Chapter 31: Simulation Exam (2)
The world around them blurred and shifted like a bad dream snapping into focus, the teleportation circle's glow fading fast to leave them standing on cracked, gray soil that crunched under their boots. The air hit heavy right away—thick and wrong, like breathing through wet cloth, carrying a sour tang of old smoke and something rotten underneath. The light from the circle winked out behind them, and the simulation locked in: a twisted wasteland stretching out forever under a sky the color of fresh blood, low and angry, clouds hanging thick like bruises that wouldn't heal.
Dead trees stuck up from the ground like broken bones, branches bare and black, reaching out with no leaves to soften the look. The dirt was ash-gray, dry and cracked in spots deep enough to hide a hand, and faint wisps of red mist curled low over it all, glowing dull like dying embers. No birds called, no wind rustled— just that quiet hum of mana gone bad, buzzing in your ears like flies too close. It was the kind of place that made your skin crawl without you knowing why, like the land itself remembered hurt and wouldn't let it go.
Lucian Azrael Von Blackstar stood steady as the ground finished settling, his ashen-white hair moving light in the still air, his deep black eyes taking it all in slow—calm, like he'd seen worse mornings. The mana breeze from the dome back in the hall was gone now; this felt realer, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones even when the sun's up. He rolled his shoulders once, feeling the weight of his uniform settle, the gold trim catching faint red from the sky.
'We were sent to the worst place possible… the Forbidden Lands,' he thought, that old knot tightening in his gut.
He shut his eyes for a quick second, letting the familiar dread wash over him like a wave you know is coming but can't dodge. 'The Forbidden Lands—this is where the Dark Mages and the Evil Gods Cult first rose. The birthplace of chaos in the first game.'
He breathed out slow through his nose, opening his eyes to scan the flat, empty horizon where the red fog hung thickest, hiding whatever waited out there. 'For a second, I thought this was the Barren Lands of Paradisia Island, where the second series of the game happens. That place was home to the Demon God Cult…'
His mind wandered as he took a step forward, boots sinking a bit into the loose ash. 'The Demon God Cult—the most neutral cult I've ever seen in any game. When I was still on Earth, I really thought they'd be the villains of the sequel. But no—they just appeared briefly, added some tension, and then got completely scrapped by the developers. They didn't even have a proper ending. Just side characters tossed away like filler content.'
A small smirk tugged at his mouth, dry and quick. 'Haah, as expected from those lazy devs. The Chronicles of Eden's War: Crimson Fate series was a total gooner game. Same level of absurdity as Azur Lane and Browndust2.'
He shook his head light, pulling himself back to the dirt under his feet. 'Still, this version of the exam is completely different. In both my second life and the original game's timeline, the Simulation Exam was just held in a forest near the academy. Not… here. Looks like Celestia being a regressor changed more than I thought.'
Next to him, Christopher groaned low, scratching the back of his head with one hand while wiping sweat from his brow with the other, even though the run hadn't started yet. "Seriously, we got thrown into this hellhole? I know it's a simulation, but this is torture, man. Smells like old fire and bad decisions. How are we supposed to find a core in this mess?"
Celestia nodded faint from his other side, brushing a strand of her white-silk hair from her face where it stuck in the damp air. "It might be because we're considered the strongest in Class A," she said, her tone even but with a little edge of annoyed, like she was figuring it out as she said it. "They always throw the top groups into the hard spots first—test if you can handle it without breaking."
Christopher blinked, then let out a huff, rolling his eyes. "What?! Yeah, that might be the reason—but seriously, Princess, why'd you even join Class A? As far as I remember, you were supposed to be in Class S, right? The big leagues with all the fancy types."
The air went still fast, like someone flipped a switch. Celestia's gray eyes narrowed, a quick flash of light in them like mana sparking, and that invisible push came down on Christopher's shoulders—heavy, cold, making him feel like the ground tilted a bit.
"Forget I asked! Sorry, Princess!" he yelped, throwing both hands up quick in surrender, face going red as he backed off a step. "My bad—won't happen again!"
Lucian sighed quiet inside, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 'Haah… this is going to be a long ride.'
He turned toward the horizon where the red fog sat thickest, like a wall hiding whatever the exam had waiting. In that mist, he knew the enemies would pop up—fake beasts twisted by bad mana, rogue dark mages throwing curses, all made by the simulation's tricks to feel real. But something about the air nagged at him, that sour taste in the back of his throat, the way the ground felt too solid under his boots.
Christopher rubbed his neck, still looking sheepish. "Man, you weren't kidding about the jealousy thing. Note to self: don't poke the princess."
Celestia let out a small breath, the pressure easing off like she'd pulled it back. "It's fine," she said soft, but her eyes flicked to Lucian quick, like checking if he was okay. "Just... be careful what you say. We're a team now."
"Yeah, yeah," Chris muttered, but he grinned a bit, bumping Lucian's arm light. "Got it, boss. Lead the way, Lucian—you're the one who picked this mess."
Lucian gave a small nod, starting forward into the wasteland, the ash crunching soft under his steps. The red sky pressed down low, making the world feel smaller, closed in, and the mist ahead swirled like it was alive, waiting to cough up trouble. He could feel Celestia's mana next to him—warm and bright, like sunlight on skin—and Chris's steady pull, solid as a rock. It was a good team on paper: magic for range, strength for close, and him for... whatever he brought this time.
But as they walked, that nagging feeling grew—the corruption in the air didn't feel fake, not all the way. It clung to his skin like smoke from a real fire, buzzing wrong against his mana core. 'The Forbidden Lands… a place where the living are reminded what death truly means.'
He clenched his fist light, feeling the mana pulse in his veins like a second heartbeat—ready, but not rushing. 'Well then, let's get this over with.'
The mist closed in slow, the ground sloping down into thicker fog, and the first low growl came from somewhere deep—fake or not, the exam was starting, and fate wasn't pulling punches today.