Dask reached Kez first.
"You okay?" he asked, crouching beside him while the medics finished their scans.
"I'll live," Kez muttered. His arm still throbbed, and the mana stitching barely dulled the pain. "Just a scratch."
Marie stood over them with a slight grimace. "You let that thing bite you on purpose?"
Kez didn't answer.
Marie didn't wait for one. "That was reckless. You got lucky it didn't take your arm off."
"I had to improvise after seeing its speed," Kez said, voice low. "I made a judgment call."
Dask crossed his arms. "Yeah? Well, now what? That arm's useless. You're not swinging anything with it in the next round."
Marie gave him a pointed look. "We can't carry dead weight. Phase Two won't be easier. If anything, it's worse."
Kez didn't flinch. "I know. I won't get in your way. I'll keep my distance, call out positions, give you whatever advantage I can. That's should count as teamwork."
She shook her head and stood. "I hope you are right."
Kez remained kneeling for a moment longer, eyes low. The pain pulsed through his arm, but louder than that was the silence that followed their words. Marie and Dask turned away, heading toward the looming gate. Their movements were firm, but not harsh.
They were right.
But they weren't cruel. There was no venom in their retreat.
Marie paused near the edge of the clearing, glancing back once with something uncertain in her expression—not quite worry, not quite doubt. Dask followed close behind, his frown softer now, more thoughtful than angry. They had expected frustration. Maybe even a bit of satisfaction at seeing Kez cut down to size. But watching him actually get hurt? That shifted something.
They didn't want him helpless. Just grounded. They hoped that he would take this more seriously and be someone they could rely on. Not drag behind.
But this had been Kez's intent. More or less.
He hadn't known exactly how Phase Two would unfold, but he figured it would be worse than the first. Harder. More demanding. Maybe something they had to face together. And if that was true, then instead of looking like a dead weight for no reason, he could just get a reason.
The instructor's rant about instinct and will had been the perfect setup. All Kez had to do was bleed for the message and put up a little act. So now, he shouldn't have much trouble passing the whole test without even actively participating in the next round.
'This turned out better than I thought.'
He rose to his feet, testing his balance. The pain still burned, but not enough to stop him. His job now was to adapt. To lead, if not fight. To keep eyes on the enemy, call out threats, and not look completely dead weight.
The others didn't need to know how calculated it had all been. They just needed to believe he cared enough to fight for the group.
The three of them reached the next gate.
It creaked open with a long, grinding groan, shadows spilling out across the dirt like smoke.
Something massive stirred behind it.
The gate groaned open, the sound deeper this time, as if strained under more than just weight. Dust curled outward from the darkened threshold, but only one shape emerged.
It was tall. Easily seven feet. Its skin was the color of dried blood, stretched taut over dense muscle. Bone-like protrusions jutted from its shoulders and elbows, and its mouth stretched too wide, packed with jagged, uneven teeth. Its eyes burned a dim red, not with intelligence, but with aggression. It did not pause. It did not posture.
A demon.
It charged.
Marie and Dask moved instinctively, splitting wide as the creature barreled forward with animalistic speed. The ground shook beneath each step it took, claws tearing grooves into the dirt.
Kez stepped back, heart hammering. He knew immediately—this thing wasn't smart. There was no reading its patterns. No coordination. Just force. Pure, relentless force.
"Dask, hammer the legs! Marie, aim high! Don't let it pick one of you off!" Kez shouted, already moving to the flank.
Surprisingly, they followed his commands. Dask met it head-on. His cleaver slammed into the creature's thigh, stopping it only for a breath. The demon roared and swiped, catching Dask across the chest and flinging him sideways. He rolled with the impact, coughed, but got back on his feet.
Marie didn't waste the opening. She vaulted up and struck the creature's neck with her charged staff. Sparks flew, muscle burned, but the creature didn't slow. It swung upward. Marie twisted in the air, barely avoiding the claws.
Kez scanned its movements. Wild. Predictable only in its fury. But the limbs were long. It covered ground fast. Too fast.
"It's not tracking! It just reacts! Feint and strike!"
