Black lightning leapt from one mountain ape to another, moving like a living shadow. Kale darted through the battlefield—swift, violent, unstoppable.
A thunderous crack split the air as a bolt of black lightning struck a massive ape over two meters tall. The creature howled in agony, its muscles convulsing as it tried to grasp the lightning itself, only to sear its own flesh.
When the light finally died down, the black lightning condensed into a humanoid shape—pitch-black and featureless. The surface of its "skin" cracked like obsidian, and within the fractures, a pair of eyes began to glow faintly.
The figure turned toward the ravine where Julien had once stood, only to find him and his horde long gone.
Crack... crack.
The black shell shattered, scattering like broken glass. From within stumbled Kale, his jet-black hair clinging to sweat and dirt. His face was hollow, his eyes dull from exhaustion, his breathing ragged—like a man who hadn't eaten in days.
'At least…'
"Ugh—URGH!"
He vomited, collapsing over the corpse of a mountain ape. His entire body trembled from fatigue. Around him lay at least seven of the creatures, their massive bodies mangled and burnt, blood and organs strewn across the jungle floor.
Each corpse bore a clean puncture wound at a vital point. And though they were charred, the faint scent of roasted meat hung in the air—masked only by the thick, metallic stench of blood.
Kale staggered to his feet, searching for clues. He barely managed three steps before collapsing again, retching uncontrollably.
"Ugh… gaghh… ARHH!"
But what came out of his mouth wasn't bile. Instead, small, tar-like black spheres splattered to the ground—wet and pulsing. From within each sphere, thin black threads slithered upward… toward him.
Or rather, toward something above him.
'No… not now…!'
His eyes widened in horror. He'd seen this once before—long ago—and had sworn it would never happen again.
Everything was fine, just like always — but today was different…He jolted in surprise, not knowing why it felt that way.
But that didn't matter now.What mattered was figuring out how to stop it…
A massive black hand descended from the sky. Its fingers twitched, curling until only one remained extended, reaching for the threads.
"D-d…!"
Kale tried to scream, but no sound came out. His body refused to move, his mana nearly depleted. He wanted to cancel his Gift—but even that was beyond him now, the fear took hold of him..
Only two choices remained: let his mana drain completely and face near-certain death… or let that thing touch the threads.
He couldn't even shout "I forfeit" to give up. His throat was too dry, his strength gone. In mere seconds, that black fingertip would reach him.
The last time this happened—it had changed everything.
'No… I won't let it… not again!'
Desperation surged. Kale slammed his head down against a fallen ape's claw, hoping the pain would register as a loss.
Whizz—
Something small struck his temple. A pebble. It didn't hurt enough to knock him out—but it made his head turn sharply.
Through his fading vision, he saw a dark silhouette standing before him.
"Sleep," the man said softly. "I'll handle the rest… phhh~"
Kale's fear was the last thing reflected in his eyes before he fell unconscious.
The shadowed figure—Marcus—let out a quiet sigh. His expression hardened as he glanced at the black hand now absorbing the stray threads of darkness.
Lowering his hood, Marcus revealed his snow-white hair and steel-gray eyes.
He'd been sent by Ron, instructed to ensure this exact event occurred—one way or another. Ron hadn't explained why, only that it had to happen.
'Chaos, rebellion, resentment… they'll destroy themselves,' Ron had said. 'All we need is a spark. Once the fire starts, they'll burn until nothing remains but ash.'
Marcus wasn't sure what to believe. To him, Ron was just a friend—a friend he might use or sacrifice if a forced situation.. Even now, he wasn't sure what Ron truly was.
Marcus's eyes revealed a coldness, yet also a hint of anticipation toward the black hand — eager to witness its chaos.His gaze was drawn to it, as if entranced, and faint black threads flickered across his body.
Marcus smiled confidently and stepped closer to inspect it — but suddenly, his expression changed.A surge of fear erupted within him.
Black threads flickered faintly along his own arms as he whispered to himself, "So this is what chaos looks like…"
Then his expression shifted—cold, calculating—as he turned toward the forest. Whatever came next, he knew it was already too late to stop it.
...
"Damn it!"
"Cast the barrier spell, now!"
Evelyn trembled as she watched the battlefield unfold before her eyes. It was chaos—pure, mindless chaos.
Dozens of mountain apes roared and charged at the students. Though weaker individually, their sheer numbers overwhelmed even the most gifted fighters.
They were students of Blue Light Academy, once hailed as prodigies of society, admired by all. Now, they were cornered, fighting just to avoid losing a trivial contest.
They might be geniuses, but whenever they're about to kill one, three more take its place — and when three aren't enough, it becomes five.
These mountain apes possess bizarre regenerative abilities and absurd endurance. When their arms break, they heal. When their legs snap, they keep running as if nothing happened.
"Grotesque" isn't enough to describe the scene before her. One of the apes, half its face blown off, its brain leaking white fluid and blood, still charged forward without a trace of pain.
These creatures were maddened — like demons from ghost stories — nothing like the ones she had encountered before.
They weren't beasts anymore. They were madness made flesh.
One ape's face was half-missing, white brain matter dripping down its cheek, yet it still charged forward as if pain meant nothing.
"GRUUUUUUU!!"
A thunderous roar split the air.
Perched on the shoulder of a giant ape, Julien appeared—his calm demeanor replaced by a cold, commanding presence. His eyes were sharp, distant, untouchable.
He raised a hand toward the struggling students and spoke just one word:
"Attack."
Hundreds of apes surged forward.
The ground trembled. Screams filled the air. Blood and soil mixed into something that no longer felt human.
A man thrust a short sword into a ape's eye, yanked it out, and threw it aside. At the same time, he drove his other blade into the socket, plunging it deep into the mountain ape's brain.
"Dammit! You lot, flank right! Everyone else—hold your ground!" he shouted, his voice hoarse but commanding.
Around seventeen or eighteen students fought beside him, all barely hanging on. Out of the fifty-one who began the exam, only thirty-one remained—and even they were close to collapsing.
But in that chaos, Jax stood firm. Nobody knew why he fought so desperately, or what his true motive was. They only knew that without him, they'd already be dead.
"Fall back! I'll take the front!" Jax roared, his crimson eyes gleaming.
The others obeyed instinctively.
He stepped forward, drenched in blood, small but unyielding before the towering apes.
Slash!
One clean strike—and a neck split open. Blood sprayed across his face.
Thud. Thud.
Jax spun, leaping up to strike two more apes simultaneously—daggers piercing both their eyes and into their skulls.
But before he could land the final blow, a force slammed into his back, hurling him several meters away.
"Urgh… gah…!"
He spat blood, forcing himself upright. Seeing his allies retreat safely, he exhaled sharply and began to chant.
A faint gray mist of mana rose around him, spreading across the battlefield.
Then, raising two crimson blades that shimmered like liquid fire, Jax exhaled one last breath—
and vanished.
Slice.