The moon hung low, silver and heavy, over the lake. Its light poured across the water, fractured into a thousand dancing reflections.
Fireflies hovered, blinking in lazy, erratic patterns, weaving around the reeds and flickering against Gareth's tired eyes.
He scrubbed the back of his head with one hand, the other resting on his stomach, which growled in protest.
Hunger , thirst weighed on Gareth.
Exhaustion. He hadn't felt this tired in days—though none of it was pleasant.
"Perfect," he muttered to himself, lying back against a mossy rock.
"Thirsty, starving, surrounded by bugs. This is peak survival. Really, really!"
He sighed, letting the silence of the night wrap around him.
Sleep felt like salvation. Maybe just a little nap before he get's eaten alive by corrupted humans or from hunger.
And then—
Thump!
Something hit him square in the chest.
He shot upright, coughing, spitting out leaves and mud.
The figure sprawled at his feet—a girl. Blue hair tangled, drenched, and eyes wide with terror.
"WHAT—HELP!" she screamed.
From the shadows behind her came a guttural, broken human groan—the unmistakable shuffle of a corrupted human.
Its eyes milky, skin pale, movements jerky and unnatural. It lunged.
Gareth blinked. Rubbed his eyes. "Seriously? First a tree, now you? And I was sleeping."
The girl shrieked again, scrambling backward. "Please—help!"
Something clicked in his memory. Blue hair. That sharp glare. That insane energy.
The girl had attacked him once—at the academy, in his dorm, at night. He shivered at the memory.
"Of course," he muttered through gritted teeth, standing and dusting himself off. "You again. Can't a man sleep?"
The corrupted human lunged again.
Gareth's hand went to the hilt of his black-and-red sword, the blade humming faintly, absorbing moonlight like it belonged to the night itself.
One fluid motion—
Slash. The corrupted human split cleanly in two, stumbling and collapsing into the reeds. Silence followed.
Gareth wiped the blade with the edge of his sleeve, exhaling slowly.
He turned to the girl, his expression hovering between deadpan annoyance and slight panic.
"You… okay? Still breathing?"
The girl blinked, trembling. Tears streaked her cheeks. "Y-yes…"
She thought to herself , "Why did I end up here… of all places.
Why him. But it's perfect anyway, everything is under my plan?"
He narrowed his eyes, still holding the sword, half ready to roll his eyes, half still ready for another attack.
"Good. Stay behind me next time. Or… you know… don't fall on top of me." Gareth said mockingly.
Her lips quivered, trying to speak, but all that came out was another whimper. Gareth just shook his head.
"Seriously," he muttered. "What is it with you and your troubles keep falling into my life?"
Gareth lowered the sword slightly, though his grip didn't slacken. He squinted at her through the moonlight.
"Okay… first—why exactly are you way out here? Last I checked, the main group was supposed to be heading north until the end of this test. Not… getting eaten in the middle of nowhere."
The girl—Ariela, as she now introduced herself, though Gareth wasn't sure he fully believed her—gasped, clutching her knees as she tried to catch her breath.
"The… the whole group…" she stammered. "They… they were attacked. Barbarians.
Tanned… strong… they took everyone. I… I barely escaped."
Gareth's eyes narrowed.
"Barbarians? Like, actual savage types with… muscles the size of boulders? Or are we talking the polite 'oh, hello' kind of barbarians?"
Ariela's blue hair fell over her eyes, shaking her head.
"No… no, real barbarians. They—" Her voice faltered, and she shivered. "They're… nothing like the cadets.
"Everyone… they just… they were too strong. Too fast. Too… brutal."
Gareth pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, frustrated sigh.
"Of course. Great. So while I'm out here starving, thirsty, and trying to nap, the world is apparently getting eaten alive. And you're the lucky one who… fell on me."
Ariela flinched but nodded, still trembling. "I didn't… I couldn't—"
"You couldn't do what? Fight them all single-handedly?".
Gareth asked, deadpan, though his eyes scanned the tree's.
"Yeah, understandable. They sound like they could bench-press a boulder each."
Ariela managed a shaky laugh, and Gareth almost smirked.
"Alright… first things first, let's make sure you're actually alive and not bleeding out from fear.
Then we figure out what the hell just happened up north."
He tightened his grip on his sword and motioned toward the shadows of the Wildzone.
"Stay close. If those barbarians—or whatever else decides to visit tonight—show up, I'd rather not have your head decorating the reeds. Understood?"
Ariela nodded again, biting her lip. "I—I understand."
Gareth gave her a flat look. "Good. Now… explain exactly how the main group got captured by the savage, tanned people."
Ariela swallowed, her voice trembling but steadying.
"Your friends… they were worried about you. Especially… Cassiel, Janus, and Teramon. They ran off—went searching for you."
Gareth blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ran off? They just… went wandering into the Wildzone? Alone?"
She nodded. "Yes… and Kael… he… he's still… depressed. He—he didn't even move from the spot after the attack."
Gareth exhaled sharply, a mix of frustration and something sharper gnawing at him.
"Of course. Cassiel and the others storm off like they're on some heroic quest, Kael sulks in one spot… and me? I get left with a crying blue-haired stranger falling into my lap at midnight. Fantastic."
