 applicants crammed before the Gates of Echoes. Kael stood among them, his stolen dagger strapped to his thigh, the recommendation letter from General Garrick a hidden weight in his pocket. Around him, nobles preened in polished armor, peasants clutched rusted blades, and merchants' sons adjusted essence-powered trinkets. Weakness festered here—arrogance, naivety, false bravado. Prey.
A horn blared. The gates shuddered open, revealing a cavernous tunnel lined with glowing runes. A hologram of the university's chancellor—a skeletal figure with a Terror-core orb floating above his palm—boomed: "First Trial: The Gauntlet. Survive the Shattered Labyrinth. First 500 to reach the exit advance."
The mob surged forward. Kael hung back, observing. The tunnel split into three paths:
Left: A narrow corridor shimmering with frost.
Center: A bridge over a chasm of molten essence.
Right: A twisting maze of mirrors reflecting distorted shadows.
Kael's Choice:
He veered right, slipping into the mirror maze. Reflections taunted him—a younger self, begging in the slums; a future self, clad in noble finery. He shattered a mirror with his dagger. "Illusions. Pathetic."
Scene 3: The Rotfang Ambush
The maze spat him into a cavern swarming with Rotfang Hyena holograms—muscle-exposed mutants with rotating teeth-rings. A noble boy in gilded armor screamed as a hyena tore into his leg.
Used shattered glass as caltrops to cripple hyenas.
Stole a fallen applicant's Monster-core dagger, channeling essence to ignite its rune.
Lured hyenas into a collapsing mirror trap, sealing the path behind him.
Power System Demonstration:
Body Rank: Kael's Enlightened reflexes (7.5x baseline) let him dodge hyena swipes.
Core Rank: His Beast-core (absorbed earlier) allowed brief essence bursts, enhancing speed.
Weakness: Overusing the core left him dizzy, veins burning black.
The Gauntlet ended at a circular arena—the Crucible. A hologram of a Saint-rank warrior materialized, wielding a sword of pure light.
Kael's Trial:
The hologram attacked with blinding speed. Kael memorized its patterns:
Strike 1: Overhead slash (dodge left).
Strike 2: Horizontal sweep (duck).
Strike 3: Thrust (parry with dagger).
After ten strikes, the hologram paused, its core flickering. Kael lunged, plunging his dagger into its chest. The hologram dissolved, leaving a Beast-core shard.
Chancellor's Voice: "Efficiency: 89%. Ruthlessness: 97%. Proceed."
The final test was a pitch-black chamber. A mirror materialized, showing Kael as a noble lord, lounging in a palace while slum children starved.
Psychological Warfare:
The mirror whispered: "Is this your ambition? To become what you hate?"
Kael smashed it. "I'll never be them."
Survivors gathered in a crystal-lit hall. A hologram leaderboard flared to life:
RankNameBody RankCore RankSorcery Tier1Darian FrostspireMasterMonsterTier 320Tristan HawksworthEnlightenedAbominationTier 227Kael VeyneEnlightenedBeastTier 1499Jorin ClayDormantNoneNone
Kael's lips twitched. 27th. Not weak. Not yet strong.
A hand clapped Kael's shoulder. He spun, dagger half-drawn, to face a grinning young man with tousled golden hair, sea-green eyes, and a jawline that looked carved by elven artisans. Tristan Hawksworth, ranked 20th, leaned against a pillar, his leather armor artfully disheveled.
"Relax, gutter rat," Tristan drawled, tossing an apple core over his shoulder. "Just admiring your work. You butchered those hyenas like a starving wolf. Brutal. I like it."
Kael eyed him. "What do you want?"
"Friendship! Adventure! Maybe a shared bed if you're pretty under that grime." Tristan winked. When Kael didn't react, he sighed. "Fine. Let's trade. I'll teach you how to charm the pants off noble girls, and you teach me how to fight like a feral animal."
Son of Sir Cedric Hawksworth, a Master-rank knight serving House Frostspire.
Abomination-core: Absorbed at 16, granting him enhanced agility and minor regeneration.
Reputation: A rake who's bedded half the noble daughters in Lockstar.
Kael scoffed. "I don't need friends."
Tristan flicked a Solar Mark into the air. "You need allies. Darian Frostspire's already marked you as competition. Me? I'm just here to survive and savor the… pleasures of life."
As Kael left the hall, a letter materialized in his pocket—a single sentence:
"Report to Barracks 7 at dawn. —G. Ironvein"
Tristan lingered, watching Kael vanish into the crowd. A noble girl with ruby curls approached, batting her lashes. "Tristan, darling! Did you see my rank? I'm 45th!"
He kissed her hand, his smile practiced. "A crime, my lady. You belong at the top."
But his gaze drifted back to the leaderboard. Kael Veyne. A nobody with a Beast-core, outranking legacy nobles. Tristan's grin sharpened. This year just got interesting.
Dawn approached. In the academy's shadowed barracks, General Garrick Ironvein reviewed Kael's trial footage, a dozen other "investments" flickering on screens behind him. In the dorms, Kael sharpened his dagger, the Storm Leviathan's roar echoing from the coast. And in a candlelit tavern, Tristan regaled a crowd of starry-eyed students with embellished tales of his Gauntlet heroics—omitting how closely he'd watched the gutter rat climb.