The hour ticked away far too quickly.
Rather than wasting it in silence, Leo, Mira, and Aric moved through the camp, searching for anyone who didn't look broken. Most teams were tired—exhausted, really—but not all of them were hopeless.
Toward the far end of the gathering zone, they found a small group that stood a little straighter than the others. One of the figures leaned against a stone wall, arms crossed, a lazy confidence in his stance.
Leo slowed, eyes narrowing. Something about him felt familiar—brown hair cropped short, athletic build, sharp eyebrows always slightly raised like the world amused him.
Then it clicked.
"Eli?"
The guy looked up, surprised. Then he grinned wide. "Leo? Holy hell—you too?!"
Leo walked forward, stunned. "You're alive?"
Eli chuckled. "Barely. The first floor was a nightmare, but I've scraped by. You… you look like you're thriving."
Leo scratched the back of his neck. "I got lucky."
Mira gave him a sidelong glance but said nothing.
Eli's team wasn't large—just three others—but they looked alert, bruised but balanced. Another team nearby, an all-girl trio wielding matching curved swords, gave a nod when Aric approached. Silent acknowledgment. They weren't elite—but they weren't dead weight.
After regrouping, Mira pulled the others aside. "We're not doing anything complicated. Too many weak links. If we try to form a rotating defense pattern, it'll collapse as soon as one group breaks."
"Then what?" Leo asked.
"Simple structure. Two flanks, one on each side of the bridge. Those with any combat awareness take the outer positions."
"I'll anchor the center," Mira said. "That's where the pressure will hit hardest."
Leo and Aric shared a glance.
"I'll watch the left side," Aric said.
Leo nodded. "I'll take the right."
Mira looked between them, then nodded once. "Good. And Leo—keep an eye on the ones closest to you. If they start to break, don't try to save everyone. Just buy time."
Leo didn't respond immediately.
But he understood.
This wasn't about saving everyone.
It was about holding long enough.
As the last few minutes ticked away, the assembled teams formed a rough line, crowding toward the staging point. Wards glowed beneath their feet. The ground trembled faintly.
Then the voice returned—calm, absolute.
"Trial Commencing. Hold the bridge."
A flash of light swallowed the camp.
They emerged into chaos.
The battlefield was bleak and jagged—two cliffs separated by a massive stone bridge suspended over a seemingly bottomless chasm. Winds howled from below, carrying faint screams that might've been echoes… or something worse.
Ahead of them, on the far side of the bridge, a swirling storm brewed at the horizon's edge—black clouds and pulsing red mist churning ominously.
Leo tightened his grip on his spear.
The bridge stretched wide enough for twenty people to fight shoulder to shoulder—but it still felt too narrow. There was nowhere to run. No flanks. No fallback. Just forward—or down.
Mira strode to the center of the line, planting her feet with the solid certainty of someone who knew they'd stand or die right there.
Aric moved to the left, hands already glistening with condensed water.
Leo took the right, spear lowered, breath steady.
The wind howled across the stone bridge, cold and sharp like a warning.
For a few long minutes, nothing happened. Just the low roar of the chasm below and the ever-thickening haze on the far side. Leo adjusted his grip on his spear again, his palms slick despite the cold.
Then—movement.
Shadows took shape within the mist.
Small at first. Fast. Skittering.
"Kobolds," Aric called from the left. His voice was calm, but his body was already shifting into stance. "And goblins. Low-tier monsters."
Sure enough, the first figures emerged in uneven lines—short, wiry creatures with dull eyes and rusted blades. Some had crude shields. Others held barbed spears or slings. The kobolds were hunched and scaled, dog-like in posture. The goblins came in twitchy bursts, eyes wild and teeth bared.
Leo narrowed his eyes. "They're nothing compared to the orcs."
"Individually? No," Mira replied, standing in the center like a statue of wrath waiting to wake. "But don't let that fool you."
More appeared behind the first wave.
Dozens.
Then hundreds.
"They're mass testing us," Aric said. "Culling by attrition."
Leo could feel it now—the rhythm of the Tower shifting. This wasn't a quick trial. This was a grind. A siege. They weren't expected to win.
They were expected to endure.
As the swarm crept forward, the tension along the defensive line tightened like a drawn bowstring. Newer initiates muttered prayers under their breath. A few adjusted their stances nervously, barely able to hide the tremor in their hands.
Leo took a breath and stilled his heart.
He could feel the spear's pulse in his hands.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Then—
SNAP.
A signal flared from the far side of the chasm—a pulse of red light, sharp and sudden like a breaking bone.
The front lines of kobolds and goblins shrieked in unison and charged.
The bridge trembled beneath the storm of feet.
And the battle began.