Marie adjusted. She jabbed low, baiting a downward swipe, then leapt sideways and cracked its shoulder. Dask came in again from behind, cleaver biting deep into its calf. The creature shrieked and spun, hitting nothing.
Its strikes were devastating. But they missed more than they landed.
Blood—black and thick—began to streak its legs and side. Wounds layered on top of wounds, none fatal but all wearing it down.
Kez could see it starting to slow. The rage still burned, but its movements dragged.
"Now!" he barked. "Take it down together!"
Marie struck first. Her staff slammed into its knee, forcing it to stagger. Dask followed, leaping with a shout, cleaver overhead. The blade buried deep in the creature's neck.
It dropped.
The dust settled slowly. Marie stood panting. Dask leaned on his weapon, chest heaving. Kez stayed where he was, watching the corpse for another few seconds before stepping forward.
From the platform, Rhane gave no applause. No words of praise.
Just a nod.
"Clear."
The field went still again. Phase Two was over.
***
Kez didn't step closer right away. He let the others breathe. Marie and Dask deserved that moment. The fight ended quicker than he anticipated. They had done the real work. All he had done was observe and point.
The demon's corpse lay still in the dirt, its body leaking thick trails of black blood. It was heavier than the wolves, and somehow more final. Even dead, it looked violent.
Marie sat down slowly, staff across her knees. She wiped blood from her cheek, unsure whether it was hers or the demon's. Dask remained standing but kept both hands on his cleaver, letting his breathing slow.
Kez finally approached, his arm still stiff and wrapped. "Nice work," he said quietly.
Marie didn't look at him. "You better be right about this being enough."
"It will be," Kez replied. "Rhane saw everything. He knows what we each did."
Dask gave a dry chuckle. "You mean he saw you standing back and yelling like a coach."
"Exactly. And you two delivered."
Marie looked up at him then. There was something strange in her eyes. Not quite trust. Not yet. But not hostility either. "You still owe us."
"I know."
She stood, staff clicking as she folded it back into its compact form. Dask sheathed his cleaver with a grunt and turned toward the instructor's platform.
Rhane hadn't moved. His eyes remained on them, as sharp and unreadable as before. He was watching not just their injuries or stance, but their posture, their silence. Their teamwork.
Other cadets were gathered near the edges of the field now, watching rest of the groups clear their phases. They were murmuring, some wide-eyed, others whispering behind cupped hands. Group Nineteen had cleared both phases.
And Kez was still standing.
He suppressed a grin. Barely.
This was good. Better than expected. The second round didn't last long. Marie and Dask received almost no injuries and as a result, Kez's lack of physical contribution didn't turn out to be a big deal. Everyone had seen what they needed to see. The blood, the commands, the presence.
Kez didn't need to be a hero. He just had to make sure he was never seen as a liability.
He looked at the demon's body again. Its jaw hung loose now, teeth still bared in death. There would be more like that. Worse.
It was a fascinating looking creature. Not just because it was deadly, but because it shouldn't exist. Not in the world he remembered. Everything about it seemed like a practical effect gone too far—as if someone had taken a monster from a horror film and dragged it into reality. The skin was textured, but not rubbery. The bones that jutted from its arms were real, pale and pitted and slightly wet. The blood it leaked smelled metallic, but sharp in a way that was almost acidic.
There was no illusion to it. This thing had never belonged to Earth. It didn't move like anything from the animal kingdom. It didn't think, didn't reason. It just hated. It was terrifying, yes—but also pure. Singular. There was no moral grey here. If it was alive, it would kill you. That was all.
And Kez found something about that strangely beautiful.
'A true hater. Does it solely for the love of the game. I can respect that.'
***
It was afternoon when the evaluations began. No one was gathered in rows. There were no announcements or grand moments. Instead, names simply began to disappear from the terminal displays near the field. One by one, cadets were pulled aside. Some returned looking hollow. Others didn't return at all.
Rhane stood silent through it all, arms behind his back, posture rigid. A few other instructors flanked him, speaking softly into comm devices or reviewing data on transparent panels.
It was not a ceremony. It was a cut.
Group Nineteen remained together, watching the slow unraveling of the groups around them. Marie didn't speak. Dask shifted his weight often, glancing at the monitors. Kez leaned against a wall, one hand still clutching the edge of his bandages.
