The Ironveil Federation's examination field thrummed with energy as the gates to the rift began to stir. Silver-blue runes glowed faintly across the massive stone arch, their hum deepening until the vibration seemed to crawl beneath the skin.
Hundreds of young aspirants stood ready. Some whispered in nervous excitement, others stood silently, eyes narrowed in determination. The faint metallic tang of transcendent energy lingered in the air, heavy and sharp like the calm before a storm.
A tall instructor, clad in a black uniform traced with silver sigils, stepped onto the platform. His sharp eyes swept across the gathered crowd before his voice boomed — steady, authoritative, and impossible to ignore.
"The first test will be a month-long survival trial inside a Federation-designated Rift Zone. You will be tested not just on strength, but on your ability to survive, adapt, and endure."
The murmurs ceased. Every gaze turned toward him, rapt.
"Inside, every beast will carry a ring clipped to its ear," the instructor continued. "Your goal is simple — collect as many as you can. The rings come in six colors, each worth a different number of points."
He raised a gloved hand, and six glowing projections shimmered to life above him — white, red, green, orange, purple, and black.
"White: 1 point. Red: 5 points. Green: 10 points. Orange: 15 points. Purple: 20 points."
He paused, his gaze hardening slightly before finishing.
"And the black ring — 100 points. There's only one beast carrying it, a variant at the peak of Level 10, already half a step into the next stage. Defeat it if you dare."
A collective murmur rippled through the participants. Even the boldest faces faltered at the thought.
"To pass," the instructor said evenly, "you must collect rings worth at least 500 points. But be warned — you are not the only hunters in there. Rings can be taken from others, and that is perfectly within the rules."
His words hung in the air like a blade.
Then, his tone grew even sharper.
"This exam will also be monitored by representatives from the academies of various cities — and even a representative from the Royal Academy itself. A poor showing, any display of cowardice, or reckless conduct may result in immediate disqualification."
The crowd stiffened. Several candidates exchanged wide-eyed glances. The Royal Academy was a name whispered with awe — a place said to train only those destined to touch the pinnacle of power.
"However," the instructor continued, his voice softening just enough to reignite the spark in their hearts, "if you prove yourself exceptional, there is also the chance to be scouted directly by the Royal Academy's representative."
A hush fell. For a moment, all that could be heard was the steady hum of the rift and the faint rustle of wind. Stephen's pulse quickened slightly, though his expression remained calm. To think that even the Royal Academy would be watching this trial — the stakes had risen more than anyone expected.
"You'll be issued new bracelets," the instructor went on. "These will record only your points and display the leaderboard. They also contain an SOS function — if you trigger it, an instructor will come to your aid immediately."
He paused, then added coldly,
"But understand this — activating it means instant forfeit. Your test ends the moment the signal is sent."
A few uneasy shuffles went through the crowd.
"Although this rift has been cleared multiple times, unforeseen dangers may still exist. Certain regions could block our monitoring spells and delay rescue. So, exercise caution. Remember—survival takes precedence over pride."
The ground beneath them trembled slightly as the portal's energy intensified. The swirling lights turned a deep violet, and the air grew colder, sharper.
"Enter in sequence," the instructor commanded. "Once inside, you'll be scattered randomly throughout the outer sector. The trial begins the moment you cross through."
One by one, the examinees stepped forward. Some murmured quiet encouragements, others adjusted their weapons or checked their gear.
When Stephen's turn came, he took a steady breath and stepped forward. His sword rested lightly against his back; his heartbeat was calm yet strong. Inside his soul sea, the blue sprout pulsed faintly, glowing in tune with his breath. Deep within, unseen, the Azure Sparrow stirred its wings once, silent and resolute.
"A month of survival," Stephen murmured quietly. "Let's see how far I can go."
The world distorted as he crossed through the portal — light twisting, sound fading into a low hum — and then, with a sudden flash, everything settled.
He stood in a dense forest. The scent of damp moss filled the air, and sunlight barely filtered through the thick canopy. Faint roars echoed in the distance.
The bracelet on his wrist blinked once:
[Points: 0][Leaderboard: Active]
Stephen tightened his grip on his sword. The air felt heavier here — primal, wild, alive.
He took one slow step forward, then another, letting instinct guide him. His father's words whispered in his mind:
"A true hunter doesn't just survive the wild — he listens to it."
And so, Stephen listened.
The forest was restless. And somewhere deep within, the first beast roared.