The incline steepened as they climbed, the dirt turning jagged with embedded stones and old fragments of rebar that jutted from the hillside like broken teeth. The path no longer looked like something made for travel. It looked like something that had been torn into the landscape by boots, weather, and time. Wind scraped across the rocks, carrying with it the scent of dust, metal, and something else beneath it all. Something animal.
Zone 4 emerged from behind a curve in the slope: a flat-bellied structure crouched low against the terrain, its walls a mix of sandblasted concrete and rusted steel. Old pylons jutted from the earth around it, remnants of fencing and cables now half-swallowed by the ground. A crooked sign swung above the entrance:
ZONE 4 – Eastern Training Grounds
Live Beasts. No Resets.
Around the entrance, the sound of movement became unmistakable. Not just boots or distant shouting, but the heavy strikes of bodies meeting earth. Growls. Metallic clinks. Barked orders. The entire basin beyond the structure was alive with motion.
"Holy! This looks like a warzone," Dask commented.
Cadets swarmed through training lanes. Some were locked in combat with mechanical constructs. Others circled live wolves in sparring rings. One group was mid-drill, sprinting from cover to cover as instructors shouted instructions through handheld megaphones. Nothing about the space was clean or polished. It looked used. Real.
Kez was deep in thought. He was starting to remember bits and pieces about this test.
"If I'm right, this is the first controlled test. Although they mentioned it's just for testing your weapon, it's actually a test."
"Controlled tests usually occur under instructor supervision. Failing them often results in expulsion. Fuck, I don't wanna get kicked out on the first day."
Marie didn't slow. She stepped forward and pulled the gate lever.
The heavy doors groaned open, revealing a stretch of compacted dirt and scarred stone. As Kez followed them inside, he saw crates stacked in rows along the right wall and a central platform rising above the grounds. On that platform stood a tall man in a dark coat, unmoving.
He descended as if called.
Instructor Rhane.
His steps were steady, calculated. His uniform bore no rank beyond a thin silver stripe at the collar. He wore gloves, reinforced at the knuckles. His hair was trimmed to a near buzz. His expression was neutral, unreadable.
Just like Cera Velin, Rhane was also a senior instructor.
Cadets nearby quieted. Even instructors turned slightly as he approached. Some whispered his name, others simply watched. He did not return any gaze. His attention was already fixed on the new arrivals.
Rhane reached the center of the clearing and looked directly at them.
"Group Nineteen," he said. His voice was calm but carried effortlessly over the chaos of the field. "Step forward."
Marie, Dask, and Kez obeyed. There was no hesitation. The tone in his voice made it clear there would be no room for delay.
Rhane studied each of them in silence. His eyes were sharp but not expressive. It felt less like he was assessing them and more like he had already made a judgment and was simply waiting to see if they would live up to it.
"This ground," he said, turning slightly and gesturing toward the expanse around them, "is not for proving talent. It is for revealing character. You were sent here because you are unknowns. Records say one thing. I prefer truth."
He paced once in front of them.
"You will face a live combatant. It will not hold back. There will be no safety net. Injury is a likely outcome. But there are medics on standby. Death is... unlikely."
Kez raised an eyebrow.
"Unlikely?"
Rhane didn't blink.
"If you die with professionals ten seconds away, then you were never worth the slot you took."
Kez opened his mouth, then closed it.
Rhane continued, now speaking to all of them. "This is not your final trial. It is not even the real one. This is the threshold. A filter. You were tested to be admitted, yes, but that was only to see if you could walk through the door. What happens after determines if you belong here. Many get in. Few stay. Only the best will last. That is what matters."
As he spoke, Kez's eyes moved past him to the field beyond. It was chaos. Live wolves lunged at cadets in isolated rings. Instructors circled nearby, jotting notes, never interfering. Mechanical targets slammed into walls. Barked commands clashed with cries of pain.
One cadet tripped and fell. Her sword flew from her hand. She backed away, eyes wide, and turned to run. A buzzer sounded. Two instructors moved instantly. One hooked the wolf away. The other pointed toward the exit ramp. She was done.
Kez's jaw tensed.
"Controlled tests usually occur under instructor supervision."
He glanced sideways at Dask, then Marie. Both had their hands resting on their weapons. Focused. Ready.
Rhane was still speaking.
"I have seen many cadets on their first day. Some with potential. Some with promise. Most forgettable. A few unfortunate. None of that matters once you step into that ring. You may have trained. You may have studied. But the moment something with teeth and hunger stares you down, only two things remain."
He raised two fingers.
"Instinct. And will."
He turned and walked toward a nearby terminal.
"Prepare yourselves."
The words echoed for a moment before the ambient noise of the basin crept back in. The distant clash of metal, the low growl of wolves, the sharp bark of instructors. But within their small ring, silence took hold.