A name popped up on the nearest terminal. Then vanished.
Marie whispered, "That was one of the fast ones from Group Four."
"Didn't make it," Dask said, not sounding surprised.
Eventually, Rhane stepped forward. His voice carried without shouting.
"You were told the tests were dangerous. That was not a bluff. This is not a school for the well-meaning. You will be broken if you are not ready. Or you will get others killed."
He paused.
"Eleven cadets are being dismissed."
Gasps spread through the crowd. Kez didn't react, but Marie did. Her jaw tightened. Dask exhaled slow.
Rhane continued. "Their dismissal is final. No appeals. If you are not among them, congratulations. You survived. Barely."
There was a slight shift as tension bled out of the crowd. Not relief. Just air returning to lungs.
Rhane's eyes scanned them all, then locked briefly on Kez. Not long. Just enough to show that he remembered.
"Reports and scores will be posted within the hour. Recovery staff will see to your remaining wounds. Until then, you are dismissed."
He turned and walked away without another word.
Marie, Dask, and Kez walked slowly toward the barracks. No one said anything for a while.
Eventually Dask broke the silence. "Eleven. Damn."
"They weren't ready," Marie said. Not cruel. Just honest.
Kez nodded once. "I don't think we were either."
"But here we are." Dask sighed.
"By the way, Kez...you seem like a pretty normal guy. So, what's the deal with you going around causing trouble and randomly picking fights?"
Kez smiled. "Would you believe me if I said it was all bad luck?"
Dask snorted. "Absolutely not."
Marie glanced sideways. "You weren't exactly subtle back at the party. Or at the registration tent. Or literally anywhere."
"Yeah, just a mess of bad decisions and worse luck," Kez said, shrugging with his good shoulder. "Sometimes you open a door, and before you even realize it, you're already too far in to back out. So you just keep walking and pretend it was a choice all along.
Dask let out a low whistle. "Sounds like a motto for a guy who's been punched one too many times."
"Or not enough," Marie muttered.
Kez chuckled. "You two really know how to make a guy feel welcome."
"Hey, you're still standing. That counts for something," Dask said. "You say you're unlucky, but here you are. For someone who ranked almost at the bottom in combat rankings, you didn't fold in your first combat test."
"Huh. I guess I never thought about it like that." Kez pondered.
They reached a fork in the dirt path leading back toward the barracks. One trail curved off toward the medical wing, where a dull glow lit the top of a squat building.
Marie slowed as they reached the split in the path. "You should probably get that looked at."
Kez glanced down at his arm. The bandage had soaked through in places, and even small movements sent sparks of pain crawling up his shoulder. "Yeah. Might as well let someone smarter than me poke at it. Pain's gotten worse."
"Don't harass the medics," Dask said. "Or the other poor bastards in there."
Kez walked backward a few paces, wearing a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Harass them? I would never. Rather, I think they would be very delighted to have me there."
Dask shook his head. "I'm not even joking. You're obnoxious. Somehow exhausting even when injured."
Marie looked at Kez, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she gave a faint smile. "You're still a pain. But not useless. Not completely."
Kez stopped mid-step. He blinked once, then gave a small snort. "Wow. Touching. That really gave me a confidence boost."
He turned toward the infirmary path. "Well see ya around, folks. It was a pleasure working with yall."
"Pleasure might not be the word I'd use but likewise," Dask called after him.
Marie nodded, then she and Dask continued toward their dorms.
Kez walked alone. The quiet should have been calming, but it wasn't. Every step sent a tremor through his arm, the pain sharp and wrong. The mana stitching that had dulled the injury earlier now pulsed like a brand under his skin. It wasn't just soreness anymore. Something inside the muscle was twisting, flexing against itself, like it was trying to tear free. The pressure throbbed in waves, scraping bone and tugging at nerves.
It felt less like healing and more like his arm was rebelling.
He grit his teeth and pushed forward. The lights along the path flickered, casting uneven shadows that stretched across the dirt. The night was still, the air thin and cold.
He was still here.
But something inside him wasn't staying still at all.