Ariela flinched at his words but managed a small, nervous laugh. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
Gareth held up a hand, cutting her off. "Relax. I'm not mad… just… annoyed. Very annoyed. And starving. But mostly annoyed."
He gave her a quick, appraising glance.
"Alright… let's make sure you're safe.
Then we figure out how to get the rest of my friends back… without them getting eaten or, worse, crying over me while I nap again."
Ariela's eyes widened slightly at his mix of humor and edge, and Gareth smirked faintly—half amused, half exasperated.
"Come on. Step lightly. If the barbarians—or whatever else this place is hiding—think I'm easy prey, they've got another thing coming."
Gareth relaxed slightly, letting the tension in his shoulders ease. "Hey… uh… do you happen to have any food on you?" he asked, his voice softer now, more natural.
Ariela nodded quickly, digging into her satchel. She handed him a small piece of bread and a vial of water.
"I… I had some leftover. I figured… you might need it."
Gareth's eyes lit up. He took the bread and water, biting into it hungrily.
"Wow… you are a lifesaver," he said, his lips curling into a genuine smile.
He tilted his head at her, playful but sincere.
"Really. I owe you one… or maybe two. Or ten, depending on how this night goes."
Ariela gave a small, relieved laugh. "I didn't do it for that… I just—didn't want to die."
He laughed softly, shaking his head.
"Fair enough. That works too." He took another sip of water, then glanced toward the path ahead.
"Alright… let's get moving. We need to figure out where the whole group went… and how these barbarians operate. I have a feeling this night isn't over yet."
Gareth trudged forward, the piece of bread in his stomach slowly easing his hunger.
Ariela kept pace beside him, her eyes alert, ears catching even the faintest sounds.
Hours passed—five long ones—through uneven terrain and thick brush, the Wild Zone never letting them forget it was alive.
Then, in the distance, a massive silhouette rose against the night sky. Gareth stopped dead in his tracks.
"Is… is that a mountain?" he muttered, shading his eyes.
The moonlight revealed its jagged peaks, dark and imposing, stretching higher than any he'd seen before.
Ariela nodded, her own gaze steady. "Yep… that's the western ridge. Beyond it… there's something… you'll see soon enough."
As they crested a ridge, a warm glow spilled across the horizon.
Lanterns. Hundreds of them, swaying gently in the wind.
And then, the city revealed itself—massive, sprawling, unlike anything Gareth had ever imagined.
Tanned-skinned people moved through wide streets, their muscles glinting under the lantern light, carrying goods, tending fires, sharpening weapons.
The scent of smoked meat, sweat, and something wild—almost electric—hung in the air.
Gareth's jaw dropped. "Wait… wait… they never… they never taught us about this in school," he said, voice tight with disbelief.
"An entire… city… inside the Wild Zone?"
Ariela glanced at him, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips.
"Yeah… it's… been here for as long as anyone can remember. The barbarians of the west… we call them the Westward Tribes. Strong, isolated, and… not fond of outsiders."
Gareth swallowed, his eyes tracing the towering walls, the winding streets, the sheer diversity of the people and their culture.
"This… this is insane. I thought the Wild Zone was just… trees and monsters. I had no idea…"
He shook his head, taking it all in.
"They're… they're organized. And… their culture… it's alive. Real. Rich. Different. And huge…"
Ariela nodded, her gaze scanning the crowd warily.
"We'll need to be careful. They don't take kindly to strangers… but at least we're here now. We can figure out how to get your friends back."
Gareth let out a slow breath, his pulse racing from shock and awe.
"Ariela… this… this changes everything we and the kingdom knew about the Wild Zone."
The lanterns flickered across their faces, the city alive beneath them, a heartbeat of civilization thriving in the heart of chaos.
In the background a faint laugh and rustling in the bushes can be heard.
Gareth and Ariela were still staring in awe at the sprawling city when a sudden forced soft roar is heard behind them.
It made both of them jump.
Gareth spun around, hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his black-and-red sword.
"Who—?" he started, but stopped short.
A teenage girl stepped from the shadows, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
She let out a laugh—first soft, then growing louder, echoing through the streets until it became a ringing, unstoppable cascade of laughter.
Gareth and Ariela exchanged startled glances.
"You should have seen your faces!" she finally gasped between laughs.
"Oh, I love scaring newcomers!"
Gareth blinked, still wary. "Who… who are you?"
The girl straightened, folding her arms, and a sly grin spread across her face.
"I'm Fortessia," she said, her tone playful but proud. "Fortessia Valten — and yes, my father is the Lord of All Five Districts."
She let the words hang, as if expecting them to tremble.
"Some call him the Supreme Warlord of the Westward Tribes… but I just call him Dad."
Ariela raised an eyebrow, whispering, "Lord of all districts? Here?"
Fortessia's grin widened.
"Yup. He rules with strength, and everyone knows it. Even I've been trained to match him… someday, maybe, I'll be almost as fearsome."
She tilted her head toward Gareth. "And you… are you the one they call… Gareth?"
Gareth tensed, gripping his sword a little tighter, the flickering lanterns reflecting off the black-and-red steel.
"That's… me," he muttered cautiously.
Fortessia laughed again, more softly this time, a teasing glint in her eyes.
"Good. Now you know I know. Welcome to my home… and my father's fourth territory too it's in the west."