Kez swallowed and stepped forward. The grip of his sword was firm and cool in his palm. The wolves weren't the only ones being tested.
The trio began to prepare without a word.
Marie adjusted her grip on her weapon: a collapsible shock-staff lined with tungsten along its core, the ends humming faintly with stored kinetic energy. She twirled it once, testing the balance, then tapped each end to the ground. The staff let out a soft electric crackle as it charged. This was a weapon designed for rapid strikes and disabling force, not brute damage. Perfect for someone who favored speed and control over sheer power.
Dask rolled his shoulders and tapped the pommel of his weapon, a broad cleaver-like blade with a weighted edge. The spine of the weapon was lined with embedded impact coils, meant to release bursts of kinetic force upon contact. It was slow. Heavy. But devastating when it landed. He gave it a few test swings, the air whistling around the steel as it moved. There was a grim sort of comfort in the way it pulled forward in his grip, almost like it wanted to fall into something.
Kez simply held his sword, turning it once in the light. There was nothing special about it. No core. No hum. No reactive plating. But there was honesty in that simplicity. No gimmicks meant no distractions. The blade was sharp. The reach decent. The balance slightly forward-heavy, which meant it would teach him patience and timing whether he wanted it to or not. Already, he could feel how it forced him to think about spacing. He wouldn't be able to overwhelm anything with this. But he could be deliberate. He could punish openings. And most importantly, it would show him his mistakes every time he swung it wrong. In a way, that was its advantage. This sword was unforgiving. And because of that, it would make him better.
"I can't blame others for choosing weapons that can turn mana into different kinetic energies. They are very practical in these types of combat tests."
"However, they will be very detrimental to me in the long run. As for these tests, I need to use my head to pass them... somehow."
"The first one shouldn't be too difficult. I'm mostly worried about the second one. I should try my best to fulfill the test criteria in the first one to the best of my ability so that I have more leeway in the second one."
"Also, my knowledge in actual swordsmanship is at absolute zero. I think my best odds would be sticking to stabbing rather than slashing."
The ground shuddered as the first gate opened.
A wolf stalked into the ring. Its fur was coarse and dark, with armor bolted across its chest and legs. One of its ears was torn, and a long scar split the fur along its shoulder. The eyes burned with an unnatural alertness.
"Marie Alvon."
She stepped forward without hesitation. The moment she crossed the ring boundary, the wolf lowered its stance.
Rhane gave a signal.
The wolf attacked.
Marie did not meet the charge head-on. She pivoted, letting the beast rush past, and brought her staff down in a clean arc against its back. Sparks jumped where the tungsten core struck armored fur. The wolf snarled and skidded, then turned with unnatural speed. It pounced again. Marie jammed the butt of her staff into the ground and vaulted sideways, flipping cleanly over the incoming claws. She twisted midair and brought the other end of the staff down on the creature's spine.
The wolf stumbled but didn't fall. It lashed out, claws nicking her shoulder. The impact sliced through her jacket and left a shallow but bleeding gash. Marie didn't retreat. She slipped around its flank, guiding the wolf's movements with short, precise taps to its legs and hips, redirecting its force like a matador. Every time it adjusted, she struck a joint or weak point, pushing it just enough off balance to keep it chasing.
Then, as it lowered its head and prepared another charge, she stepped in.
She spun her staff full circle, building momentum, then drove it up into the soft space beneath its jaw. The crack was audible. The wolf froze, then crumpled. Marie stood over it, breathing shallow and even. Blood dripped from her upper arm, staining her sleeve, but she showed no sign of pain.
The wolf did not rise.
Rhane raised his hand.
"Clear."
The second gate opened without wasting any more time. Another wolf emerged, leaner but faster, its legs unarmored and claws longer. Its eyes tracked constantly, calculating.
"Dask Ferrin."
Dask rolled his shoulders and stepped into the ring, his blade gripped tight in both hands. He took a breath and let it out slow.
The wolf launched itself.
Dask met the lunge with a clash of steel against muscle. His cleaver caught the wolf's shoulder at an angle, tearing a furrow across the armor. The beast recoiled, howling, then launched back with even greater speed. Dask stood his ground.
He waited for the last second, then shifted sideways, bringing the cleaver down in a sweeping arc across its ribs. It struck with a dull thud and a shockwave of kinetic energy released from the embedded coils, sending the wolf tumbling. Dust plumed. Dask followed, relentless.
The wolf twisted and lunged again. Dask raised his weapon in both hands and took the full hit to his side, then brought the cleaver down like an axe onto the wolf's back. The impact drove the beast into the dirt. It writhed, snarling, claws digging at the earth.
Dask gritted his teeth and pulled back for one more strike. The wolf rolled under the swing and bit into his leg, tearing through fabric. Blood streaked down his calf from the bite, and his stance wavered for half a second. He shouted, then slammed his knee into its jaw, staggering it long enough to drive the cleaver straight through a gap in its plating.
The wolf dropped.
He stumbled slightly as he rose, blood wetting his pant leg, but he did not limp.
Rhane gave no reaction.
"Clear."
Then came the final gate.
The third wolf stepped forward. It had less armor than the others, but not none. Bands of metal hugged its neck and chest tightly, molded to the shape of its frame. Its legs were exposed. Its fur was sleek, unscarred, and clean. Its eyes were steady, thoughtful. It did not growl. It did not pace. It simply watched.
"Kez Jolkev."
He stepped into the ring.
The sword at his side felt heavier than before. Not in weight, but in meaning. Every inch of the blade made a promise. It would not save him. It would only show him the truth. He was not a swordsman. Not yet. And this was not practice.
"The wolves are faster than I imagined. If I try to stab and miss, I lose my footing and I get torn apart."
He exhaled slowly. His chest rose once. Then stilled.
"This might be a gamble. But I really don't have enough confidence to fight it any other way."
He rolled his shoulders back and settled into a stance. The looseness he had carried before was gone.
"Rhane said instinct and will. That should be enough to explain it later. Man, I really don't want to get expelled on the first day."
The wolf did not give a warning. Its body dropped low. Eyes locked on the center of his chest. It surged forward like a boulder shot from a sling. The ground shook beneath its speed.
Kez moved.
At the last moment, he rolled sideways, letting the full force of the charge shoot past him. Dust exploded. The wolf twisted, skidding across the earth in a blur of fur and metal. It turned fast, but Kez was already running.
He ran toward it.
The wolf froze for a breath, surprised. Cadets watching were not supposed to charge the threat. Kez kept low, eyes fixed, heart pounding.
As he closed the distance, he shifted his blade to his left hand and let his right arm hang wide. It was not obvious, but it was enough. He loosened his stance just slightly. Let his arm swing forward as if his balance had slipped.
The wolf saw it.
It leapt.
The jaws came down on his arm with a crunch that sent pain flooding up his side. His whole body flinched. Fortunately, thanks to the thread launcher somewhat cushioning the blow, the fangs didn't have enough force to puncture bone, but the bite still tore through flesh. Blood spilled, but not as much as there should have been. It still hurt like hell, but he had already raised the blade.
He drove it straight up under the wolf's chin. The tip caught the exposed spot just behind the jaw and rammed in deep. There was resistance. Then soft give. Then bone. The blade kept going. His legs pushed every inch of force into it.
The wolf twitched. Its body began to collapse even before the blade was pulled out.
Kez wrenched the sword free and fell backward with it. The wolf fell with him, limp and heavy. It slammed into the earth beside him.
He rolled out from under the weight and forced himself up onto one knee.
His right arm hung open and torn. Blood ran freely, soaking into the dirt.
But the wolf did not move.
It was dead.
Rhane stepped forward from the edge of the ring, stopping just short of Kez.
He looked down at the wound, then at the boy himself. His voice was level but biting.
"You let it bite you."
Kez's jaw clenched. His breath was ragged, but his eyes stayed steady.
"It was the only way I could be sure. I'm not fast enough. Not trained enough. I had to make the shot count."
Rhane said nothing.
Kez straightened just slightly, teeth grit against the pain.
"You said instinct and will. I trusted both."
Rhane studied him another second, then gave a curt nod.
"Clear."
Two field medics moved in from the edge of the basin. Their robes were reinforced at the sleeves and glowed faintly at the seams, woven with conductive threads that helped direct their mana with clinical accuracy. One carried a portable mana array. The other wore a bracer pulsing with diagnostic glyphs.
They knelt beside Kez, already analyzing the damage.
"Punctures, deep tissue tear. Thread launcher took the brunt, but it's close to a fracture," one muttered.
The second medic tapped the array and directed a short-range healing field over the limb. A grid of pale green light formed over the injury, stabilizing the flow of blood and numbing the surrounding nerves.
"Hold still. This will accelerate tissue bonding, but you'll still need proper regeneration later," he said.
He pressed his palm over the worst of the wound. Mana surged from his hand, slow, focused, and surgical. Not wild spellwork, but precision healing. Controlled, like a laser through flesh. The bleeding slowed, then stopped. Skin knit loosely over muscle, not fully sealed but enough to hold.
Kez grit his teeth and stayed silent.
"This should hold for now," the first medic said. "Don't use it again unless you want permanent damage."
Kez gave a nod, jaw tight, and finally let the sword fall from his grip.
Rhane turned from the scene and raised his voice to the rest of the field.
"Group Nineteen has completed Phase One."
He lifted his arm.
"Phase Two. Begin."
The far gate began to creak open.
Something large was waiting behind it.
The ground rumbled beneath their feet.